The Hunting

She called out, rather shouted at him. She yelled, she growled, she roared to stop him. She wanted to, but could not get up, for she was too weak to do so. He stopped for a moment and looked back. He could see her crying. She was in agony. The pain was increasing with each moment. The pain was getting unbearable. He looked at her one last time, turned back and jumped over the small rock and disappeared into the bushes.

He did not stop. He could not. For all the females in the pride were waiting for him. There was a new flock of zebras coming their way. This was their first chance to get a good hunt after last few weeks of draught. It cannot be ignored. He knew this. Even she knew this, but she wanted him to be by her, may be for the last time. Emotions do not matter at such situations – at least not for the King of the Jungle!

The lionesses moved slowly in the tall yellow dead grasses of the Kalahari, trying to single out an animal of their choice; probably the weakest one and the farthest one from the herd. They camouflaged themselves in the grassy fields and moved silently as if nothing is actually moving. The lion, the head of the pack went ahead swiftly and created his ambush behind the tall crag, away from the cirque. He sprawled in front lying low in the grass. He was the last thing a running animal will see when it nears him. The ambush was well planned and almost impeccable. Two of the females were ahead towards the right of the neck of the herd of zebras and one was in the last, following them. Two more were to the left following the herd as they single out the zebra which was almost at its full age and was limping a bit. Once in eight steps! That was enough for the lionesses to choose it for their meal. Probably a fracture in one of the hind limbs that might have occurred while crossing the vast grasslands; a small twist of the hoof was going to be the reason for his demise now. However, who has the time to think about these now? The lions were hungry. They were on a hunt – hunt for their food. A zebra is a mere meal to them.

The last of the lionesses started the chase. It just ran through the flock in random and bifurcated the whole flock into two. The zebras were all targets at this moment, and having nowhere to hide, they just ran wherever they could. The target zebra was in the left part of the scattered lot. A few moments later the lionesses in the right marched in; a soft march scattering the rest of the flock and covering the object towards the cliff, where the chief was waiting. They did not run into the zebras, they just walked in, saving their energy for the ultimate chase. The zebras were running for life, as the other two lionesses in the left were just following the target keeping their bloody eyes fixed at it. Moments later, they started chasing the zebras in front of them in full pace. The zebras did not know who exactly the target was; probably the target knew it, but could think only to run – run as fast and as far as possible! The lioness that started the chase slowed down and stopped chasing at one point in time. She started walking towards the meeting place – the cliff. As the last few zebras were nearing the cliff, it was time for the two lionesses at the right to maintain the chase. They came out of the grasses and started chasing the one target now. There were four lionesses running behind it now, and it had only one place to heed to – the cliff. That was exactly what the lions wanted and it concurred. It was running directly towards the target area. The four lionesses formed a ‘V’ pattern and chased the poor creature. The formation changed as two of the lionesses at the left slowed down as the zebra paced towards the cliff. It was almost near the perfect point, when the slouching lion jumped with a thunderous roar with paws ready to break the neck of his hunt. The zebra looked up one last time. It could see only two paws and some yellow skin. It breathed last moments after this.

The chase was successful. The hunt was successful. Now, the pack had a good serving for a week at least for all of them, even for the ailing lioness. The ailing lioness! He almost forgot about her amidst the heat of the hunt. She must be waiting for them – for him. He wasted no time. He jumped on the zebra. Jabbed his nails on the chest of the dying animal and cut it into half. He grabbed one part and tore away one of the limbs and took it in his mouth and stepped ahead. He looked back at the pack and everyone got his signal. They tore apart the carcass into pieces and took them in their mouths. The lion started running back to the den as everybody else followed. They ran, as fast as they could for they were failing to match his pace, leading in front. They were tired, they were hungry but they ran.

They reached the den in no time. He could see her lying there; with her eyes searching for him. As he came near, she tried to look up. She could not. He dropped the piece of meat in front of her and sat there. She could see him now. He was breathing heavily – she was breathing heavier! He could see her dying. He tried to smile, but could not. He could not have cried too – and he did not. He put one of his paws in between her paw and head. She rested her head on that. She smiled and closed her eyes. He rested his head on hers. The heavy breathing continued for a long time as he fell asleep in the same posture. The breathing stopped somewhere in between, he could not feel it. When he woke up, the other lionesses were sitting encircling them. He looked at their faces and it told him all. He looked around. The carcass laid there, same place. A few flies were hovering over the meat and a few more over the dead lioness.

