Stars Apart

I know, its quite boring...but first drafts are always bad, amateurish....

Chapter 1 Banter

1

 The day began on a positive note. Who knew playing a practical joke on cousins could  be fun? Bijoy positively screamed “Tara, you will pay for this” as Banchi’s robotic arms pried  him  away from the mess he called bed. A very painful way to wake up.

Banchi was grandfather’s latest creation based on archaic prototypes from the Motherland infact. It was one of his pet projects... mixing technology old and new to come up with quirky robotons.

A lot of the colonists loved to wish away these remainders of a deplorable past. For them, the robotons and the like stood for everything that had brought them here, hundreds of light years away. It was a constant reminders of the benevolence and mercy of the races inhabiting this part of the Milky Way.

The youngsters at the academy, however, found them interesting and cool experiments.

Father had expressed interest in this fusion technology for both business and practical reasons. He had willing investors interested in what he called the ‘servients’, automated machines that did menial jobs of the homes.

 Father and Uncle were ambitious and pushy, totally unlike grandpa who instilled in us love for the surrounding world and thirst for academic and creative excellence.

 I and my friends had just graduated from the local Academy and still exercising our choices on our future professional and personal. It wasn’t the only one in Gaia, the planet we were granted asylum on 5000 years ago. But it was the one, most aspired to join and few did. The rest studied in finishing schools and relevant job mangers.

2

Many of the students would follow in their parent footsteps be it job or industry. A few of us had been short listed for the five year advanced program. If selected it would mean a journey not just from home but from our star system to another in the constellation of Cygnus.

 I love travelling, the chance to meet different Gaian like species and interacting with them is exciting. The one to one conversation adds much more to the knowledge of our similarities and difference than historical and cultural studies.

The influences that make us can be as varied as the planets and moons we are born in… to the environment we grow up. “Inter planetary species” is the subject that I hope to pursue further and code in my own thoughts and findings. Codes are what books were to first Gaians who were selected to settle on the planet. With Earth and its Moon Chandra having died out, the Mars colony destroyed by nuclear fission and moons Titan and Phoebe overcolonised…the Bhaa granted Solians a reprieve, a chance at redemption. Solians dwell in the Goid Belt in a single Star Sol planetary system between two of the left arms of the galaxy. It is said that there were are six such Solian based colonies in our constellation far away from each other with minimal contact, least we give in to the tendency to destroy ourselves. Why have our ancestors been destroying their planet homes and endangering their lives is an unfathomable riddle?

Chapter 2 New Beginnings

1

 It was a dream come true for the group. The excitement and nervousness in the air was palpable. Being chosen for the planetary Academy was in itself an honor reserved for the best local talent. To be a part of the team of colonists to spend the next 5 years in the principal one, challenging and learning from the best minds of the star systems was a rare privilege.

  Tara and Sofia collapsed into the refreshing pods at the monitoring room, clearly exhausted by the plethora of tests they had gone through. These were just the tip of the iceberg needed for clearance. Bijoy and Stefan weren’t doing too well either, despite the training the boys had to undergo as part of the defense protocols. The last three that completed the group were the freshest, a reflection on their military training.

 The defense protocols were a compulsory system implemented by all the planet and moon bases that were part of the Guardian Domains. It was based on these performances that the Training Centre chose its future fighters from the Academy.

 Despite his failing health, Grandfather insisted on being present for the entire session. No one could deny the respected scientist who had been a skilled fighter pilot in his time. It was a proud moment for him as two of his grandchildren had made the grade. Though he had initially been disappointed that neither Tara nor Bijoy were cut out to be soldier-scholars, he conceded that the accelerated program at the Academy held greater future value.

 Chapter 3Tara

 1

I fell in love with Tirma, the second moon of Shuk at first sight. The other reason why it would always be special was still an unknown, back then. While the spaceship made contact with the docking station for permission, we admired the purple hues on the horizon which we later found out was the permanent feature. Sofia was of the opinion that the unique position of Shuk’s two suns may have something to do with it. I smiled at her efforts to impress Bijoy at every turn.

‘Should I tell her, she didn’t need to try so hard?’

  My mind resumed it original thoughts. ‘Would it be possible for us to explore the landscape?’

Looked like Stefan was thinking the same, for he asked

“Will the Tutors give us permission to move around?”

Dhruv interjected “A better question would be, is the air breathable enough to wander unaided?”

Everyone laughed and Stefan joined in, he had a chilled out persona which helped him make friends easily.

 Despite appearances, Dhruv and he were best friends. This was their way of bonding, as I and Sofia often did over philosophy and music.

 The landing proceeded smoothly despite the tight schedule the hosts had to maintain. The academic year started in three months, giving all the students ample time to acclimaticize and acquaint with others. Father advised us to stick to Gaia like and Gaianoid ones initially especially the Hamsaians and the Domerners. They were our military and technology transfer partners.

 2

 The Academy itself was a beautiful sight, right in the midst of an ocean atop a volcanic hill. It was the principal one and recreated 15000 years ago if I remembered my history lessons correctly. Some of the best galactic leaders, soldiers, inventors, artists and tradesperson were its proud alumni. Its black grey exterior with the violet sky as the backdrop gave it a formidable appearance. Though the architecture gave it a “from the lost pages of time feel”, it was said to be a technical marvel with an modern interiors in an entire wing. The rejuvenation centre was packed with ample refresher pods and body contour shapers; a luxury still, back home.

