These are the 55-Word-Stories which I posted on the blog for @Vivekisms !!
Happy Reading. :D

She was dancing and chirping all around. Few days, and she will be a bride.
She blushed when they talked about him. And, hushed, when he called.
They demanded something, which the girl's family couldn't provide.
And, the marriage was over.
That day everyone cried,when the GIRL in RED, was no more a BRIDE.

She was desirable. Alas ! Just like a beautiful butterfly, she never knew it.
He met her; fell for her beauty. She loved him even more.
He wanted her body just like a man, wandering in a desert, longs for water.
And, she always thought 'SEXY' was a compliment and smiled.
Very soon, the butterfly was crushed !

She never had friends. She never went out to play.
After all the household chores and duties she is assigned to.
She has a short conversation with the butterflies.
She lays around,wondering about them.
They never complain, never judge her by her clothes.
Quietly they nudge her, brush her with wings. Language of Love !

Siya loved Monsoon. The smell of rains. The feel of it.
She loved him too. They met after months. She was Sixteen.
Empty road. She was scared; not sure if he was the RIGHT one.
And it rained. They hugged. But he wanted something else too.
She denied. He left her crying. ALONE. HURT. Forever.

She was new. She was beautiful too.
The place was tempting. The glasses too.
She came down with a group of friends;
well, she knew only few !!
Maybe, she thought, for the night they would do.
Glasses of wine; oodles of fun.
She forgot her past; that rape attempt.
That party, made her LIVE again.

They met THAT night. The party was lively and everyone was high.
She let him come closer. Hand in hand they danced. The KISS.
Some corner. Some private room. They tease. They bite.
Desperately they fight. Made love that night.
WILD. SMILES. That wicked beast was born.
And, he fell in love, after all.

She wrote her feelings on paper.
They never had conversations.
Just the gaze, and he understood everything she wanted to say.
Love, they were in.
DISTANCE never matter, they thought.
She wrote letters and dropped it secretly near his place.
Soon, he got the letter with tears smudging the words.
DISTANCE, did it, she blamed.

 Few silent steps, few whispers; incomplete conversations
and those laughs. Unexpressed love and some feelings; the story of LOVE.
Misunderstandings. Misinterpretations. Fights. Tears.
One moment of sadness, endless pain.
The blame-game, the sleepless nights.
Texts. Mails. Letters. Vain attempts.
Photographs. Memories. Tears never dried.
Endless phone calls. IGNORANCE. And then, THAT empty bottle. Poison.


 He loved apples. "An apple a day keeps the Doctor away, isn't it mummy??"
and smiled. Happily, he ate those apples daily.
Soon, his love changed. He loved the 'other' APPLE.
All its products. And, forgot his first LOVE. Later, at some PARTY.
Fruit-Salad. Food Poisoning. Death. Love was betrayed. And, Revenge taken.


Rumbling and mumbling voices. Inside and out.
Sometimes mild and beautiful, which people admire.
Sometimes, just too strong and wild for people to handle.
Some drown. Some stare. Some, just walk past.
Some, fear it but live with it. Inseparable from within.
Unstoppable in motion. Some pure, some too toxic to endure.

 It was too hot that day. He packed the bag with books and notebooks.
Put all the stationery; took the water-bottle and rushed downstairs.
"Malkin, baby ka tiffin de dijiye, school jaane ko der ho jayega."
 Carried everything to school, to the class.
"Kaash, main bhi school jaa pataa !"
But, he had to earn. WORK.

PAPER     *This entry has won me goodies. ^.^*

Spotless, it begins its journey. Some scribble, some just leave their
impressions. Some try to erase, but fail.
Some prick it, some make it frail. Some fight, try to own it.
While some, just throw it away. Some get burned and some relive.
Similar are the stories. A fresh paper and a new born's heart !

Life would be changing soon. Arranged marriage.
She loved her dreams, finally living it. She loved coffee.
"One black coffee, please !", and she looked towards the voice.
Mesmerized. Love at first sight.
She waited for the next few days on the same bench. All in vain.
MARRIAGE. Kids. But, the heart was gone; pain remained.

Soft, comfortable and delicate. The care and the fuss. A new born's bed.
Full of toys; it's for the baby boy.
 Giggling and crawling; hurting and crying.
Memories and heartbreaks. Long conversations and tears.
Some drama, some trauma.
Marriage. LOVE. Kids. When tired; when sound asleep.
AGE. Weakness. Some disown, some don't care.
And, Death-Bed.

WATER, minerals and sun; in correct proportion to grow.
Sweat, labor and time; takes all this too.
Grown. Cut. And, the best ones chosen in the sieve.
Grounded and then sold. Spread across; in homes and hotels.
Go through heat and WATER some more.
From tongues to intestines. And, finally come out. Use WATER.

The cries of the women. The agony and pain of some others.
Meera could hear it all. Everyday. All the time.
Screaming, some sobbing.
Mysteriously, she would forget everything that happened every night.
They were killed. Torn. And the blood savoured. The police found.
And, she never understood, who owned her at nights. The ALIEN.