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Heads Or Tails #79 - Case

You can try this at Heads or Tails - Home of the Tuesday Meme

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Shona was bathing in the pond near her house. It is not their own, but since it is in the neighborhood, everyone in her house used to bath in this pond. A fishpond, but habitually used for bathing and washing. Where else would everybody go? They had only two ponds in the village and the other one is strictly used by the fisheries. She dipped in a couple of times and came out. She was about to keep the soap on the rock near her and it just slipped out of her hands and fell into the water. She dipped in again and searched for a long time, but could not retrieve it. She cried, but no one came to her aid, for it was noon and everybody was busy working in the fields. No one had time to search a soap cake in water for this 7 years old kid. She was alone. She was helpless and she was at fault. This is the second soap in two months that her father bought her a soap cake and she lost it. A soap might cost a huge sum and that was the reason father never used to get her one that frequently. Father will be fuming on this and may not buy her any more soap in the future. She has lost her soap now – probably the last one! Her bathing was over.

She cried for a couple of minutes more, but once she realized that there would be no one coming towards her, she stood up. She gathered her wet cloths and started walking back towards home.

“It’s not my fault at all,” she told to herself. “I asked father to bring a soap case along with the soap. He did not bring it last time too. I warned him about this. Maybe, I did. Whatever, but it’s not my fault. It’s his fault that I lost the soap today. I would not cry anymore. Why should I? Even Lailee lost her soap the other day and she borrowed mine. And this time, it’s not my mistake. I’ll ask father to buy me one more soap and this time and a soap case as well – the pink one!” She was confident now and had all the answers to father’s probable questions.

Shona talked to herself all the way home. She was convinced that it was not her liability that the soap was lost. She was even prepared to face her father now and was sure to scold him for not buying her the case. She would not let him escape by scolding her for no fault of her own. After all, the soap was lost for the want of a case!

She looked around as she crossed the fencing around their house. There was no one there; probably the ladies were all asleep and her father was obviously in the field. She crept in silently. She went to the hanging lines and hung her cloths. She paid her regards to the Gods in the small temple and went inside the house. Everybody else was asleep, as she thought. She went to the kitchen and had her lunch. It was almost time to go to play now and she did not waste a single moment to reach Lailee’s house. She had forgotten about the soap totally by now.

She came back before dusk, cleaned herself and took out her books. She sat on the mat with a bowlful of puffed rice mixed with onions and some mustard oil. It was almost dark and she had to use the lantern. She has just started learning the alphabet and it was fun for her. Everything was so new and funny. No one in the house could read any of those symbols there. If it would not have been for her selfless teaching, her father would not have been able to recognize anything from that book. She was proud because of that and used to put a lot of effort while studying and teaching. She had almost finished the alphabet now and would start learning the digits in some days. She was very happy. She took out the book and started to read the letters on top of her voice.

“Shonaaa…” Her father called her aloud once he entered the premises of the house. She ran out of the house and leaped on him, as any other good evening. The very touch of her father sunk something deep inside her. She remembered the soap! Oh! All her happiness disappeared. She felt vanquished. All her thoughts of self confidence vanished. She was in her father’s arms – the safest place in the world she knew; but that could not stop her from howling out! She grabbed her father with both hands; as tightly as possible and broke into tears. Father kept on asking what happened but did not get a reply. She kept on shedding tears as he was holding her close to him. She cried and cried more and when she was tired, she slept – all the time in her father’s arms. After a long time when there was no more sound and no more tears on his shoulders, the father realized that Shona was asleep. He shook her a little and got no response. He took her to the bed and slowly but carefully laid her down. Just before he left her, two words came out of her mouth, which made no sense to him, “Soap Case.”

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A Rainy Encounter

It was another Monday and he knew not what to do. The morning was broken and no Sun rose. Dark clouds covered the sky like a thick blanket. A few beams of light came out from here and there but could never match the sunshine he had yesterday. The sip on the cup of tea was bleak – it tasted like syrup and looked like mud water. He kept the cup aside and stood up from the easy chair. He removed the yellow dirty curtains with his shivering hands and moved out in to the verandah. The indoor plants there were still wet from the late night drizzle and so were the streets down. He held the railings tightly and looked up once again towards the sky.