 We climbed into one of the waiting automated rovers that would drop us at the first of three checkpoints leading to the invisible gates. Each halt would take two days …Each of us students, tutors back from breaks, the peace keepers, even travelling medical crew had to go through BESS. BESS, the biological echo sensory scan identified the different species and enabled the medical crew to sterilize our bodies and identify dangerous pathogen carriers. The peace keepers found it useful to weed out the rogue nation members and dangerous pets snuck in ever so often.

 The system left room for very few errors. Our 30 odd member group was bundled off to the waiting bunkers as the checks were still being conducted on some of the Hamsaians who had arrived earlier.

3 

 “Do the Hamsa Nobles travel separately?” I asked Dhruv

 He was the smartest and being in year 3 – a Triga, the oldest among us.

 “Some do, but most prefer to travel incognito with the ordinary folk.”

“They will be a couple of them in your sessions” added Stefan. “The Baals and Dohatos sound familiar?”

   “Not two of the oldest warrior clans, father has dealings with?”

 “You will find a few of them in each year.” said Stefan

  “The ones being scanned are graduating students back from military training.”

    “Aren’t the fourth years supposed to stay at the Academy preparing for the last term?” asked Robyn the writer.

“The soldiers in training among Hamsa and the Panjas are allowed to leave.”

“Shouldn’t rules be the same for everyone?” I quizzed.

“Being some of the older inhabitants has its advantages”

“They are allowed back only on completing their assignments irrespective of warrior status.” It was not Dhruv or Stefan who had replied but one of the quieter, stiff backed ones, definitely a soldier in training.

  “How would you know?” Bijoy asked for the rest of us.

   “My brother happens to partner two of them, both at the academy and the training centre.”

“At your base?” someone asked

“Which colony are you based in?” I addressed her.

“At the edge of the Zooma belt. Our planet Shina is on a binary star system Rah and Ket” She replied “Your group is from Gaia, isn’t it? Then we are at opposite ends.”

 4

The dark haired soldier responded. “Close to one of the Maara systems, aren’t you?”

‘Far too close, some believe” she replied timidly as if expecting censure for the proximity.

“We cannot choose our neighbors, not yet.” I tried to reassure her.

Sofia and Stefan deftly changed the topic by going back to the Hamsa and the fourth years or Naals.

  

 Chapter 4 The Academy

1

 “Most out of the way, Earthlings, stick to your line”. The voice came from the travel pod hurtling at great speed near us.

 “A race to the sessions with the Gaiains” shouted Stefan into the sound box, totally uncharacteristic of him.

 “Let’s go guys; I don’t want to be late on the first day.” Tara found herself saying the third time in as many years.

 “Don’t understand how the Hamsa can bear to train with cowards!” said the cool voice again.

 “Don’t do it. It is not worth being expelled.” Sofia pleaded

 “They are just baiting us” Tara added “As always.”

“I thought they were allies, why are they so mean to us?” said Zeba, the timid girl.


*Another 8000 too be copied from my  hand written journal

 Based on these 4 500 words flashes written for a blog contest

 Story outline

   FF1

It had been a nerve racking trip in more ways than one. She had just finished her maiden flight, barely getting used to travelling at the speed of light. To the casual observer it would look like a picture that moved slower than a Binga*. Camig‘s description of travelling through space warps had sounded exciting enough back then. It would have been, she observed bemused, far safer and remote, enclosed in the fighter jet ....being trapped in an orb that zoomed along at breathtaking speed was a boggling experience difficult wrapping her mind to...

“Oops, my body is back on the colony taking in artificial air....hope they are monitoring my vital signs”, wouldn’t want to go back to a useless shell as Benen had called it on their first meeting. So much had changed since in the last decade.

He guided her with the expertise that came with centuries of travel this way. He had carefully monitored her progress; the transition of her mind in the plasmic orb had been an excruciating process with side effects. At one point she had wanted to abandon the idea.

Her godfather (she loved to tease as Doc) had persisted with the experiment. She had sensed his obvious disappointment at another failure of the “earthlings” to evolve and adapt.

“Give up Doc; it’s not going to work. And the end result will just be more migraine attacks for me.”

“Nothing works the first time, my child. It was the persistence of your forefathers that finally convinced the ‘Hamsa’ to allow to train alongside them.” He had replied testily.

“And the Triad to give the colonists the mining rights” she had added.

“It would have been better if they hadn’t.” he muttered to himself.

She sensed a chill and tried to cheer him up with a promise of another trial the next week.

Camig had often proclaimed she had special powers; she could calm the most aggressive with just a smile or a few words. Her closest friend, descended from the best of the Hamsa warriors and yet the gentlest, a very rare combination among his kind. The closest to her own species and yet so different. They were biologically similar to them but mentally more “Bhaa”* like. She wished he had been there but at least Benen was.

She felt like a lost child, as she desperately missed holding his cybortic hand. Her thoughts so taken in by the reception on this remote, impenetrable haven, so close to the galaxy’s core.

“We are barbarians to his folks, in love with decaying bodies they discarded like old clothes half a million years ago.”

“The Light” just didn’t realise how many of her kind would jump at the chance if they only knew.

 Benen’s thoughts expressed amusement. He managed to infuriate her even now as her mentor and guide across the desolation and the fires they passed by. As they began to slow down, she looked the landscape, eerily beautiful were the only words suited.

“I wonder which of the hovering orbs the parents are.”
***

FF2

The short stay had been memorable with good and bad moments. The reception had been decidedly cold if not hostile. Benen has known the risk of bringing Tara along, an idea that hadn’t found much favour even with the younger ones. The colonists weren’t trustworthy, given the wanton destruction of their native planets* and their unique ecosystems.

The Triad highly influenced by the “Bhaa” had taken 4000 years to grant Gaia self governance in trading. The past 1000 years had given Benen fresh hope. Had he not belonged to one such race in eons past?

