Short Story: Love is an instinct

Veera Raghavan (Veeru) had dark skin and sharp eyes. Eyes that seemed like they could scathe if stared into. Eyes that sparkled. His hirsutism gave him a particular masculine charm. But he was a slave. He was violent. His violence was welcome as long as as it was directed towards the enemies who dared to break into the walls of his empire, Thandavas.

Veeru's upbringing, like any of his peers', was steeped in loyalty. Loyalty was as natural to him as was his hatred towards the armies of enemies. At the prime of his life, he was the most efficient warrior in his legion. But, he also wanted to find personal happiness apart from the satisfaction that his loyal warrior self bestowed upon him. A youth that he was, he wanted to find the love of his life, a girl whose lineage was of utmost importance and whose loyalty would measure up to his.

Nirmala (Nimmy) was a beautiful girl in the neighboring kingdom, Cowravas, allies of the Thandavas. She was fair and softspoken. Loyal she was, but being a girl, did not have to serve conscription as men in kingdom had to. She was an orphan and her foster parents showered enough love to pamper her. She was a perfect example of a spoilt rich kid. But she was soft within. She was emotional. Though her foster parents were loving and all that, she knew that they had bought her from an orphanage. This was a splinter that kept burning in her mind. She wanted love that was pure and that was not paid for. So, she was looking for someone who would accept her for the rest of her life for who she was.


One day, when Veeru was guarding the boundaries of his empire, he laid eyes on Nimmy. Their eyes locked and the connection was electric. They were lit with love, at first sight. She approached the border between their empires and they played and pranced for a while. A few days flit past and they decided to escalate the matter, Veeru to his king and Nimmy to her parents. The king invited Nimmy's parents over for a dinner, obliging Veeru. The King said, "Veeru is my farourite and is very loyal. He'd make a perfect match for your Nimmy." Nimmy's mom replied, "Yes. We realise the depth of their love and have seen them meet a few times on the border. We thought we'd officially unite their love. My girl is very docile and will perfectly fit the bill. Their horoscopes match too. If you don't have any objection, let's unfetter them."

And so, the king let Veeru go free as Nimmy's parents watched on. Veeru and Nimmy ran towards each other, in slow motion. Like Kamal and Sri Devi. Like Surya and Jyothika. When they came close to each other, Veeru and Nimmy wagged their tails and happy "BowWow"s filled the air.

Love is an instinct. An animal instinct.

This story is inspired from a short story by Jeffery Archer in the book "A Twist in the Tale".

Stand Up: Modern Art

The picture posted above is of the stand-up comedian who changed my fundamental outlook on stand-up from disgust (since most of them have generous vulgarity with umpteen expletives) to finding humour in the simple things in life.

"I have never understood modern art. I mean, what is it? To me it just looks like someone who had a clear picture in mind and starts drawing, half way into the painting gets disgusted at it and throws the rest of the paint and the painting around and then sells it for hundred thousand dollars.

If you're a bad painter and have a bad temper, you'll be a successful modern artist.

And who'd buy modern art? You go to an exhibition and look at all the paintings. Most of them make sense to you - sunrises, forests, kids playing around, fall colours, rivers and all that. But this modern art is one thing that you don't understand and so, you buy it to have it for the rest of your life to figure out what it exactly means...

I have seen people walk by fast at regular paintings and when they get to a modern art they twitch, squint, stand upside-down and then, buy the painting, sometimes having nowhere to hang it since they just sold their houses to buy it..."

Short story: Leftovers?

Disclaimer: Read this story at your own discretion. Children, expectant women and weak-hearted are strongly discouraged from reading this story.

Belgokiler, a 43 year old Belgian man, invited Dumby for a casual dinner party to introduce his stepson, 11 years old, and his wife, 46 years old, to Dumby. The dinner was a grand affair and the guests were delighted by the scrumptious food and wine. Anticipating the guest crowd to heat up the air around the dinner table, Belgoklier had already arranged an alternate place for his family. A place that was cold, freezing cold, away from the bodily warmth and the heat generated by the candles in the dinner table.

After a boisterous dinner, but still not having met his family, Dumby helped Belgokiler pack the leftovers. "Do you have place enough to stuff all of these left overs?", asked Dumby. "Are you kidding me? We, in Belgium, have freezers that can house an entire family, well, almost.", he said. Still feeling a little queasy about not having met his family, Dumby continued to pack the leftovers, now at 43 boxes.

Dumby walked to the freezer to put the boxes and opened the freezer door. Belgokiler rushed to her saying "Mrs. Dumby, meet Mrs. Belgokiler and her son." Dumbfounded, Dumby looked at them and said "Heeelllllooooo. Sooorrryyy yooouuu'rre lalall..lllate".

Curtains.

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That was an inspired short story, inspired from real-life events with the names of characters modified. THAT is spooky!

6-word story

My stabs at it:

Scream. Blood. Crying. Sirens. Stretcher. "CUT".

She cooks. He eats. Room smells.

Last ball. One run. One wicket.

He let go of her hand.

I'm here. Your other two wishes?

Past imperfect. Present continues. Future tense.

Blood splashes. Screams heard. Baby cries.


I'll keep adding as I come up with more. For now, enjoy these.

Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn.") and is said to have called it his best work.