Drops of pearl are hiding
Behind the blanket of cloud
The glacier of rains
Not moving but shouting aloud.

Go away, O cloud great,
Let there be sunshine,
Let the rays pierce my heart
And reach this soul of mine.

No, it would not rain soon, he thought. Is it good time to go out? He looked at his watch, probably for the tenth time this morning and it tells the same time. It was time to sit back at home and get more bored. He turned back towards the door of the verandah and leaned backwards on the railings. He took out the small linen piece to clean his spectacles, again for the tenth time probably. It was shining like gold by now. He cleaned it once more and went inside.

He turned on the TV to see if there was anything interesting. Astha Channel! Damn! There is nobody home today. He need not pretend to be watching this freaking channel anymore. He turned on the Sports Channel. WWF – yeah, the program to watch now. He liked this fat man in red and white, but could not recall his name. Whatever, he was good – he thrashed those two bulldogs the other day and it was fun to watch. Let’s see what he does today to this bear in yellow.

“साब, मैं जाऊँ?” (“Sir, may I go?”) the maid enquired. She has always been so nice to him. Always ready to serve him the way he wants. She’s probably the only person in the world who takes good care of him. Probably an ‘achhut’ (untouchable) – pretty dark, tall and exposing! She must be in her late twenties. She has all those immature gestures of that age. Probably unmarried too, but he never had the guts to ask her. These people do not clad that way too, so you cannot just tell if they are married just by looking at them.

“साब, अब मैं जाऊँ?” (“Sir, may I go now?”) the maid enquired again. Damn!

“सिउली, बेठ न थोडी देर. घर में कोई नही है. थोडी देर बय्ठ्के चली जाना.” (“Shiuli, stay for some time. There is no one in the house. Stay for some time and then go.”)

“साब, दूसरी जगह भी जाना है.” (Sir, I need to go to another place too.)

“अभी, अभी जाना है?” (“Do you need to go right now?”)
“हम्म, नही. थोडी देर बय्ठ्के जाती हूँ.” (“Hmm, no. I shall stay for some time.”)

She sat near him, alongside his easy chair. He felt anxious. She was sitting so close to him that he almost could smell her sweat. He hoped that it starts raining and never stops now.

Rain now,
As if you never did
Wash away the earth along
For, it’s you now, whom I need!

Rain hard,
As long as you want to,
Don’t ask me why, now
Just that I want you.

He could easily feel that Shiuli did not take much interest in wrestling. So, he gave the remote to her and asked her to select a channel she would like to watch. She took the remote with a tiny leap, but then looked back at him as if asking permission. He smiled at her and winked. She was all smiles. Could not read much though, but she was happy getting this unexpected privilege. She browsed through the channels and finally held on to a Hindi movie channel which was showing a not-so-new movie on it. Shiuli seems to be enjoying.

He could not look at her directly, even if he wanted to. He tried to move within his chair as far as possible, but could not get a glimpse of her. He moved again and again in quick succession, but still Shiuli’s beautiful face was away from him. He could feel the togetherness and the proximity, not knowing if Shiuli was feeling the same. He did not care for that. He was trying to get as close as possible, in his own way, from within the boundary of the easy chair.

“गोविंदा मेरा सबसे मनपसंद हीरो है साबजी. आपको भी अच्छा लगता है?” (Govinda is my favorite hero, Sir. Do you like him too?”)

He came out tearing through the spell of her beauty.

“हाँ, हाँ क्यों नही. बहोत अच्छा है. और कौन अच्छा लगता है तुझको?” (“Yes, why not? Whom else do you like?”)

“गोविंदा, शाहरुख़, अमिताभ और सलमान. आपको?” (“Govinda, Shahrukh, Amitabh and Salman. And who’s your favorites?”)

“हाँ, मुझे भी.” (“Yes, I too like them.”)