He donned the mantle of a tourist guide and directed her to unrestricted places. He was pleased by her lack of covert interest in the “immortal” life teeming around her, another test cleared.

Benen had plans for this strong, steadily growing group of students, whom he hoped to enlist into the “peace keeping force”, a step in the direction of full fledged orbacy*. Plans which may have to be put on fast track, given the disturbing reports of the patrols. If they were true, he feared for Tara and the others. The visit to the super dome would have to wait.

Tara curiousity reached a peak on the journey back, with Benen “closed door” conversations with the Elite Estel* a few of who accompanied them. His secrecy was not unusual but his encrypted thoughts puzzled her. As they approached the Kilimaro Mountains, a sense of foreboding ate into his soul. The installation wore a deserted look which was normal. Anyone who ventured this far would see some decrepit, long abandoned buildings. But this was silence of a different kind.

They moved past the first check point controlled by BESS* without stopping by as with the other two points of entry. The scan area showed the first signs of a fight and resistance. The Hamsa squad normally stationed here was missing, the place over run by his kind. They were guided to a different wing, the innermost sanctum. Its usage itself raised questions. While the cybortic limbed “Bhaa” scientists initiated the reversal process on Tara, Benen searched for answers.

 Marka his partner, answered tersely, occasionally glancing at the comatose Tara with an unreadable expression. There had been a series of well planned assaults on six such installations in the galaxy. The weapons using Gamma rays seemed like an advanced version of “Hamsa“ projectiles, causing instant death to many of the unprepared security here and elsewhere. Weapons of that kind were banned in their planetary systems. Camig was fighting for his life; his twin sister had succumbed to her injuries barely making it to the inner sanctum. The weapons had only temporarily incapacitated the cybortic orbs enabling them to move Tara and three others to safety.

The “Hamsa” elders were in consultation with their allies, having withdrawn all their able force to their home planets. In an interesting development the Renaissance soldiers had been absenting themselves from joint training.

“They have been revived, all vital statistics are clear.” informed one of the monitoring crew.

 Tara and the others were groggily taking in the strange surroundings, especially the presence of the Benen’s people and the absence of the Hamsa – Camig and Miga in particular.

 “What happened here?” asked Bijoy

“I remember something was amiss at the scan area...” a worried Tara, “...Where are the twins?”

Benen still in travel form rambled on about new security drills while Marka shrugged his shoulders in disdain and walked out.

***

FF3

The two years* had passed by in a flurry of events and actions. few moments of leisure bringing along grief and questions, painful answers and choices. Camig’s mind had drifted in and out of consciousness for the greater part of the first six months. It mechanically processed information, strategising, issuing, and following orders now.

Tara and his Renaissance friends had been kept away out of the loop for too long; it was time to face the truth. Benen and Marka had insisted on being present.

How did one turn away from friends at the academy and training partners, even watch them die by one’s own hands?

How did one convey the proof of their families’ duplicity to someone who was one’s forever?

How did that someone face the fact that their loved ones were traitors who had sold out on their friends?

These thoughts assailed him as Camig joined the Hamsa* and Domern* warriors present at the final meeting. He has chosen neutral grounds, the Academy* branch in the middle of the Shiavona Desert, 300 feet below ground level, accessible only by a hidden side road from the Targe.

Camig was glad he had instead on a “no weapons” check on both sides else a bloodbath would have ensued. And yet by the end of it, there had been a ray of light, a breakthrough. Some of the Hamsa, The Domern and the colonists had formed a truce, a “no strike” on each other’s ground stations in the event of the imminent war. But they refused to extend the courtesy to respective allies, the colonists with very few sympathizers but one powerful ally, being at a slight disadvantage there.

Tara and Bijoy were a different story. The difficult, heartbreaking confrontation was his to face. Their reactions were vastly different.

“You are lying!” Bijoy screamed. “Don’t believe them cousin; our fathers would never betray their friends for profit.”

“They had not just the knowledge of the attacks but have helped the Maara* by diverting vast amounts of Radakillum* ores to them despite a trade ban.” Camig’s uncle Lepes stated.

Tara quiet throughout, asked Benen

“The Maara were defeated, weren’t they? Grandfather said they were no longer a cohesive group or threat.”

“We believe that your grandfather’s death was not natural but by lethal substance untraceable by our bio scans. He must have stumbled upon his sons’ nefarious dealings.” Camig replied without emotion.

“What has the Maara to do with all this?” a worried Stefan.

“Death seeks what the Light possesses” Marka cryptically.

“Why was no action taken, why tell us now? Have you never considered us equal?” an unconvinced Bijoy

“The Triad and the Guardian Domains* need proof. Galactic matters take years even centuries to be sorted.” Lepes replied to Stefan ignoring Bijoy.

“If that was so, the Triad would have never let your families own the mining rights. The Bhaa wouldn’t be seeking the eligible among you for the Elite Estel. The Hamsa wouldn’t have trusted you with their weapons or spaceships. The Domern would not have allowed for exchange of technology.” Camig with barely concealed anger.

“But why war?” Tara asked him, looking at the entire room.

“Look for yourself, 80% of your group seated here is from the academy, barely any high ranking warriors.” answered Lepes

“The rest of the Gaia soldiers have abandoned joint patrols; some flying with Maara flagships, some underground.” informed Camig

“May as well tell her the rest…” Marka

“Your father issued a statement seceding from the Guardian Domains last week” Camig continued.

“Gaia is no longer part of the planetary group?” a shocked Bijoy.

