Posts Tagged ‘love’

As he started enticing her, she reminded herself for the last time…  ‘Please don’t think of him’ 

it_hurts_so_bad_by_singsang

She had been married to Rajat for 6 months now. Arranged setup as it was, he was a perfect partner she could get. Quite a handsome piece created by lord, he was rich with perfect blend of brainy genes too. She had liked him at the first hour of their meeting itself.  

It had taken only 2 days for them to decide that they would want to spend their life with each other. He had adored her charm and wittiness, while she had fallen for his mannerism.

He started kissing her neck and she started pretending to be aroused. He unbuttoned himself in haste, and she guided him amidst the complexity of her clothes. At the end, she complimented the act and felt sad within. It had become usual of her.

Their marriage had been a simpler affair, the way she had planned always. With total gathering of 50 close family and friends, both were pronounced husband and wife in the picturesque beauty of Udaipur. Their honeymoon was no less than a fairy tale. Meticulously planned by Rajat, she has had joyful 20 days of her life.

She laid in the bed with broken heart, staring blankly at the ceiling. She could hear her own heartbeat, drumming loudly at the onset of something bad. She could imagine the situation she might face, leaving her married life in shatter. She could calculate the risk she had planned to take, where chances of failure were rather high. But she knew, it had to be done – not for him but for her.

She had skipped her cycle post first month of the marriage itself. She was embarrassed to share it with Rajat. She had waited for another month to be sure. Every pregnancy test had confirmed her about her fear. It was not what she had planned for next 3 years of her marriage. Finally she had decided to take medical help to get rid of the problem.

She dressed herself post the shower. Rajat seemed already asleep. He looked innocent and attractive. She kissed his forehead and decided to leave.

Life had made her meet him yet again, her first love at the doctor’s clinic. All this while, she had never missed him. She had been happy without him. But that day, at the table, he had squeezed her hand rather tightly to help her bear the pain. That day, he had spent whole day with her, caressing her tresses with his fingers while she slept. He was still unmarried. And he still cared for her.

She had decided to live with him for next few days, till the time she recovers. She did not want Rajat to know about her abortion.

She had missed the times she had spent with him, while he had cooked her all her favorites. She had missed the touch of him, while he had ensured her timely medicines and proper rest.

5 days with him at his place had made her realized, how much she still loved him.

She took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. She reconfirmed within self, yes- this is what I want to do now.

2 months of perfect marriage seemed useless to her. The charm she once had for Rajat, looked fake now. She started hating him close. She started hating her situation. And she started hating her practicality.

She would sometimes evaluate her decision of leaving her love. She would sometimes criticize her decision of choosing Rajat. And she would sometimes compare the both, to come to a conclusion.

She rang the bell again. The door clicked. He looked perplexed to see her, at the odd hour of the night.

She knew it was the time.

She had spent months telling herself, the reasons for which she had left the love of her life. She had not liked the outlook he had for the life. She often had disliked his head over heel love for her. And she had not imagined him to be a good for husband kind of a guy.

But after multiple failed attempts to control self, she had finally decided otherwise.

“Please don’t think of him, I reminded myself yet again…While I had another night with my husband… Oh The fake love should now not kill me”

Epilogue –He had requested her to go back, to her perfectly smooth married life. But she has insisted on spending night with him. She had forced herself inside, only to find his girl friend. She had been shocked; it was not what she had expected. He had finally told her to leave, in rather rude tone this time.

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“I ran and ran, ran so fast…but the life I want, and the one I craft… gives me no happiness, as I still starve…Oh the sinful love, oh the sinful need”

loveHe slipped from his bed carefully, trying not to disturb his pretty wife.

Wife looked magical, with just the right amount of moonlight falling on her mane and face.

“It had been 3 days since they had checked in the hotel right next to the river front. His wife had opted for the place to have a romantic stay after 5 years of their wedding. All these years, they both had been crazily working to support themselves and their dreams – own house, car, stature and friends.