It started to rain outside. It was drizzling, but now it was heavy – just what he wished for. Shiuli was getting more relaxed and friendly with him. She let go the knot in her hair and let it loose. A subtle fragrance filled the atmosphere. He could feel it – more with every breath he took. At times, she would catch hold of the leg of the easy chair and would shake it. The sudden movement would set a chilling feeling in his spine. He was very excited – a feeling of freedom and mischief was filling his mind. He was about to ask her to close the door to the verandah when she looked up at the wall clock.

“मर गयी साब! नौ बज गया. मुझे दूसरी जगह भी जाना है.” (“Oh My God Sir! It’s 9 o’clock now. I need to go to another place too.”)

“चली जाना. ये फ़िल्म तो खतम करले.” (“Finish this film and go.”)

“नही साब. मुझे अभी जाना होगा. घर में मेरा एक साल का एक बच्चा भी है. अकेला है वो. मुझे अभी जाना होगा.” (“No Sir. I need to go now. I have left my one year old kid back home. It is alone. I need to leave now.”) With these words, she stood up and started to tie her hair.

He was dumbstruck! He never saw that coming, not from any direction he could think of. He felt lost. He felt selfish. He felt weird and shitty. Ashamed! He knew not how to react. A weird feeling filled his head and the feeling moved down through the throat and chest and reached his stomach. It was almost aching! He sat straight in the easy chair, trying to relax. He was breathing heavily – almost audible. He wanted to walk up to the door and open the door by himself, but could not even stand up. His heart was sinking and he could feel it. He could utter no word.

Rain O rain,
Stop pouring!
Take a break and stop for sometime
Let her reach her goal. Then rain again!

The downpour slowed down. Shiuli left, not before reminding him of the glass of milk and his medicines. He raised his right hand as if he promised her to have those on time. She locked the door behind her and threw the key from beneath the door. He need not move towards the door. He could not. He was too ashamed to have looked at her again or to move any further. He sat there for I-don’t-know-how-long. The delicate scent of her body, hair and sweat prevailed, but he could not feel it anymore.

He stood up holding his knees. He walked up to the door to the verandah, removed the curtains and leaned on the railings. He remembered today to be another Monday morning. He ardently hated this time every week for four years, since the time he retired. It was not raining anymore, but the streets down were all wet. He looked up in despair. I am not sure, but probably he cried – for one last time!

A feeling so impure
I felt today,
I would shed tears, but then
Laugh, you may.

What would you do there?
Come down and pour on me
Drench me, soak me and clean me
O Cloud great, I pray to thee…

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Now, I Move Up

[This is my Entry to the "Ascension" Short Fiction Contest in Clarity of Night]

[Entry # 87]

Cross Posted in The Writer's Lounge

I came back to consciousness when I felt the soft brushes of the escalator touching me over my jeans. I was standing on the stairs and they were ascending. The earth always moves; but I never sensed it before. How dumb I was! I kept on howling and repenting on my times of yore, when I was stagnant and everything else kept moving – in its own pace. Nothing stopped for me; none stopped for me. I wailed, when I found myself abandoned in life. I saw my people moving ahead and felt left out. I cried. I saw my life stuck in debris of faults, mistakes and losses. I stopped dreaming and I stopped craving for realizing them too. I had no aim in life. I lost all hopes.


This is when I met him – the man of my thoughts. He changed my life completely. He took me by my hands and led me into the world that constantly rotates and revolves. I no more expect people to stop for me and say a few words of praise. Now, I do whatever it takes to materialize my dreams and acquire everyone’s eulogy. How I wish to have met him earlier! He lifted me from the ashes as this escalator is lifting me to the next level. Today is the day I have been waiting for. Today is the day of triumph. I just need to reach the apex and step into a life where the escalators move up – only upwards!

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Missing Her ...

“No, I’m leaving now.”

“Please stay. We have only ten more minutes and after that we can…”

She did not let me finish my words and stood up. She took her books, held them close to her chest and looked straight into Dr. K. P. Ranade’s eyes. He looked back.

“Sorry Sir, I need to go now. I’m getting late.”

Before he could utter a word, Gayatri was out of the class. He went (almost) running behind her as if to call her and raised his hand in anticipation. He was about to shout when he stopped. He came back with a dropped head and came close to the green board. He threw the chalk stick out of the window which got lost in the dark in a flash, and smiled; as if he was thinking of his olden golden days. He looked at me. I moved my eyes away from him.