***

FF4

The dust storms had abated, allowing for four months of monitored travel outside. Tara stood lost in clashing thoughts...life had come full circle. The nightmares were back with disturbing frequency, had they something to do with her arrival? The sprightly 150 year old found herself traveling to the "Minara". The dome reminded her of the Itrigs* she has seen of the motherland Earth....a place known through stories, now myths for some. Taking the drop pad to her family's section in the dungeons, the retained memories assailed her. Some of the memories were painful; repressed in her, erased in most of the 333 survivors – a few renaissance folk and other defeated refugees.

It had been 2000* years since anyone in the colony was taunted "earthling" and yet, 200 odd years had been enough to revert back to the status of old. Her family's greed has caused damage lasting millennia, forcing many to choose sides.

******

Bijoy had chosen the easiest way out. A quick painless death triggered by his father’s punishment, reserved for traitors. A rarity, the blast off into space with just an hour’s reserve of breathable gas was a horrifying sight. 

Tara's had been the most difficult to make, choosing to stay back. Sofia, Bijoy's fiancée followed her – the only family member he had truly cared for. The Espadon River was now controlled and monitored by the Elite Estel. The war broke out while the rest labored to restore the abandoned Domern bases deep in the Assrat Range.

It had seemed surreal in the beginning but soon, the sight at the complexes was stomach churning. As the body pile of soldiers and civilians alike grew bigger, she decided it was time... ask him the last favor. As she left, some colonists pointed their weapons at her, while others looked away guiltily or with hope....she was a traitor to some, the shamed "ethical” but to the rest, the only one of the two Camig and the Hamsa may yield to.

Camig and Stefan may have made the best choice yet, joining the Elite Estel instead of opposing sides on the battlefield. Camig had given her the final gift, protection for as many of the innocent as possible. He still commanded the loyalty of his battalion.

Tara could still hear his soft, assertive voice; his words echoing through her head.

“Gather all those who want no part of the battle, at the mines. Remember, not a single one who has trained with us.”

“We will use the Heirot‘s pass to transport them to the installations for the next seven days.”

“But are the installations safe?”

“Safe enough till the bases are ready.” “Will you be joining them?”

“We have no choice.”

“You still have another choice.” “Come with me.”

“My blood is tainted; enough damage has already been done. They will deem you a traitor too.”

“I am considered one anyway, Miga’s betrayer.”

“Your sister was a fiercely loyal friend, would have never wanted you to stand against the ones you care about.”

“Benen offered us the Gift of Light”

“You are born to it, you should accept it.”

“Meaningless without you.”

“I have already declined the offer.”

“Will you not change your mind?”

“The sins of the fathers visit upon their children. I have to make amends.”

“So be it, our choices.”

******

She had retained the memory as a reminder of lost love, a galactic war.

As she pressed her index finger on her left palm, his final message appeared on the invisible screen. A poignant, ‘stars apart/forever in each other's thoughts’... would her great grand niece’s fate be different?

Restless

Story Outline

"Some things never change around here." Simi poked around trying to fish out the harried souls.

The souls in question seeking solace from the stern elders, often alone or in groups of two and three by the lake.

'Sharing secrets inside the mansion walls was both embarrassing and dangerous' opined the teenagers.

This bunch was not smarter than the ones in the preceding years but used a different system of disguises. Hard to know if the portly, middle aged man she detected was indeed Shammi Uncle.

'Offending a senior member of the household meant hanging off a cliff like... Ria...
what the hell was that?'

***

Shammi replied “The Green Dew.”

Simi looked at him, a fear and question in her eyes as the others looked to the edge.

Ria or her lack thereof forgotten.

“Gather your clan children here,  protect them all.”  Time to seek his estranged warrior brothers, their very existence at stake.

***

He paced across the floor, impatiently awaiting the messenger’s return.

‘The fool of an imp must have left the mansion four hours ago, can’t these useless fools do one thing right?’

He dismissed his personal aide with a flick of the hand, causing the poor creature to crash onto the cold stone floor outside the room.

The crystal revealed nothing as yet.

‘The ancients had set strong wards…but not for long.’

The curse was almost ready. The final words of the mantra left, to be uttered on the blue moon night, two days hence.

Hidden by him in the old walls 150 years ago, it slumbered waiting the unleashing of its dark potency.

“Only the mad old bat knows where…”

He chuckled loudly, scaring the Bagoons in the cages.

She had played her part well, all these years, and would soon be rewarded for her loyalty.

They would be ‘The Lord of the lands and his consort.’ with all the high born crushed under his heels.

The Council had exiled him over his dark aides as they called them. In reality, he knew that they were scared and envious of his newly acquired powers. The spineless cowards had been unwilling to break the ancient oath and grab at everlasting glory, proclaiming truth and light as the greatest gifts.

‘He would show them the meaning of greatness, true power.’

 A scrap at the open roof grabbed his attention, the vulture glided down, encircling the clustered room.

Casting a quick, non verbal spell; transformed the scavenger into the hideous shape of his slave.

Trembling hands handed him the silk scroll wrapped up in protective Kusha grass.

‘Remove the grass blanket!’ he thundered, pulling away his hand as though it had been singed.

If things went well, the hated Charis’, Shaks’ and Warriers’, in particular, would be graced by an ancient visitor on the next moonless night. The Green Dew would bring with it, this time, the Elder Borns’ decimation. 