"Chemistry; mystery which nobody knows, once the reaction completes,
the history unfolds." Similar were the stories of Chandan and Sunaina.
Nobody knew why they were always together.
Some doubted they were dating. Some thought they were just flirting.
Little did they know, they were meant to be soul-mates post-DEATH.
Together, with an accident they met.

A label, bouquet of flowers.
Love story blossomed and went high on tide.
The shy smiles, romantic dates and breakfasts at his place.
"Soon to be married", the friends did trace.
Some past, some lies; she deceived, he cried.
They fought, distraught, they parted their ways.
Wrist slit; in morgue, labelled 143 he was brought !

A soon-to-be-mother, dreamt of a daughter.
"I want a boy !!" said the mother-in-law.
She begged. She wasn't ready to abort, like a lioness she fought.
She was hit with belt and rods; miscarriage; the baby-girl was lost.
She was declared mentally dysfunctional and an asylum was sought.
While, for him, a new bride was brought.

She fell in love with the most famous guy from school.
Always had the best of boys. Break-ups followed soon.
Ran away with a man, who promised fame.
Later, she fell in love with all the men who paid her well.
Usual story? Not really !
She wasn't HELPLESS. She was OBSESSED, with MONEY and SEX.

After so many affairs and heart-breaks,
Suhana agreed to an Arranged Marriage.
She tried to understand him, but he remained a mystery.
He was rich and obsessed with uncommon and weird suitcases.
One night, she was gagged, sold and gang-raped throughout the night.
All she could remember; a pink suitcase and a voice so familiar !

'She' was the newest of all. Untouched. Unused. Pure. Destructive.
The owner sold the other ones first. Got good money.
Saved 'her' for future and larger profits. 'She' thought, 'she' was safe.
Harmless. But,'she' had to end a life soon.
Anger. Distrust. Fights. He bought 'her' that night. Used 'her'.
Murder happened. It's POISON.

Raju was seven. Sandhya was nine. She was rich and beautiful.
He worked in the mines. She wished she was free.
Earn, and live on her own. He wished he had time, comfort and less work.
Love. Marriage. Destiny took it's turn. An accident. He lost his leg.
Now, she works instead. Wishes, already granted.

Sometimes life is not easy. Sometimes you're too unsure.
Sometimes you're forced to do things which you totally despise.
But, you have to. "They" tell you, show you beautiful dreams.
You are greedy. Dependent. You work hard. Make yourself worth it.
And then, you're SLAUGHTERED.
Story, so similar. A perfect 'working son' and 'fine LEATHER'.

An unstable mind. Or, maybe not.
Innocence, genius and fear flickering through the head.
He sat on the footpath, in rugged clothes, asking for food and coins
from the passers-by. On the opposite side of the road, was a famous
IIT-Training Institute. He stared absent-mindedly at it.
Not remembering, he once owned it.

College Fest. Shreya met Roshan. She adored him, he lusted for her.
Love, was all she expected. Shreya was a believer.
Roshan was a player. She liked movies, he liked races.
She loved, he abused. She begged, he refused.
She wanted committment, he needed space. He died in an accident.
Pregnant; she died of disgrace.

Pia was cheerful and friendly. Daring but innocent.
No wonder, she had so many friends. One such outing with friends.
Deserted place. She was raped by her so called 'buddies'.
Broken and shaken. Her life seemed to cease.
They blamed her. She locked herself for days. Traumatised.
Life changed. She couldn't even recollect her name.

Tanya met Rohan at a night-club. Dashing. Mouth-watering.
She knew, he was 'it'. She would be 'herself' soon.
A bit of seduction worked. Savoured her last catch.
Bam ! The spell broke. She wasn't a CANNIBLE anymore.
Trrrriiiiiiiinnnnngg !
The alarm went off.
"But, he was delicious !", she grinned.
Virtual games had ruined her, she thought.

It attaches itself to us when we are born.
A loving child, an irritating sibling, a naughty friend,
a possessive partner. Some guardian angels.
Some critics. Doubting husband.
Restrictive parents. Noisy neighbour.
The CRUSH. The Ex. Some have pets.

She feared nights. Sleep, caused her too much of pain.
She could see herself beaten. Felt it. Tied. Tormented. Raped.
That one night, she was burned. She cried and screamed.
Nobody could here. She was asleep, they knew.
She was in her dream.
She was possessed.
She died.
"Coma !", doctors said.
She never came back

Evening walks, hand in hand.
Dinner together. Back to home. It was routine.
One such night. Cornered. Beaten up.
He saw her being assaulted.
She saw him screaming and fighting helplessly.
Newspapers read, "Couple mercilessly slayed."
REASON. They were in love. They belonged to different castes.
In India, crime has many faces.
Casteism, being one.
Some are forever; some aren't meant to be.


  1. very good... i liked all the 5... kitna acha likhte ho...

  2. Great collections........................


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