“Class is adjourned for the day,” he said as he picked up the duster to clean his hand and the board.

Everybody looked at each other. This never happened in last two years here. We were used to Dr. Ranade’s four hours of class, two days a week and every week for the last two years. We were in dilemma, whether to move out or it was one more prank from this old prankster.

“Do I send you a card now? Get lost,” he shouted in the peak of his voice and the whole building shook. I felt my desk moving and we jumped from our chairs and went straight out of the class, into the lawn and out of the gate of the institute.

It is half past nine now and one and half hours for the schedule closure of classes. The watchmen looked at us in surprise. Does everybody know Dr. Ranade and his way of teaching? I doubt! I was amongst the first few who leaped out of the classroom. I got a glance of the old man’s eyes while leaving as if he was asking me to stay back and talk to him and help him out of his misery; but I was on my own hurry – and I rushed out to see if I can find Gayatri somewhere. I came out, crossed the road and asked Rajan, the shopkeeper to give me a light. I took one out of the cigarette box and lit it outside the dark shop. There was hardly any customer apart from us, the students of Prabhabati School of Business and Entrepreneurship. It was so dark that I could only see the main gate of our campus with the golden logo on it and the last part of the name of the college in silver.

“Did you see Gayatri around here? She came out a few minutes ago.” I held the cigarette between two fingers and asked Rajan, who went clueless. I knew he would not tell anything without any tip; but I did not have any to offer him. I went past the shop and crossed the road again and came closer to the gate. One of those ogling watchmen came running as if I was detonating a bomb there.

“I’m not coming in with the cigarette. Stop.” I held my palm up and told him. He stopped but strolled towards me.

“Did you see Gayatri, I mean, a girl in jeans and white jacket coming out of the class before us? She left just before us and came out. Did you see anything?”

“No.” He said and looked at me in anticipation. I took one more drag and left him stranded. A few of us went in their own vehicles and rest of us was waiting for the institute bus, to leave at eleven ten. I sat near the shop for a long time looking here and there, sometimes restlessly but could not locate Gayatri. She did not come till we left. The bus moved fast and I reached home in almost no time.

Gayatri did not turn up for the rest of the week. For some reason, Dr. Ranade skipped his next class too. Well, they say everything happens for the first time someday. We did not care much. I came back from school on Friday night and slept. I was tired.

“Sukanya, get up girl. It’s almost noon now. Your mother is waiting for you to go out.”

“Yes Bua, five minutes,” and I pulled the blanket and tried to steal those last moments of the morning sleep.

“There is news about your evening college. Some girl called Gayatri Ranade is missing for some days now and her father has advertised a callback. Check it when you wake up completely.”

Bua (My father’s sister) left leaving the paper on my bed side. The last few words rang in my head – Gayatri – missing – callback! I threw the bedspread and jumped on the paper, where I found the following note:


I could not read the number in full. My eyes were full of tears and Gayatri’s face appeared in front of me.

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For me, forever!

And there was this fairy, with a magic wand in her hand, who wanted to write her own story. She started writing on a piece of cloud, with a piece of sandal wood and rains as the ink; but every time she would start to write, she would end up crying, for she had no story to tell; for she was alone in this world. She had none with her to share her thoughts and she felt alone. She cried her heart out. She thought of her childhood and her life till now. She had kept herself busy waving her magic wand over the heads of poor and deserted people and making them happier in life – she was left alone – abandoned! She cried again.