***
My muse is keen on a romantic twist, she refuses to cooperate otherwise so this stays as first chapter for now. ;(


Tentative Chapter 1 -  Going Back

 1

The day faded into the dark cloudy sky. So much like her dreams and hopes that were pushed into the farthest recesses of her mind. Often, she sat on the parapet in that corridor and gazed at the crowd around her. Some faces looked back at her with the familiarity of shared time, some recognising her as one they often passed by on their way to and back from. There were few that barely acknowledged her person except to taunt and tease. But even they were forced to retreat and seek other avenues of amusement...for today, she was oblivious. Her thoughts were thousands of miles away where her heart lay still, broken and shattered on that carpeted floor of a place that had once been a second home. Maybe Fazia swept away those invisible pieces in a single, mindless motion under the carpet. Pity broken hearts did not bleed, even magical ones...else someone would have noticed the faint red stains; red, not blue like some still liked to believe.

 The envelope in her hand, a beautiful one at that, artistic like the sender and yet it held the destructive powers of an atomic bomb. Courage that she had been gathering for the last two hours, to open and read the contents of the card eluded her. Words that could well turn out to be the final nail on the coffin of her dreams. She had been prepared for this moment from the evening she had fled that room. These three years had been difficult and yet strangely, fulfilling for her.

 2

 The rejection still ringing in her ears. She took perverse pleasure in that mocking tone, for that was the only way she could hear his voice.

The real memories too painful to look back into. Zeenat’s betrayal had rankled as she saw her in his embrace. But time had helped her see the truth…she was the one at fault, clutching at straws and being in love with someone whose heart had already been claimed. If only she had known, the countless times she had bored Zeenie with her tale of unrequited longing, she had been confiding her deepest secrets to the one he loved and who returned his affection. Humiliation and guilt had prevented her from saying her goodbyes; she had taken the cowardly way out of a letter. In a snap of a few minutes she had lost two of her beloved friends and many of her family. Another memory flickered of a day when her heart still beat, wildly at that.

“The Shakhs often marry close cousins, don’t they?’ she had asked casually, once.

He had just smiled as Zarine answered, “I am living proof.”

 She had been secretly thrilled at the thought that they were third generation cousins.

Little did her foolish day dreams permit her to see beyond the illusions, every glance, every smile which fell her way had been for the other one. The One, who had been their companion from childhood. 

Often nowadays she laughed aloud at her mistakes, which in turn evoked more glances from the students who passed by. One too many made; the worst had been confessing her feelings to him. The laughter which dissolved into hot tears as she glanced at the shiny paper in her hand.

 3

“Aren't you going to open it? It is getting crushed under the weight of your hands.”

She turned around, to see a smiling Ced seated next to her, his long legs dangling awkwardly.

One of her best friends, he wasn’t the kind to laugh at her pain. The special bond they shared enabled him to be attuned to her emotional and mental state of mind. Puzzled at his behaviour, she remained silent. But the tears had stopped, his very presence giving her strength.

Ced waited, patience one of his many virtues. When it looked unlikely that she would utter a word or open the envelope whose true contents he was aware of, he pulled it away gently from her tight grasp.

 She let go, as she always did with people she trusted and cared for.

 He undid the strings, admiring the artistry of his cousins to reveal a golden coloured note attached to the envelope.

 He spelled the letter to speak loud enough for only the two of them to hear…

Exultations to one and all, our esteemed family, friends and allies.

The event had arrived that which every proud, honoured father looks to, the marriage of our beloved granddaughter…

“Stop, please, no more…” she cried as she jumped down from the wall preparing to flee.

“Running away never solved anything, Ria” unspelling it.

“Would you be so cruel to make me listen?” a pleading in her voice.

He smiled kindly “Trust me on this.”

Ria stood with her back to him, waiting for the familiar, gruff tone.

4


The letter spoke... barely hearing the words till the last name. She turned back in shock, snatching the letter from his hand. No matter how many times she read or heard it, the name was a constant. The card fell to the floor from shaky hands...her thoughts forming and unforming at a dizzying pace. It could be true, her dark thoughts...
'He couldn't be..., could he?'
She heard Ced's calm voice in her head. 'There must be another explanation.'
'He will never break his promise unless...'
'I tried reaching T.C but it is too noisy here.'
She looked at him, words were unnecessary between them.
'I have arranged for us to leave in three days...but you still have your exams to clear.'
Swinging her legs, 'Later, these classes are not of much use in our world, are they?'
'Then why waste three years?'
'As if, you don't know the answer to that?'
'You could have enrolled with me. You had the grades.'
 'Just the grades, not the aptitude...can't atleast you see? I needed to get away from them all. Those pitying faces, they knew, they always did.'
 Ced shook his head sadly, pulling away from their connection, 'You are so wrong. They still wonder why you had to leave, if the letters to Ceci are anything to go by.'


5

Three of her classmated passed her by. One waved  as the other two stared at her cousin.

She waved back robotically, surprised at the extra grins directed at her. With the exception of Sarah, the girl who waved, they had never spoke more than a few words to her in all these years. They considered her odd, often laughing at her Indian accent.

She made no move to introduce him, as she watched with equal contempt.

Turning to him, “So what where you saying? Those things in common?” raising an eyebrow.

“For once, are as stubborn as you.”

She had to laugh at that.

Epilogue


Ali and Simi trudged up the slope... the others would have gathered on the top by now.

Ali looked at the plains in grim silence.

 Simi walked quietly beside, the ideal travel and sparring partner to her twin, though she was hard pressed as to why he didn't fly the carpet.

Reading his thoughts, “ This journey is as much for her as Shammi Uncle, isn’t it?”

He looked at her for a moment and responded, “ I promised to protect her and failed.”

“You saved her life…the healer says that her soul is lost in the void, not left her body yet.”

Ali smiled,a first in many months.

There were many sad eyed, happy faces that stared back at them.