Now, their bank balance was as strong as they had ever imagined.”

 

He moved towards the window. He knew that something had waked him up. But he did not know what.

He turned back to see his wife again; tossing her sides, she looked like a baby. How can one be so beautiful and serene? He thought within himself.

“Initial few days of marriage had not been easy. Being an arrange set up, he had been skeptical about his would be partner. His dreams, his priorities and his work, he thought he would need to change them all.

But she was different. She had understood him well, giving him his own space and life. And things had been like always – without change.

He looked through the window – stretched wide, river seemed endless. Moonlight over the surface had made the river look picturesque. He could see trees, aiming high to touch the sky, just like him. He smiled. Possibly, the night had something important for him.

“It was the first time when they had planned a holiday for themselves, post the ‘compulsorily’ honeymoon package. Wife had spent (nearly wasted) a week in getting the perfect look for the outing- shoes, clothes and makeup. She had even placed her first kiss on his cheek, publicly in excitement. 

They both had traveled by road, towards east, away from the usual commercialized 5 star set-ups. A small hotel near the village had attracted his wife’s fancy, facing the mighty Ganges.”

He sat at the corner of the bed, near her feet. It seemed that each part of her body had been meticulously carved out by the lord himself. Feet accessorized with toe-ring and silver anklet looked perfect.

He wanted to keep looking at her, from a distance without disturbing her sleep. Though, part of him desperately wanted to touch the pearl body and enjoy the warmth together.

He stood to take a stroll to let the feeling fade.

He went near the window again. The river and the trees looked same. Nothing had changed in these few minutes, he thought, like his unchanged life in these 5 years.

Yes, nothing had actually changed.

He still did not know what his wife wanted. He still was clueless, what his wife loved. He still was new, to the marital pleasures.

The truth was harsh.

He became uneasy. He had spent 5 years with a beautiful girl, untouched.

The fact that he wanted to focus on his career and self had actually stolen some ‘addictive’ pleasure of life. He regretted being so naive to let it go.

Part of him started becoming angry.

It looked, with every passing second; his self retrospection was clearly dividing him into two.

One part was angry. Angry at everyone – his wife-who was smart enough to understand his wish to succeed, his family-who forced him into the marriage and self-who ignored the beautiful sculpture in his life. The other part was just sleepy, adding ‘really nothing’ to his emotions.

His wife had always been workaholic like him. He had noticed her dedication and commitment. She often have had ‘sleepless’ nights during her submissions. He had always appreciated and respected her for this. She was an independent individual with her own life.

And he was only a part of it. He had liked this fact – ‘not to be the world to his wife’

At the third night after their wedding, he had puked his mind – his want to become ‘big’, his dream to earn ‘a lot’ and his need to be ‘single’. His wife had just stared at him for few minutes before she confirmed-‘Understood’.

Post that, they had been singles, literally singles. Living under the same room, they were only good friends.

He knew that he had not been fair to her. He knew that he had not been fair to himself. And he knew that the ‘thinking’ was making him sick.

Wife had once told him, how much she loved the idea of love. He had then laughed off and excused himself for work.

He assumed, perhaps, the night was an indication for him to know his loss. He assumed, perhaps, the night was a mirror for him to know his needs. And he assumed, perhaps, the night was nothing but a knock of truth.

His assumptions made him confident. His assumptions made him lighter. And his assumptions made him happier.

It was morning already.

Rays had started filling the room, making it warmer inside. He looked at his wife. He knew, It was time for her to embrace the day and him.

 “Is it a need or my love, I don’t know… I crave for her and her untouched glow

It is time to have a broken fast, for she is only one now I want at last”

 

EPILOGUE: “That day when I got up, I saw him sitting on his knees. He had a strange look in his eyes. I think I knew that look. I think I have seen it before, when he had offered me a lift to my office. I have seen that look when he had taken me to a doctor and have fought at the reception. I know I have seen that look when he had criticized me shopping for days for that trip.