Then she saw me. I was having everyone with me – my friends, my siblings, my parents and my stories! I was a truly happy kid, I mean, a boy (by the time we met). She came to me and asked me to tell me my stories, so that she can write them on the clouds. I told her many of my stories – the way I caught that dragon fly the other day beside our pond; the night I was left with all the gifts and sweets, before my 7th birthday; the day when I first went to school and the day I saw our cow and her newborn for the first time. She was happy after hearing all those. She held my hand and took me up, in the clouds. She made me sit on one while she pulled one for herself. Then she took the biggest cloud around and started writing my stories on it with a piece of sandal wood and rains as the ink. She wrote all my stories. She included my first visit to the church and my last days in my village. She wrote everything I told her. She was too good at writing. I loved it. I loved her. I told her. She smiled. She liked me too. I wanted to marry her. She agreed and she took her magic wand and waved over me – nothing happened. She waved it again – still no go. I did not change into a pigeon or a donkey. I did not understand what she was trying to do, for she was a fairy and she could do what I could not even think of. She tried a few times and gave up. She said that we cannot marry as she was a fairy and I was not. I understood that she wanted to make me a fairy too – but this time, her magical wand could do nothing to change me into one. She looked at me. I looked at her. I was going to say something, before I return to my home. She put her soft tiny hands over my lips and stopped me. I could utter no word. She smiled at me and threw her magic wand into the cloud on which she was writing the stories. The wand vanished and so did her fairy dress and wings. Her looks changed. She was just like me. She held my hand again and said in the loveliest voice ever, “I love you. Come.” And we stepped down from the clouds together. We could see the clouds around us – leaving us. We sped down the forest of clouds without hitting a single chunk of them. When we landed there, just outside the sweetest place on earth, she led me in to a house, made of biscuits and breads. I went in to see the most beautiful house in the world. She cooked me a cake and some pasta. I ate with delight. After I ate, she had me sleep on the bed of flowers with petals all over it. She sang me the sweetest of songs I ever heard and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I could see her nowhere near me. She left! I came out of the house screaming. I looked all around and she was not to be found. I was almost crying when I heard her voice from behind the house near the stream. She had only gone for a pale of water – for me. She saw me sitting on the mud and crying for her. She took me by my face and put it on her chest. She promised she would never leave me – not for anything; not for anyone. She told that she was mine – forever. From that moment in life, I am always happy. She is still there with me. She will always be there – for me, forever!

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A Small Halt

The bus stopped with a sudden jerk, as my eyes opened. It was almost dawn and we reached the transit point between Assam and Tripura – Churaibari, the place where every bus has to stop for clearance, before they can enter Tripura or go out of the state. The place was almost barren. There was nothing except the small Police Post, a tiny puncture shop and a still smaller tea stall where everyone went for washing their tired faces and probably, for a cup of tea and some cookies. Well, that’s all you would get there. A few hawkers were walking around with their goods – cucumber, masala muri or chanachur, boiled eggs and jackfruits. Nobody had the urge to eat those things at this early hour in the day. Even the hawkers knew that, I felt, for they were not shouting as much. Maybe they were saving the energy for the long day to come. The busses will come and leave, but they have to stay awake as late till midnight and get up again this time tomorrow. Most of the passengers were sluggish to get down from their seats. It was not light as yet. It was hot, but the dawn brought along a cool breeze that somehow made its way through the broken glass window panes of the bus. A few commuters went down and stretched themselves, after the night long slumber. On the way down, one of them came to me and asked if I have a matchbox. I realized that I can do well with a smoke too. I went down, lit the cigarette and looked up, as I smoked out. There was a ray of twilight coming from behind the bus, standing next to us. I showed the same to the man in his mid thirties, who looked at it but did not show any interest whatsoever. I wanted to see the sky more closely. And I walked down the road and tried to see through the windows of that bus, when I saw her for the first time. She was also travelling the same route, just behind me for almost 15 hours now and I am seeing her for the first time. What a shame! I came close to the window as the cigarette smoked itself, to have a closer look. She was asleep, wrapped up in that green blanket. I could see only her gorgeous face, with the same glow which felt like a bud, about to bloom. She did not move; her nostrils were still; the locks of hair on her face were brushing the lips, but she did not move. I threw the cigarette butt – it was useless to hold it when you are not smoking. I just wanted to call her, but my jaws were stuck. Suddenly my bus woke up and gave a nasty call – I had to go now, but can’t I talk to her for a moment? Can I just ask how she is and go? Nope. There was no time and it was too late. My mate in the bus popped out his head from the window and waved at me; my bus was about to leave. I looked at her for one last time – she was calm, relaxed and silent, unaware of any movement around her. The eyes would not open to see me, not even once. The helper swung himself out of the door and waved at me for the last time. The final call! I had to go and I left. I jumped in as the bus crossed the boundary slowly. It is going to run like hell once it crosses the border area. It would not wait for me. It would not wait for her, to come close to us. Her bus might have come here 15 minutes later and this distance in time will be maintained till we reach Agartala. I am not sure where she will get down. I could not think who will be waiting for her there. All I was able to think was her flawless face – I wish she would open her eyes for once. My mate asked in that grave voice of his, “Was there anybody in there, you know?” I was taken aback by this question. Never felt he would talk to me, after this long speechless journey. I don’t know if he heard my answer. I murmured within, “Yes, my wife - my ex wife!” and closed my eyes.