“How is Ria?” asked T.C as a small group approached them.

“ The same since you  last visited.”

“Come children, change into your robes, the memorial chants begin shortly.”

An Experiment With Loss

She closed the front door firmly, but not before a "Come a little earlier tomorrow, we have to go out." She walked towards the guest room that doubled as the computer room. The small house did not offer much in walking as an exercise. She turned on the computer, ambled to the window, stood watching the street below while it fired up. It was just 10 am and the summer sun was glaring back at her in all his glory. She squinted painfully, before closing the lace curtains.

Sitting on the slide back chair, she was soon lost to the world around her. As she opened her inbox to check the mails, thought she heard a soft voice whispering. Dismissing it as the by product of an over active imagination, turned her attention to a forwarded joke mail and chuckled quietly as she read through it. There was the voice again. It was steadily yet softly humming in a rhythm. She recognised the faint echoes of her name. Someone was calling out to her, but an unfamiliar voice, not one you could identify at first hearing. 

'Sounds like the noise is coming from the front door, maybe, the bell isn't working...but why didn't they knock on the wood?'

Grumpily got up, as she neared a particular doorway, it become obvious that the sound emanated from in there. She peeped in cautiously, 'What if it was a stalker?'

 The scene before her was a stuff of dreams. The table was occupied and looked inviting. She stepped in the room and glanced at them all. They looked back at her, bright and attractive.

 Running her fingers through her unkempt hair, her eyes and heart aglow, she silently argued,

"One more day wouldn't make that much of a difference, would it?

"It will not, but that is not the issue here!'

'What is?'

'Accountability!'

'Go away, won't you?'

'Not this time, not for a long time. Get over yourself. I am here to stay.'

Sighing, she made to move, when the soft voice from before hummed again. It came from the left side of the table, she noted absently. The voice suddenly went quiet as newer ones that had been silent were now gaining momentum, whispering pleasant entreaties. Enticing words that appealed to a particular emotion far more than to the others were being uttered from all corners. The whispers soon grew louder, now clamouring for her undivided attention.

Some solicited her presence openly displaying their best qualities. They preened and pouted, reminding her of her latest zoo visit. He had been strutting around, showing off his colourful feathers much like these. They were obviously for ones with expensive tastes with snobby airs.

 Two of the group watched the commotion with detachment bordering on amusement. They needed no extra charms or marketing skills to attract, secure in the knowledge of her servitude.

"She is addicted to us, all right." the creamy tones remarked, catching his reflection.

"Quite right, if the perky eyes are anything to go by. But, admit it brother, she prefers me to you.” retorted the powdery voice cracking his knuckles in boredom.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Honestly you make me laugh. Not a day goes by without her wistful glances at me, where you are ignored for weeks together." whistling in contentment.

"Only glances" smirking, "It's this dude she reaches for with her delicate fingers, when she needs a shoulder to cry on...'" before immersing himself in pleasant day dreams.

She was bemused, unsure when someone else who had been watching this banter with growing irritation, butted right in. 

"Stop your vain glory, insolent fools! One of these, I am going too..." the fourth, much older voice was interrupted as a fight broke out.

She stood shell shocked, unable to react, amazed that all this drama was for her humble self.

"Move over, you greasy son of a cow!" ordered the dark one with a fragrance to die for...

'He tasted heavenly too.' 

The greasy son not to be outdone pitched himself firmly in the way. In a voice dripping with disdain "Mister Greasy keeps her breezy on those lonely nights, you leave her by."

The round bellied said wisely, "Meet her comforter on all days of the year. No one else is dearer to her."

"Why don't we just ask her?" the soft voice from earlier spoke, now seated rather uncomfortably on the table top.

"Not a bright idea, this new one of yours." the rest sneered.

The gentle one retreated, beaten again, a score of zero to six. 

She felt a stab of pity for him, for he was one of her favourites. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, that had the ones at the table mighty concerned.

'Was she ill? That would spell disaster.'

'Was she in a bad mood?’ the dark one sure hoped so, for he would become the chosen one for today.

'If she is unhappy, I stand a chance' the beaten one's face perked up with this happy thought.

She looked at them all for what seemed like eternity, clenching and unclenching her fists.

'This can't be happening'

'It is and will get worse' smug tones proclaimed.

'Make them leave!' she begged.

'Only you can. Use your power of discretion.'  then faded away.

The internal conflict resolved, she gave them an accusatory look. There was guilt and longing mixed in too.

Poking through the wooden cabinet by the table yielded the usual suspects. She picked up the manual from the seat and sat down near them. Adding a glass of skim milk to the bowl of muesli, sprinkling it generously with pomegranates, she ate in silence and mild frustration, reading the instructions.

The soft voice, hurt and thus emboldened, openly cried 

"What went wrong in our friendship? I stood by you..." rudely interrupted by

"We all did, for over a decade, through thick and thin, and this is the thanks we get?"

She munched on, head down, struggling to articulate her thoughts. She flipped through the manual in her hand and finally decided to end the game once and for all.

"Yes, I appreciate what you did for me. The highs and feeling of being loved you fostered in me."

Pausing, 'Had she finally lost her mind' then continuing,

"But I hate, really do, the other gifts you have bestowed on me."

"What other gifts? All our gifts are good!" they screamed in unison.

"These tyres on my stomach which had me resembling a bleached whale at last week’s party. Not forgetting the scary proximity of my David and that flirty, size four Kim."

 Then with wishful moaning, “He has promised me a solitaire if I lay off ...”

 The breakfast over, she dumped the deadly seven, one by one into the garbage can... apologising over and over again.

