Creative ramblings
There are some stories I penned down at various points in my life, inspired by people I knew closely or at heard of...and somewhere there thoughts plagued me day-in and day-out till I wrote them down in the form of these short stories...
Since they have remained as pages of my diary for quite sometime, I have now decided to post them on my blogspot....
The stories are not meant to be creative pieces per say, they are more of how I tried to look at a story from a aspect different from the apparent one.... In Miranda house when we did the creative writing workshop with Valerie Minor, she used to tell us that we should never be apologetic about what we write...so here it is.
Beyond the Inevitable
Our small drawing room was stuffed with people. It was almost spilling over. In all these years, I had not seen so many people ever in this room, not even on our marriage...
Maaji's constant wailing prevailed over the hushed voices. Only a few spoke regarding the arrangements that were to be made. The air was thick with the smoke from the incense sticks.
I sat in the corner, my head covered. I wondered where the children were...I saw them huddled in a corner together. Juhi sobbed inconsolably, her eyes were red, she loved her father, I knew she loved him more than me. Adnan sat very close to her, he looked afraid and scared, but I was sure he didnot have the vaguest idea of what was going on. He was still very young.
I felt...I didnot really know what I felt. Beside me were my in-laws, they had a very concerned look on their face. They were worried I guess because I wasn't crying, they wondered if I was in a state of shock...I wondered too. I mean, I wouldn't really need to see a shrink? Would I? They were all waiting, some staring at me, some in a more subtle way...waiting for me to emote in some way...
He had been sick, but not sick enough to die. His death was very sudden. I wasn't prepared for it, but...well, it's not easy being married to someone you do not love, it's not easy living with a man who is mentally unstable, it's not easy wanting to walk out everyday and knowing you cannot because you are financially dependent.
Its definitely not easy living your life like a compromise...maybe, that's why I was not being able to react..but then, I had been married for 17 years now, he was the father of my children. I felt something inside, I couldnot figure out what...would I too need psychiatric help?
Maaji came forward, she was grief-stricken. He had been her only son. She took my hand in hers, the last time she had done that was when I had first come here, an 18-year-old bride- crying for all that I had left behind...all the people, all the relationships...
I couldnot understand the apologetic look on Maaji's face. I wondered why...it was part of the ritual they said. She was going to break the glass bangles I was wearing. Mechanically I held out my hand. As the two bangles splintered into pieces, I felt one dominant emotion...
Freedom.
It was then that my eyes welled up.
Since they have remained as pages of my diary for quite sometime, I have now decided to post them on my blogspot....
The stories are not meant to be creative pieces per say, they are more of how I tried to look at a story from a aspect different from the apparent one.... In Miranda house when we did the creative writing workshop with Valerie Minor, she used to tell us that we should never be apologetic about what we write...so here it is.
Beyond the Inevitable
Our small drawing room was stuffed with people. It was almost spilling over. In all these years, I had not seen so many people ever in this room, not even on our marriage...
Maaji's constant wailing prevailed over the hushed voices. Only a few spoke regarding the arrangements that were to be made. The air was thick with the smoke from the incense sticks.
I sat in the corner, my head covered. I wondered where the children were...I saw them huddled in a corner together. Juhi sobbed inconsolably, her eyes were red, she loved her father, I knew she loved him more than me. Adnan sat very close to her, he looked afraid and scared, but I was sure he didnot have the vaguest idea of what was going on. He was still very young.
I felt...I didnot really know what I felt. Beside me were my in-laws, they had a very concerned look on their face. They were worried I guess because I wasn't crying, they wondered if I was in a state of shock...I wondered too. I mean, I wouldn't really need to see a shrink? Would I? They were all waiting, some staring at me, some in a more subtle way...waiting for me to emote in some way...
He had been sick, but not sick enough to die. His death was very sudden. I wasn't prepared for it, but...well, it's not easy being married to someone you do not love, it's not easy living with a man who is mentally unstable, it's not easy wanting to walk out everyday and knowing you cannot because you are financially dependent.
Its definitely not easy living your life like a compromise...maybe, that's why I was not being able to react..but then, I had been married for 17 years now, he was the father of my children. I felt something inside, I couldnot figure out what...would I too need psychiatric help?
Maaji came forward, she was grief-stricken. He had been her only son. She took my hand in hers, the last time she had done that was when I had first come here, an 18-year-old bride- crying for all that I had left behind...all the people, all the relationships...
I couldnot understand the apologetic look on Maaji's face. I wondered why...it was part of the ritual they said. She was going to break the glass bangles I was wearing. Mechanically I held out my hand. As the two bangles splintered into pieces, I felt one dominant emotion...
Freedom.
It was then that my eyes welled up.
3 Comments:
hey i just would want to know how these thoughts came through your mind. are these stories inspired by stories u see in real life...? i was really in awe to read the story because i felt there was lot of depth in the whole story and i was left wanting for more . i guess u can develop more on it...
basically good work...we would love to read more of ur work..
Bring them on. Acidrock seems to be awed, and I bet there will be more takers for your stories!
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