And I said before he could speak – ‘Understood, like always’ “

The day which is scheduled for 14th February every year, attracts many wanted and unwanted attention. While many of us get excited of knowing that it is coming, rest of the world feel depressed for the same reasons.

The excited ones- go out to buy the prettiest red dress, the sexiest red tie, hit Google for gifting options and do reservations, though the rest of the world, succumb themselves only to blame work for no outings.

Either ways, the day is worth the wait and fun to experience.

However, over the years, the day had been revamping itself. While it all started with expressing love and gifting roses and chocolates to the one you love, our gen-next has taken a step ahead to define the day.

The new generation is techie, impatient and often lazy – searching for something which saves time and energy. They are not too emotionally attached, and don’t mind shifting to next prospects. They take love with rather a pinch of salt. For them, the day is another excuse to ask for dates.

While the ‘no strings attached relationships’ mantra is becoming the ‘big thing’, there are many who still sail on the love seas. For them, the love day is everything they live for.

So to help both- the fast forward generation as well as the love birds to buy some nice gifts for the day, we have few smart options for the different type of lovers on the block à

  • If your love of the life is ‘tech-maniac’ – these people are majorly honours in technology. They breathe, live and eat only to know which gadget would be launched next. Their life revolves around singing goodnight jingles over phone for you and telling you about the hottest tech-pad they aspire. Well, these are the expensive of the lots. While their choice of gifts would range anything from I-pad to smart watches to X-boxes, we suggest you to look for customization within the limited choice you have in your budget. You can gift covers for their gadgets engraved with their names along with yours or you could get the back of the gadget printed with the picture of you together.
  • When you know your love is a ‘day-dreamer’ – if your lover is a day dreamer, trust you have hit a jackpot. They are sweet people, who would prefer to date you in their thoughts rather than forcing you to buy an expensive gift for the day. Their idea of love is to have you by their side and discuss their unlimited future plans. A smallest of a teddy bear over the candle light dinner makes them elated. For the male day-dreamers, we suggest a day well spent in your nicest of the dress to make you look cute and happy.
  • If the better half is too smart and creative – a tough one to handle, you rather need to plan ahead for the day to make them special. They know you in and out, plus the creativity zeal in them often depresses you about the gifts you should give. Take a deep breath and stop competing in their creativity. It will be hard to beat them. The simplest ideas could range from looking for something they had never done to may be an adventure sport option or planning a treasure hunt for the things they love.
  • Only if it’s your first valentine with her/him – a word of caution- don’t do Bolly-wood in front of them! They don’t want you to be romantic and go crazy booking tables at the most expensive restaurants, all they want is you right now. So discuss and plan the day together- girls would rather enjoy getting dressed in your favourite clothes while guys might love you for managing whole day for them.
  • Suggested for ‘love at first sight’ – these are like emergency situations, cupid has just thought to strike your chords. Don’t plan anything. Safest option is to stick to traditional flowers and chocolates in a heart shaped box!
  • If your love is already celebrating its silver jubilee– when you know that you both are born, lived and also ageing together. They rule your heart, mind and soul now, and you don’t remember the last time you dated someone else. Your love is complaining about the tasteless food and fighting over petty issues. The most romantic gift you can give them is the glimpse of memory lane. It could be as simple as gifting them an album of memories with short notes to as complicated as making a movie on your love life together.
  • Hooked and booked conditions – if you are still enjoying your courtship period with your love or are newly-wed couple, planning a mini-picnic or trip is not a bad idea. You could also gift diamonds and accessories to add oomph to the new love.
  • If you are single and ready to mingle – If the cupid has not aimed his arrow at you yet, but you are dying to get attacked soon – this is one for you. Buy something for yourself; you would have otherwise loved your partner to gift you. Use it the same day and spend the time of singlehood with yourself. Drink coffee and eat pastry, go on for a bike ride and wear the prettiest colour you like. Do things for yourself, this could be the last year to love and pamper yourself like you do at present. And you never know, the chirpy you on V-day is the only way to find your love

All we want to suggest you is that, no matter what you gift and what you do, just enjoy the ride to the unknown destination!

