UBC 24: Crazy Romance, cuddling hearts and harmless flirting

I am back with romance. This new post, ‘Crazy Romance, cuddling hearts and harmless flirting’ starting tonight is a series of romance stories written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for The Daily Chatter on Day 24.

UBC 24: ‘Crazy Romance, cuddling hearts and harmless flirting’ (Part One)

Ayesha hit the keyboard in frustration and her voice grew shrill, argh! No, it ain’t happening. It’s writer’s block. She felt divvy. Sunset has crept. Her stormy brain hit the waves crashing at the back of her mind. The rom-com that she is writing is stuck like the old gramophone. It’s time to un-spool the ideas and roll things out.

Perhaps, mindless distractions would do, she reasoned.  The draft was jettisoned away. Ayesha googled randomly…Facebook, Ok Cupid, Twitter, Truly Madly, OK Cupid, Desi Crush, Badoo and OK Cupid flashing open on the laptop screen. Facebook! It’s so drab like Chinese Diwali crackers! Not! Twitter! 140 words bird…Kabutar Jaa! Scrap! Truly Madly! Not OK Cupid! Desi Crush…I hate No Man’s Land! The whole world of Tinder hitting everything that moves! Badoo! Cool coz imma Bad Girl.

The names that lit up her screen were quite intriguing and despo for some scene…Ladiescoupe, he-manforstarvedkudi, readingyourlip, gigoloskore. She wondered, ‘Many would make good condom ads on Badoobam’. In a span of seconds, she was amazed at the dozens messages that wanna swoon her for hire as if she was some runaway bride from her own wedding. Wanna do bingee jumping with you, I shall take you to the moon, I steal hearts!

So musty and schtick, she wanna rant and insult. Hey, that’s one interesting dude for timepass, gigoloskore.

GIGOLOSKORE: Hey mystic girl! I love weed  and a hermit.


GIGOLOSKORE: I stay in your heart. Wanna try me out? M hot as hell

MYSTIC Girl: Suffocated. Are you Lord Indra, burning in fire. I prefer water. It’s heat not hot. Check the temperature


MYSTIC Girl: haha You mean Katrina Kaif. The cat is outta the bag

GIGOLOSKORE:  You are Cinderella! I am Knight in Shining Armor

MYSTIC Girl: Night is boring. I am a daytime binge drinker

GIGOLOSKORE: You like beer. I thought you like water.

MYSTIC Girl: THOT! You Scattindergun!

GIGOLOSKORE: You into rocket science? I am a keen student. Teach me the basics. Imma good student

MYSTIC GIRL: Are you a condom brand?

GIGOLOSKORE: I am a one woman gigolo. Spiderman.

MYSTIC GIRL: I am Bandit Queen


GIGOLOSKORE: I am an astrologer. Gimme your number? I shall tell your stars!

MYSTIC GIRL: Despo! I am running away.

GIGOLOSKORE: Chura ke daman kyon jaa rahi ho?

MYSTIC Girl: I am just tying my Pallu. Not Churao Daman.

Ayesha was playing Catch Me if You Can. How about playing hard to get, she smirked triumphantly. Gigoloskore is not typing. Maybe, his one-liners have gone for a toss or it’s a story dead in the embryo. Am I mean na? she laughed.

Pop! The message burst through the screen and she almost leaped with joy. “He’s quite an interesting dude,” she guffawed.

“Take me for hire. Day and Night service in Mumbai. Your light is on!”

MYSTIC Girl: Are you a terrorist?

GIGOLO SKORE: I am Manjhi-The Mountain Man

MYSTIC GIRL: haha!!! 982265****

UBC 23: Moonlight strike (3)


This post, ‘Moonlight Strike is the third and final part of the love story between a ghost and human, written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge and Blog Chatter in October. I am writing short stories for 31 days.

Read Part 1, The Ouija Girl, Part 2, Ghostly Girl at Translucent Night.

UBC 23: Moonlight Strike (Part Three)

They stood alone in the huge forests where the moon, skies, stars merged in the dark lingering night. Screechy noises and mewl slowly waned away as the moon faded behind the huge trees.

“Let’s party,” the ghost said. Aditya lashed his tongue out in disbelief.  “Wah wah! First, this tiger scared the shit outta me in the forest and now a ghost wanna party like a wild animal. Hope your tigers don’t follow us to save you from us, humans. I feel like a jock kinda terrified boyfriend of a female ghost,” he shrugged.