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Cats in Rain (Raining Cats)

[Another Story posted in The Writer's Lounge]

~~*!!(O!$!O)!!*~~

The mother’s lap was very cozy. She did not want to move out. It was almost evening and Mom will soon go out to fetch food. She would be left alone. She wanted to remain inside her fur and enjoy the warmth for as long as possible; but she could not. The mother suddenly rose from her nap and stood up. She looked around with suspicion and searched for something unknown. Cats are always like that. The little kitten has seen it happen when the neighbor’s bull dog comes down for a stroll, but this time, she was unsure of what the matter really was. She peeped out and saw – raindrops! It has started to drizzle. There was a fear in her mother’s eyes. Rain in the evening means there would be no outing for mother tonight, which means there will be no catch, which means they have to sleep without food yet another night. Oh! How much would she want the rains to stop! She is still young, and cannot go out with mother to hunt; yet she thinks she should at least do something to stop it from raining. She sneaked a look out of the old jeep ruins and looked up. It was real cloudy today; it was almost dark. She was about to come out of their shed, which they called home, but her mother’s paw stopped her from going out. The drizzle was gaining might. The mother would not let her child to go out. They looked at each other. Both were hungry. The mother could see it in her eyes. She was all prepared to go out and fetch some food for dinner; but it is raining now. Where would she go and what would she hunt? It was not unusual for her to go without food at night; but those were different days. Her daughter’s father was around and he would render all love and protection. They would go wild teasing, chasing and loving each other and running around the jeep and the hedge nearby. They never felt hunger then. Now, it is a different situation – she has her little kitten to feed. She cannot let her go without food – not even in this downpour. She looked at her. The kitten gave an empty look. She looked up once and sprang out of the shed. The little kitten kept staring at her – mum.

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A Visit!

[Backdrop: I was going through this blog – The Writers Lounge, may be a 20 minutes ago. The very first post was a challenge – asking the blog members to write a story in not more than 400 words about Rain. I found it challenging too. It took me to my old days, when I used to write a page length story in Bengali, for which I got family wide recognition. I thought of giving it a go right away. And here, is the story – of a rainy evening, somewhere in Europe.]

It was raining cats and dogs when I left home. I was hurrying through the drenched streets and making my way to where she lives now. She would be waiting, I knew. She would be getting wet too. I took the raincoat, but forgot the hat – was in such a hurry. Took a bunch of yellow tulips from the florist at the corner; she loves these. I moved nearer to her place. Making my way through the fleeing crowd was toil. I hid the flowers inside the raincoat, hoping they would not get soaked. And I rushed through. Many of the folks had umbrellas. Hush! Why did I not bring mine? – I thought. This small kid, walking with her dog in her lap was trying to get underneath her mother’s umbrella. She was playing hide and seek with the rain and getting drenched – the mother was too hasty to look back at her, as she passed me. Hope they live nearby. The other couple was too busy in each other that they could not see the rushing limousine. And as I thought, the car splashed all the water unto them. They looked at themselves, then the passing car, then at each other and laughed. Weirdoes! They found another excuse to hold each other more tightly. All the people were either walking swiftly towards their destination or running towards a nearby hideout. None had time to look at anyone; neither did I. She was waiting! I hurried faster. I did not have time to enjoy the rainfall. I thought of enjoying the shower together with her. It took me another couple of minutes to be there. I reached her place just in time. I went past her mates in there – they had no visitors. I was the only one there – wet, but happy. I could see the bluish cross – no mistake, it’s her! I went near; sat by her grave. It was all sodden in this evening London rain. I took out the flowers and laid them by her chest. She felt it close to her heart – still thumping as mine. I felt she cried in bliss, that I could make it on her 87th forgotten birthday – even in this downpour. Tears were in my eyes too, but thanks to the raindrops – I went unnoticed.

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