The wait

Posted: November 20, 2014 in Fiction
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Dated: dd/mm/yy

Titled : THE  WAIT

I am really weird. Trust me, sometimes, weird is even an understatement.

I see her every day.

Every day, I see her sitting from my window.  It is around 12 noon, that she is visible to me. I see her in different colours. Sometimes, she shines in her white dress with red flowers neatly embroidered over her petite neck. She never ignores me, for the weirdo that I am.

I see her smooth legs, her flawless skin, and then at me. Dirty. Yes, I am dirty. I have not used my bathroom since long. My clothes are shabby unlike hers. My shirt has turned dark brown with the dust it has accumulated over the years. I have pricked nails, longer than usual nose and wrinkled head.

But you know what, I don’t care.

I know she loves me, that is why she sits in my garden, a garden which by no means is attractive. Only an oak tree stands there, all alone like me, shabby, wrinkled and old. It has grown older with me in this house, almost 70 years now.

I have nothing special to boast about. My possessions are confined to the oak tree, in front of the window where I stand, this house- which needs repair and her. She is priceless.

She smiles at the sparrow which is sharing the bench with her. They both look similar in skin to me. Both are golden and they both shine. She often turns at the window and smile, perhaps at me.

It is 4’o clock. My stomach churns without food. But I don’t want to leave her. She will be gone like every day.  She does not like me going out of sight. She gets hurt.

Yesterday, I had to attend the nature’s call. And when I returned to the window, she was gone. I could no longer see her. I was sad.

Today, I had decided not to eat. This prevents any disturbance.

I am so elated, she is still there smiling and appreciating my eroded garden. I will definitely work on it from tomorrow for her, obviously. A beautiful girl in my beautiful garden, I would call then. I am dreaming.

Where is the girl? Am I losing sight in the growing dark? Let me switch on the lights.

No, she is not there. She is gone. Like yesterday, like day before yesterday and like 20 years ago. She has been doing the same with me. 20 years, and she still don’t praise my love for her.

I will not wait for her from tomorrow. I return to my room. I see her photo. Her picture is standing between the books kept for the support.
My hands are shaking, I feel weak. I take the support of the broken chair. I think I have just fallen down. It looks like history will repeat itself.

20 years ago, she had fallen from a chair and her head got hurt. I saw blood everywhere around her. People cried telling me to have patience, saying she is dead. Complete fools. She was never dead. She had always been with me. 20 years, every day, without fail. I have seen her sitting like always, in the garden. She has always spoken with her eyes, like always. I have tried telling my son. He thought I am mad and left me one day.

But I am not alone.

But it hurts in the head. I got hurt. The chair is broken and it did not support me. I am wondering, is there blood around me too? Wish, someone could see me lying here and would cry.

I think I will be like her after this pain is gone. I will also be neat, shiny and full of youth. I will also not grow old for another 20 years like her.

I think this thing, which people call death, is not too bad.  I can feel myself smiling. It is growing dark around; i think my eyes are shutting down too.

I am still thinking, will we sit in the garden together then? I have never touched her in these 20 years. May be, this is a chance to feel her again. May be, this is a chance to know her again…May be, it is a chance to… love her again.

…Pain is going…I… I think… I …am ….losing…words… should… call …son… it…Is …hard to …brea…the…

Leave… it…. she… I see… it… not day… still….. She is talking… taking me…

Signed : ____________________

 

“They both sit in the garden every day. He would just glance at her like he used to do at the window. She would smile, often shying away from his stare. They both look as fresh as daisy. He is not shabby. The oak tree still stands there. They feed sparrows together. They sometimes, see their own son standing at the window, looking blankly at them. They wish, he could be able to see them together, happy and enjoying. But all they see him, regretful and sad.”