They waded their way inside the disc in the night like invisible shadows walking past the security standing stoic like statues in front of the huge door and gyrated their bodies to the foot tapping number, ‘Party with the Bhootnath’ that ushered a sense of eeriness to the clubbers. The ghost feet dangled in the air and Aditya felt a huge force cuddling and stiffly pressing his broad shoulders. It was a warm and tight hug. A sensation ran through his body like current, with light fingers tearing through his shirt and pricking his skin.

The crowd sniggered at the weird and outta place fellow hugging himself tightly and tickling his skin, covering the unchartered body zones. He whispered to her, “Stop it. People think that I have gone mad and can beat me black and blue for indecency. Let me kiss you, at least.”

She grinned slyly, “You are no Edward Cullens and I am not Bella playing New Moon. We cannot run havoc here but we can scare the shit outta them for looking at the not-so-obvious.” She winked. At this moment, Aditya’s feet were not touching the air and the young hop crowd of men and women freaked out. They almost shrieked in fear when a power emasculated their voice which stood paralysed for few seconds.  Both of them disappeared out of thin air.

They lay on the white bed in Aditya’s flat looking into each other’s eyes. She popped the question, “I think that I will make love to you but promise that you have to do an important work for me.”  He was bemused. She grabbed his face, kissed him, swirled her tongue and licked his mouth. His lip became swollen with such intensity. “What Aditya? You are making me break my promise of not making love to a human.”

He asked the dumbest question, “How can we fuck with your clothes on?” The ghost smirked, “You forget my sweet lover that I am a ghost and not a human like you. I will be half human and you are already half ghost.

Their bodies oscillated and dangled in the air, feeling the force inside them, floating like fish in water.

She rested her head on his shoulder, “Today, I have decided to tell you my story, something that you need to know. Everyone believed that I committed suicide but my husband blindfolded me on the pretence of a surprise and pushed  away from the balcony on the 12th floor. He disguised it as suicide and bought false witnesses with my money.  My human name was Meenakshi. I worshipped and trusted him blindly. He was after my money. We were the perfect couple but he slept with other women behind my back. My body is still lying in the basement. I want to teach him a lesson. I learned about his crime when my soul hovered inside the house.”

Aditya was shocked and his eyes welled.  A man dressed in dark blue suit slouched on the couch and was drunk inside the spacious and luxurious living room adorned with the luxury of the world.  He was intoxicated by the wealth surrounding him. Aditya sauntered inside and without losing a second, slapped Meenakshi’s husband, “Why did you kill her?” The man fell down and yelled, “Security! How did you come inside?”

Aditya rolled in laughter, “I love her. She is here. No one will hear your voice.” The man was shocked and yelled for help but his voice was blocked by the walls. He asked in fear, “What do you want? Do you think I am scared of a college going kid pretending to be in love with my dead wife?  You don’t know who I am. I will finish you”

The ghost of Meenakshi whispered something inside Aditya’s ears. “You will kill me! I will finish you. Game over, Sir. You have kept her body in the basement and a trove worth gold is hidden inside a hole you dug inside the house. We want justice for Meenakshi. She wants you to confess your crime on camera. Everything, you swine,” Aditya brandished a gun and hit him on the forehead.

Slaps in the air were heard. The man yelled and begged for forgiveness as an invisible force flung his body to the wall. A voice shrieked and tears of blood dropped on the floor.

“Why did you do this to me, Anil?  I have loved you for ten years, covering up every mistake of yours. What did I get in return? You cheated me with every woman in town. The man stammered, “Please forgive me. I did it for your wealth.”

The shocked husband had no choice but confessed his crime on camera how he plotted and killed his wife. The ghost held Aditya’s hand and ushered him inside the basement where he dug her body. The lifeless body was finally burnt with the religious rites.

The ghost gently stroked his lip. “Adi, I am liberating you from the world of ghost. I never thought that we will find each other and fall in love. My soul is free now.”

He wouldn’t let her go, “You have no right to go away from me.  So what, you are not human? My soul belongs to you. I will not be able to see or touch you.”

“Who says so? I will come and meet you. We will make love in the open air and dance in the pub tomorrow to celebrate our victory. I am dead to the world not to you. Remember, you have ghostly power, you human. Our love is eternal.” They embraced each other.