She had passed the first test, the one set by the Food Addicts Anonymous. Heaving sigh of relief...if only, she didn't suffer a relapse the third time!

wc 1163

Journey's end

Lightning flashed in the distance. They sans one huddled closer drawing comfort from each other. The swirling black clouds were visible indicating that their journey was at its end. Yet, darkness would arrive before them. The winding road seemingly friendly an hour ago was at its treacherous best. The trees lining both sides were gnarled in places, hideous stumps at others, the roots spreading out onto the pathway like greedy fingers. The leafless branches rustled and bent towards them. This is an illusion. The shaman’s dying warning echoed. Icy hands trailed through their limbs. Fear, the warriors accepted, welcomed, but this unseen entity chilled their hearts, dulled their instincts, made them cower like the villagers they were bound to protect.

Ashan, the self appointed leader, twirled his blood stained scimitar. Basher balked at the other’s impatience, then nudged the unsure group forward. He waited for the one tagging behind. She moved with firm, alert steps belying her tender age. She had impressed Bashir by offering to be the bait. The council had happily agreed.

 He had sworn then to protect her with his life.  

A flash of light revealed the looming grey castle. Thunder made its presence felt. Then. Utter silence. They stopped a few feet away from the gates. Ashan turned to Bashir. “Take the girl and walk ahead. We follow close behind.”

Why single me out? “Come. It’s time.” in the kindest tone he could manage.

One of the gates unbolted, wide enough for a person to pass through.

 He stopped her as she moved forward. “I go first.”

The iron door closed behind them. Bashir rushed back trying in vain to wrench it open.

His reward was bloodied fingers.

Yasmin watched him, the slow hunger now a raging need. The warrior’s blood smelled sweet. A feast tonight.

Wc 300 Exact.

Some 55 ers

Curve Ball
Sometimes life throws you a curve ball before you can throw one back.

Everything arranged to perfection, the invites were out.
The surprise party, a celebration of our fifth anniversary.

Today he dropped a bomb, he is seeing someone and wants a divorce.
The report lay unopened on the dressing table, I was finally pregnant.

Submitted to Love in Creativity Project (flash Fiction)


Twin No More?

Disjointed arms flay helplessly; for the price of gaining one, the loss of the other.  
Can you choose to snuff off with a knife?
Will he miss the one that's gone or this so called bonding just a scientist's game?
 Will he smile now, he of the ones whose grimace bespoke the pained, gasping existence?




The Stampede

I moved along with the surging crowd, a pilgrimage after two months of religious austerities fulfilled...

I knew not, I would breath my last before leaving God's Abode...

Buck passing between the Government, the Temple board and Forest Reserve Officials starts; while my mother, wife and child weep over me in the ice cold morgue.

(Based on the stampede in a major pilgrimage centre, Sabrimala Temple, Periyar Tiger Reserve, Kerala where over a 100 men from the four southern states lost their lives  last week.)

The Dietician

Seated in cosy chairs the three waited impatiently as the aroma wafted around…she asked her sister if she wanted a cheesy crust…the reply was negative, couldn’t pile on the kilos….finally it arrived…satiated they asked if he wanted another slice, should they order another?…”but mom, pizza makes you fat”, the wise three year old retorted sharply.

 (Based on a true talk between my nephew Sidartha aka Sid, his mom {my sister in law} and me.)


The Gift
'Go on' said the laughing voice. She gingerly unzipped the bag.....squealed and waltzed around  with the gift in tow. The father looked on with disdain and reprimanded, 'shouldn't be spoiling your 22 year old sister like that'. He grinned broadly and whispered through a suffocating hug,'a girl is never too old for a teddy!!'.


The Nightly Ritual

She stared at them, they stared right back. Should she, should she not?... One swallow was all the act needed. One today, one tomorrow, one the day after and so on. Till a day came, when she lost and they took over. She stared at them...Pure and enticing, promising dreamless sleep : Her white pills.

The Prick

It had been a good 30 minutes since they had exited. Not an easy pick, this one. The indecisive ones were the worst. Wouldn't have spared her a second thought any other time. But afternoon's were the dullest part of the day. And Tuesday’'s meant that the other three in the lane were closed to business. The fierce competition motivated him, though he wished his parents hadn't been dirt poor.

He watched as she entered with trepidation, tugging at her companion's arm. He looked on bemused, as she hesitated at the door before being pulled in rather forcibly ....

Nervously she muttered "I have decided." and asked cautiously "will it hurt?"

His eyes seemed to twinkle in the harsh lights as he replied "hardly, trust me..you are in capable hands."

"But they say its painful..."

"This isn't your first time, I presume..."

She shook her head, barely remembering the event.....It was so long ago and she had been too young to comprehend. She looked at her friend for moral support.

Her friend encouraged her with "We have discussed this enough times already....just go ahead and get it over with."

"I don't have all day" he said, clearly put off. 

She stood frozen, uncertain....

Her friend spoke again, with a hint of impatience "He knows what he is doing...you are worrying without cause..."

He added, sensing a thaw in her "One shot and it will be over .... you won't even register the prick....and you will not be disappointed with the result..."

Sighing, she got on the couch.....sure enough, it was over before she could collect her thoughts.

She was feeling better already....when he interrupted her musings "My reward, Madam...."

She flushed, apologised and handed him a few notes.....

As she stepped out, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror at the entrance.

There it nestled, glistening in the sunlight, tiny silver loops, her second ear piercing.....

 cwc 321

Heavenly Matches

‘Matches under the stars’ the message had coded a dozen times. She debated the futility of it, desire overriding her fears, slithered her awkward way to the booth. The bored looking assistant looked her once over, before leading her in. Strapped to the ‘Biosync’, Zooawoong made her specific request.