 

An escape

Posted: October 22, 2014 in Fiction
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‘There is something in this air, which makes her crappy… no matter what, she doesn’t wish anymore to be happy’

She slowly opened her eyes, it seemed dark around. Her hands involuntarily searched for her phone.

It was only 3:00am. Too early to get up and start working, she thought.  She looked at her side, he was not there. It was not a work hour for him either. She decided to stroll inside the house to find him.

After useless searching and calling on his phone, she climbed her bed and slept again.

It has become a daily ritual for her. Even after 6 months of their separation, her heart still longed for him. She often had called him during odd hours, trying to talk to him for the last time. She often had rung his friends, trying to get in contact with him for the last time. She had even hacked his social page, trying to find a part of him for the last time.

She woke up when her clock stuck 7.00am. Wearing a torn lemon colored Saree, her body appeared heavy to her when she stepped into the Kitchen. The place looked untouched. She had hardly cooked for herself all these days. Breakfast had been confined to a cup of tea, followed by a bread piece as lunch and water in dinner. Her skin had lost the charm and jasmine fragrance it possessed; her hair had forever turned into dead dry grasses and her voice had been reduced to a murmur of a cat.

She decided to change the menu for the day. She searched for some chickpeas and washed them under water. She told her maid to bring some sweets and spices. She hastily boiled potatoes and grinned mint to make sauce. It seemed that her mind had chosen not to react. It seemed that her body had taken over the controls over her heart. She cooked a 3 course meal and felt elated.

After 2 hours of continuous cooking and sweat, she settled down in the couch next to his picture. The enthusiasm that prevailed during cooking had suddenly reduced to mere unease. She lovingly caressed his face with her index finger. Standing near a Palm tree, he looked handsome. She stared at him for a while, trying to question his absence.  He seemed least bothered. He still stood there, holding the tree hard and smiling at her.

Her life had been confined to him ever since his entrance into her life. She would wake him up, cook for him and would love him day and night. She would often try to be over-possessive with him. They both would discuss things till dawn and would sleep together during day light. He had been her only hope of life.

After his new job, things had been different. He hardly had time for her. He was never home before midnight. He had started keeping secrets.  He often was found talking to some strangers and he had started maintaining distance from her.

It had been hurting. She had tried spying on his phone to find woman in his life. She had tried asking him about his life. She had also tried to become a friend to him. But everything had made him more indifferent.

It had been hours that she had been sitting staring his picture and weeping hard. Her face had swelled up to show her remorse, her eyes looked like bitten by some insect and her nose seemed to have caught cold.

He had once decided to go for outing without her knowledge. Like always she had waited for him over dinner table till midnight. That day, she had tried reaching him thrice. That day, she had suspected something not nice. That day, she had heard loud distant cries.

Next morning, a phone call had told them the story. He was hit hard by a speedy lorry. He was taken to the hospital by some unknown, where he no longer breathed any more.

That day, she had known, he was never coming home. That day, she had known, he had left her all alone. That day, she had even known, her only son was far gone.

She tried consoling herself. Battling with her emotions, she kept his picture back. She could hear her husband’s sound. He had been sleeping all during the morning. She had not tried to wake him up and disturb his rare sleep occasion.

She washed her face to pretend normal. She changed herself into another Saree and called him for brunch.

She stood feebly beside her husband, both staring the food. Even though the meal looked beautiful, their taste buds denied tasting it. Even though the meal was untouched, their stomach denied having more. Even though the meal seemed necessary, their mind declined the thought.

They both ignore the table laden with cooking and parted their ways to their own rooms.

They waited for rays to fade away and bring back dark night- for it was an easy escape from the reality of life.

 ‘She cried even louder, recalling that day – when she had lost her only son on the way

Oh God, she often pray, an escape from the life and end to the play’

 

‘No I am not going to bear all this, I don’t like it and you should now realize this’ She screamed at him on top of her voice.