The next day, Aditya woke up and read the newspaper headlines, “City shocked. Businessman confessed on video of killing wife ten years ago. Body kept in the basement for a decade.  He has been arrested and liable to life-long sentence.”

He smiled and closed his eyes. Someone whispered in his ears, “Adi! We won.” He turned around and embraced her. Meenakshi is present in every moment of her Adi’s life.



UBC 22: Ghostly love at translucent night (2)

This post is written on Day 22 as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge and written for The Blog Chatter. It’s the second outing for the spooky tales, ‘The Ouija Girl’ and this we call it, ‘Ghostly love at translucent night (2). I am weaving short stories for the entire month of October.


‘Ghostly love at translucent night’ (Part Two)

The body lay stiff and motionless on the floor, twitched with slow breathing. The human fingers moved slowly where the chest intermittently pushes its might up and down.  The eyes slowly opened. Light swiftly traveled through the semi-conscious body that sprung to life. Aditya got up with pain and walked clumsily inside the house. He almost puked at the stench smell of stinking corpses.

He curled his eyes and was horrified to see there was not an inch of space and the disoriented man walked on top of dead corpses. White shadows lurked behind him, danced to drum beats and surrounded him forming a circle of flames.  The concrete wall inside the house has turned into steam and the rooms took the shape of ice cubes. His skinned body is frozen to death. The roof is decrepit, falling apart and electric wires hanging like sword beneath his head.

Aditya howled in fear at the sight of dead bodies and ghosts doing the trance dance. He banged his fist on the wall but felt no pain. His hand traveled inside the wall like the fluid body movement swimming in the salted sea water. His voice was choked and paralyzed. A pair of hand pressed his neck and strangulating him to death.

Shroud of lighting struck the pigeons who flew off the perch-the burnt wooden window pane and squeaked their way to some far off destination. A crimson white and translucent face burst through like light feather. Her face shone brightly. She looked like a painter’s muse, wearing a mythical expression, blue eyes and a face made of pastry cream. She was a creature that cannot be touched but admired from a distance for the fear of being burnt in hell. She came straight from an alien world.

Aditya’s hands trembled watching the love of her life taking this mysterious form. She was no longer the perfectly sweet girl that appeared in his dreams. He stammered, “What is that?” She gently touched his head, “Don’t worry, love. It’s the same life. It’s your house. You have been transformed. You forgot, lover boy? Your love is not human. I am mistress of the invisible world. You don’t belong to this world. Light has traveled inside your body. No bullet will harm you. You are human yet belong to us, the universe of souls which your people call ghosts.”

He sweated and removed his handkerchief which swung in the air and fluttered but wouldn’t touch his face as if under a spell.  Aditya and his muse swiveled to become one. Two souls interchanging bodies and levitating in the air, they grew like a balloon that doesn’t seem to burst at any time. Aditya muttered something under his breath.

“You wanna make me your eternal slave and I am ready to become your doormat forever,” the lovelorn boy said. The fear has disappeared. The ghost lover looked with intensity, “How I wished we could kiss and make passionate love. But, I am made of light and have no human flesh!” She mocked him, “You are already my eternal lover, not a slave. I don’t need to make you anything. Lovers become everything, this world or the invisible universe.” He stayed silence and wondered, what’s the point of becoming lovers if they cannot make love?”

The ghost sprayed snow inside the decrepit house which is turned into Aditya’s old flat with all the amenities and the white flake scattered till the door’s entrance. “It’s for your security, my love. Don’t step out till I come back.” He tried to walk past the snow which erupted into fire. He is horrified, “What was that?”

She placidly said, “It’s the Lakshman Rekha.” He fumed, “Yeah, as if I am some fucking new age Sita and the Raavans’ of the world will abduct me to blow fire under my ass.”  The ghost disappeared out of the window.

In a span of hours, she erupted inside and sniffed chemical powder by lashing her tongue out on a metal. Aditya was amazed and blurted out, “So, the ghost knows the H2 0 combine. I am weak in Chemistry. Why don’t you scare my stupid lecturers and take my exams.”

She is amused, “It’s just that I am a very ethical ghost. Come with me. Let’s go.” The ghost flapped her fangs and Aditya climbed on the light feathers traveling the forests and hunched past the mountains to land in a deserted space. Angry howl was heard hunting for prey and sniffed the stranger human flesh in the dark. The human soul in him almost fainted, his heart beating fast and face contorted to see around before spinning his legs to run super fast.