“Outcome not possible,” the machine replied.

She eyes would have watered, but for the lack of tear ducts. As the assistant waited, she sought ‘his’ help.

His rolling gait, meant, a reprimand was to be expected. His thoughts filtered through. “The Boh-ring are better suited, child.”

She remained unmoved, looking in disgust at the appendages that served for limbs. Two legged was so graceful!

He glanced at his lovelorn spawn. Being the Emperor of ‘Piles Star Systems’ wasn’t easy.

The Solians were shrewd, driving a hard bargain. The young male she fancied was no match, lacking the tentacles - their power source.

“Appearances don’t matter to him. I hear him say, all the time.”

Surely not, he wasn’t the one losing precious assets. An icy moon and a moon base hadn’t been enough. Maybe, the smallest of the ‘Diamond’ planets their captain fancied would clinch the deal, get her the mate.

was the search over?

‘Magnolia virginiana’...was his search over? He twirled the dried flower in his hand, its whiteness showing signs of fading. The collection was strikingly similar to Rachel’s arrangement. His childhood memories were hazy at best, but some retained their clarity. The vanilla scent had soothed him through those difficult years and now seemed to waft around. Three years of devoted research had brought him to their doorstep. Their initial reluctance had faded under his passionate plea; he wasn’t one to give up easily. The foster parents had been kind enough to leave him alone, in, what might be his playmate’s room.

Compromises

'She wears my ring', the lingering smile on his face announced to all the attendees at the wedding reception.

His fidgety movements betrayed his impatience over her delayed appearance.

"Relax. These ladies always turn up late, must be busy with her makeover," said his cousin shrugging his shoulders casually.

His movements eased, but barely so. His relatives had echoed similar sentiments using different words at various stages of the wedding.

"Stop asking these silly questions. Brides are nervous on their wedding day."

His nosy aunt had stated, overhearing the words exchanged by him and the best mate.

"We, girls, are expected to be shy and modest, at least on such days." The sister had butted in with her wise tuppence patting his arm for added effect.

Maybe they were right, they were experienced after all. Her quiet, solemn look, her rare glancing his way could be explained thus, couldn't it?

His heartache lessened, and he went back to standing at the entrance to the lobby.

***

Through the final touches of makeup, she twirled the diamond engagement ring on her hand. As she glanced at the mirror in front of her, the black and gold beads among other jewellery on her neck glinted back, signalling her married status.

She touched them gingerly with her finger tips eliciting a gentle admonishing from the beautician.

"Madam, please keep your hands down, the nail paint will get blotchy."

Inspecting her fingernails, the young girl sighed, “See, I have to redo it.", looking around for a bottle of remover.

She apologised with a smile, and stared at the ring instead. Little joy rather the feel of it on her finger felt like a heavy weight on her soul. Her heart still beating for another. For the charming boy with the impish grin, who had wound his way around, only to break it into countless pieces years later.

Her husband was a good man, deserving more than she could offer. They were family friends, her parents adored him as his loved her. He had always encouraged her, made her laugh.

*** 

Her transfer would take time. This year of separation would turn out to be a blessing. Looking into his adoring eyes as he took her hand in his, she promised herself, he would never know that their marriage had begun as a compromise for her.

cwc 391 need 109 more

The Wee people

You glided in, in your emerald studded golden glass slippers. The swishing of the grass gown's train; a deliberate attempt at distraction.

 "Too much green." grumbled one the members seated on the semi circular table. Untrained eyes often mistook its multi coloured embellishment for a rainbow. He secretly wished he wasn't dating.

"Energetic, not our trait." the wee woman in a nasal snarl.

The wizened, hated head chuckled happily, gathering ominous stares from the others. He ignored them as was wont to, thrilled at the prospect of a female assistant. He had tired of the bushy eyebrows and matching beards that tortured his daily vision.

"Oh my! Exquisite shoes!"  the secretary with her hand on her heart.

You leaned closer and mouthed in her ear, "Like them?  My boyfriend's gift for St.George's day." .

"English!! Ya codding me? Wind your neck in, Colleen." the older woman cautioned.

You laughed happily, throwing back your blonde hair, and showing off your perfect square gold teeth.

You moved to where the impatient trio waited, pulled out a chair, and passed your green leather across the table.

Pale hands went through the embellished cards neatly stacked in chronological order. Accompanied by sighs and eyebrows lifted in disbelief, it was passed on to the older man .

He winked at you; you winked back with a conspiratorial smile.

"Impressive accomplishments, a talented family indeed." he added with a smug look. "King Midas?" barely with holding a snuffle.

"That would have been my great-great-great grandfather. Tricking him to touch his favourite daughter was so devious." 

The snarl turned into a smirk.

"Explain Julius Caesar." the soon to be single man.

"That would have been the sister, talented duo. As Cleopatra's bosom friend, she taught her all the womanly viles."

"Who is Silas Marner?" 

"Oh...that would be my morai...can I tell a secret?"

Wizened eyes sparkled, "She never told us."

You looked at your uncle with a warningly, "She was in love with him, Espie foiled her plans."

"Dubai shopping festival? 

"That would be Patrick, he loves his gold even the black one."

"What do you bring on board?"

"The Federal Reserve vaults. Three bars for every three plus three we give them."

A few minutes of hushed conversation,

"Let's inform the President of our newest portfolio manag..."

The secretary interrupted with an "It’s Lucifer on line..."

"Tell him, the 'Leprechaun Gold Inc' are greed investors not soul collectors."

wc 400