It seemed she had been trying hard to push him too out of her life, and with every try, she had added a strange strength in her voice all these days. She was a changed human. Her delicate cotton saris with pearl necklaces were replaced with tight fitted pants and deep necked tops, her favorite fennel seeds were no longer visible in the smoke her mouth enjoyed and the dark kohl had lost its pride of showing her beauty.

She dragged him out with her full force and tried to throw his half dead body in the pool. He was almost saved. He could see the rage in her eyes. He could see the unease she had. He could see her confusion right there at her face.

He smiled recollecting his strength, almost laughed at the helplessness she portrayed.

He had seen her last month in a Bar, smoking cigar and happily gulping pints of beer alone. He was amused to see her leaving the bar in her full elegant sense. It was fascinating, he had thought then. 

She picked her scarf from the cupboard and forced it into her hand bag. It was already full. She glanced at the room for a while and tiptoed towards the main gate. She knew, the room and the house no longer belonged to her.

He had met her at a public party again. She had been with people, dancing at the beats and swooning around when she had bumped into his friend. He and friend had made her drink lemons to bring back her normal self. She had been thankful and had winked at him. He, almost lost in her bold beauty by then, had decided to be with her.

He tried calling her again. It was 4 hours already after their fight. She was nowhere. He had called her friends, whom he knew. He had even strolled out to get a sight of her somewhere. But she was not there.

This was not a first fight for him. In a 2 week of togetherness, she had jolted him more than thrice when he had tried to touch her soft knuckles, She had screamed at him more than hundred times when he had tried to be little nice with her and she had (almost) had him beaten to half dead when he had tried to be a love to her. It was strange, he knew. But there was something about her which made him ignore her actions, there was (definitely) a soft side of her which made him love her and there was (may be) an attraction towards her which had made him addicted.

He heard her steps, she was back. He could sense his own winning smile. He cleared the shave box, his wallet, and the ties, some of his favourite pants and few of his perfumes from the bed. He knew, the things thrown by her during fight should not be seen. He washed his face, cleaning the blood stains carefully and brushed his teeth. He also opted to go for mouth face again.

He was sitting upright, reading his book when she entered into the room. While she tried to look normal, he had his usual loving smile.

She had been a woman with a rich husband 4 years back. Her family and his love had defined her life then. There weekdays were fun and weekends spent romantically. Her round red Bindi and cotton saris were hit of her life. She had known people had been envious about her luck and she ignored haughtily.

However, everything was short lived. Her husband had been found with another woman one night. The woman wore blouses showing cleavage and skirts short enough to show her thighs. She had been devastated. She had decided to leave him and start fresh.

She brought herself near to him. He still seemed busy in his book. She stared at the marks on his face and tried to touch them. He still ignored. She tried to hug him tight, though it seemed he did not care.

After the marriage failure, she had been a directionless woman. She had opted for a fashion similar to the woman she saw, she had become a person similar to the man she married and she had voted for a life she had always disapproved. The new She was bold and selfish, the new She was rude and snobbish and the new She was lifeless and bore.

She had seen him at the bar that night though she walked ignoring him. He had been staring at her with his loving eyes. They met again at a party when she had lost herself to the extra drinks someone paid for her. He had been caring and funny. He had proposed her a new relation to which she had agreed.

She had shifted to the house 2 weeks back. Things were different. His bed had new florescent colour sheets unlike her fondness for green pastel. He had a gym in the space where she would have preferred a garden.  His cupboard looked organized unlike her husband. And he, he was more romantic and tempting than she had thought.

He had proposed her that night. She had been violent then. Her past had made her believe in ‘no love’ life. She had strained herself thinking about the future. He knew nothing about her, yet he loved her. It had suffocated her. She had thrown the things he owned, making him bleed through his head and nose. She had tried being criminal with him, dragging him to the pool. At last, she had left unsaid to think aloud.