The roar of the lion, faint toes curled and cramped in front of the guest, menacing eyes stoked fear in Aditya. He started running for his life and the tiger trailed him within distance ready to pounce on him.  The tiger thrust its might on him when he stopped like a robot. A familiar plonk was heard by the tiger. Aditya exuded a momentary sign of relief. He ran out of breath. A tigress stood in front of Aditya to protect him from harm. The fiery guardian of the forest crawled away from them.

Luminescent eyes turned bright like lightning as the tigress roared and thundered claws turned into golden eyes. “I turned into a tigress ghost,” she said.

UBC 21: The Ouija girl

The post is written for the UBC and The Blog Chatter where I am sketching short stories, book reviews and interviews for 31 days in the month of October. Today is Day 21: The Ouija girl.

The Ouija girl

The black and white huge Ouija board was spread on the marbled floor in the middle of the night inside the studio apartment. A gentle breeze blew and cold sensation flew inside the house. The night was still and gentle where the only voices that broke the stillness were stray dogs barking ferociously as if a stranger has been spotted. Screeching sounds! Hushed steps, curtain rolling in length and swirling its way to touch the white azure sky.

The planchette tumbled and moved as if the windy storm pushed it inching from the right to the left side. The few coins spread on the board clinked as they touched four letter words, L O V E. The three college students were thrilled and felt a chill down the spine as the chirpy Disha asked, “So tell us, friend, when did you die?”

The board didn’t move an ounce and the white curtain flew and made a knot. The silent night became vibrant as the wallpaper tore into tiny pieces landing on the letters 2 0 0 6. The three of them, Disha, Aditya and Shankar looked at each other in fright and their frantic heartbeat ushered told that there is more to the mysterious and unusually silent ghost. The coins popped on letters G I R L and L O V E letter word kept popping.

Disha freaked out but laughed, “I toh am safe. Both of you guys beware.” The guys became silent and felt a chill down the spine, retorting, “What if she turns out to be a lesbian ghost?” The door banged with violence and glasses in the kitchen fell down as if someone is throwing them with fury.

The couple, Disha, and Shankar left for holiday at Munnar the next morning. Aditya stayed alone in the flat. He spent his time sleeping and a mysterious girl kept popping in his dreams to disappear in a blink. It felt so real that after he woke up, the bed moved and he felt like floating in the air.  The bed sheet was pulled off beneath Aditya withi fleeting seconds.

The window was wide open. The curtains moved and flew with the violent breeze forming a circle, stretched its might towards the skin to become one with the cloud. Aditya turned his gaze towards the door which banged like a potent fist that bolted it from outside and the window closed on its own.

Smoke flew inside Aditya’s room that steamrolled into a huge ring and a shadow taking a human form surfaced. Aditya received a jolt when he saw the face that haunted him in his dreams every night. The voice screeched and the face unfurled like tornado. “I am the same girl who comes in your dream…I am a spirit…I know Disha and Shankar. The three of you called me the last time. I am the Ouija girl. I will not harm you, Adi,” she spoke with fire in her eyes and tears flowing down her eyes.

Aditya felt suffocated and couldn’t comprehend whether he was still dreaming or she is for real.  He was already in love with the girl whose charm drew him towards her. The ghost haunted his spirit and soul.

The female ghost laughed uninterrupted, “I know what’s inside your mind. Every nerve in your cell is dictated by me. You are under my spell. You have fallen in love with a ghost. I have come here for you Adi. My soul wandered in every nook-and-corner traversed the clouds, mountain, and seas to quench my thirst of love a decade. I have left my incomplete life when my husband cheated on me. Finally,  I have found love in you. No power of the devil or Gods human worship shall separate us.”

Aditya was drawn towards the ghost as her human form broke into small cake of dust to disappear. He cried like a child and behaved in a violent manner, “Please don’t leave me and go. I will come after you.” He felt a powerful strike controlling his mind and senses. Aditya crashed on the floor.

To be continued…

The story is taken from a prompt from the book of Ganga Bharani’s Creative Writing: Plot Engine that contains more than 80 plot prompts and 2-3 directions under each plot. Make sure you click and buy the book here.


UBC 20: Cold night…a birthday wish


This post is written on Day 20 as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge and The Blog Chatter. I am penning short stories for the entire challenge in October. Hope you like the story.