She tried kissing him hard; pushing aside the book he was trying to concentrate. She tried getting him near, pulling his collar from her hand. He smiled and let her have her way. The room witnessed the flare. The walls who had no sheen, witnessed the love. And the woman who had once lost her way, found herself.

A night Alone

Posted: September 19, 2014 in Fiction
Tags: , , , , , ,

She cuddled around her own breast, pretending not to be seen in the darkest night of her life. Amidst the silence of her own breathing, she could hear everything loud and clear. A dog seemed to bark 2 lanes away from her. Someone on a bicycle had just collided and laughed at a distant. Watchman had tried to light his lantern hard, failing to which he had retorted in irritation.

The white linen sheet tightly wrapped around her body seemed waste on the purpose. It seemed the eyes searching to get hold of her would find her easily.

She gulped some air from her mouth, to avoid snorting from her nose. It was becoming difficult for her to pretend dead, when her body still demanded fresh air and light.

It had been a Saturday night, when she had decided to sleep all alone. She had told herself a story and had laughed off the obvious remarks made by the author. She had happily called her friends and had slept late. She had enjoyed the freedom of having no company.

She stared at her nails. Painted yellow and black with round edges, they seemed inappropriate to her. She decided to replace the black with orange, to make it look more vibrant and correct.

After giving it a good thought, she decided to peep outside the white sheet cocoon created by her. Obviously, there was nothing to be afraid of, she had thought.

She had always shared the bed with her sister. Being a middle class born, she never has had the luxury to own her own room. She had complained often about it, though her parents had ignored her howling.  She had tried seeking her sister’s support, but she was too young to understand the word ‘freedom’.

A week ago, her parents had decided to visit their old relatives with her younger sister. She had been overjoyed at the news. It was her chance to own the room and the house. It was an opportunity for her to call her friends and be the host. It was a dream for her to live and cherish.

She carefully exposed her nose out of the sheet, breathing impatiently. She waited for some reaction. It seemed, no one had noticed the bulging from the sheet. It was the turn of her entire face. Her eyes chose to shut tight while she uncovered her face. She counted till 10 before the eyes could gather courage to see the dark room around.

Oh yes, there was no one, she comforted herself.

Her aunt had been her companion in the parent’s absence, though she had managed to convince aunt for a night alone. Her aunt had been sceptical earlier but had granted her wish for that night. She had made her close the doors properly and had added her number on speed dial in case of emergency. She had checked the security system of the house and had warned the watchman to be careful before leaving.

 Her aunt had ensured every possible protection for her, but it all went into vain.

It was her aunt who could help her in the situation of trouble, she thought. She searched her phone under the pillow, moving her hands in and out of the pillow cover hurriedly. She could feel the device’s shape and weight, but it seemed her hands had lost their way.

After a useless fight with her pillow, she got hold of her dear device.

She had slept peacefully post her hours of enjoyment alone. She had decorated her room with pillows and flowers- to hug them while she slept on the scent. She had kept the television on- to keep her company while she occupied the bed alone. She had also worn her gold chain with embedded lord – to keep her safe while she dreamt evils and fight them off.

It had been 3:00 am in the morning when she had dreamt like usual. The story on black magic and evils came live to her. The witch had ripped off her parts and had cooked to serve her daughters. The lord around her neck seemed sleeping while the daughters enjoyed her bone and skin. She could see the witch laugh and chant. A black painted idol showered blood and the room smelled dead. She felt nauseated.

She had not slept post the dream. Even her breathing sound made her worry. She knew it was not for real, but she could still smell the blood and flesh around. She had missed her family and aunt.

After the call with her aunt, she felt nice.

She turned herself towards the window which she earlier had mistreated; the light rays were filling her room – reflecting the petals of the flowers in her direction.

She patted the back of her head and smiled. The Night Alone with witches appeared funny and light.

“A strange way of life, a dream scares in the dark noise-free night …while the same when recalled in day, bring a wide care-free smile”