Cold night…A birthday wish

It was a cold night. I hit the sack after gulping a couple of Scotch and waved goodbye to a bunch of friends who barged into the apartment. I turned off the light. It was my birthday. I finally ushered into the dreaded 30s this winter.

I was shivering to death. I wrapped the blanket to cover my body and didn’t realize when sleep took me in its midst. The loud ringtone woke me up and felt suddenly pushed by an invisible force out of the bed. My hands trembled as I picked the phone.

A gentle feminine and sensual voice sang, ‘”Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…” I was drowsy and couldn’t make out the voice singing happy birthday. There was a mystery in the voice. I asked, “Hello! Who is that?”

She kept singing melodiously, “You will recognize me soon…Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…Ignore me at your own peril” I dismissed it as a prank of my crazy friends. I was groggy and plodded my steps back to the bed. I almost sleepwalked.

I felt a terrible headache and the shivering sensation of someone hitting me with a hammer on my head. I wondered that I must have left the window wide open on hearing the mad rush of vehicles screeching, honking and moving at breakneck speed.

There were some feeble voices murmuring something behind my ears and it was the same voice but this time in shrilled tone singing, ‘Happy birthday to you’ not once or twice but intermittently. Am I still dreaming? I ask myself. Lightning flashed on my face. I slowly open my eyes and was horrified to see myself sleeping in the middle of the road. It took me a while to recollect myself. I was on the highway and saw a huge truck speeding in my direction, within an inch to hit me.

A potent force dragged me away and saved me in time. I was shaken. My hands were trembling. My heart was beating fast. I shivered with fear. I didn’t have the nerve to look around when a shadow tapped me on my shoulder, singing, ‘Happy birthday to you.’ I jumped in fear to see a girl waving goodbye to me and disappeared.

My legs suddenly became numb and weak. A vehicle dashed past me like violent wind storming in a direction when I saw a palm seeped in blood on its front mirror as blood oozed. It was written in blood, ‘Happy birthday to you.’ The shadow appeared in full. I was reeling under shock and lost my voice for few minutes. It was her!

My mind wandered back to the office days when I first came to Mumbai and met this mesmerizingly beautiful girl in the lift.  She has just joined our team. It was my birthday and she told some friends that she wants to be the first one to wish me, Happy birthday. She never did. The next morning, I came to office and was told that she jumped from the top tower and killed herself after storming out of the HR Manager cubicle.

UBC 19: The friendly roommate in white salwar


This post, ‘The Friendly roommate in white salwar’ is written for the ‘Ultimate Blog Challenge‘ and ‘The Blog Chatter‘ on Day 19. I am blogging for 31 days in October, writing short stories. Hope you enjoy reading the story.

The Friendly roommate in white salwar

The bricked colonial building stood on top of the sloping hill station of Shimla, surrounded by a line up of concrete houses with thatched corrugated roofs in the shadow of oak and pine trees. At nightfall, echoes were heard, voices whispering unheard stories and silent murmurs of wild animals that faded in the dark from a looming distance that disappeared in the hills.

The 18-year-old girl spent her first night in the British Gothic hostel that owed its naissance to the British rule and slept like a baby leaving behind her family behind in Delhi. The neo-gothic architecture played a haunting song from the Raj era flowing from the aerial views of thick forests, green mountainous slopes laden with pine and oak trees, dotted red-roofed chalets. The hostel lies behind the majestic Bishop Cotton School’s heavy iron gate and insignia stood tall and thriving.

The hostel corridor bore silence in the night and lyrical voices singing lullabies. Echoes of footsteps were heard behind as if a gentle tap bore a protective shoulder to the lone girl, Sayami, caught in her dreams. She loved to watch the towering pine trees that hid the white sky and whispering streams, and snow cakes covering the pathway.

It’s been one month since Sayami landed in Shimla. She was enthralled by the panoramic view of houses lining and jostling for space, nestled among the pine trees and cloud hidden behind the mountains. The row of houses are made of bricks on the slope and covered with mud and metal tin roofs. There were modern houses made of mortar bricks and modest dwellings that made the charm of Shimla. The stream of vehicles followed a straight line on the narrow road toward the hilly slope.

She waited for hours for the hostel matron to come and the petite, warm lady sat on her chair. “Come Sayami. What can I do for you?” She hesitated, “Ma’am! I filled the form for the single room. I am still in the guest room.” The matron gently nodded and looked at her with a sympathetic glance, “Sorry dear. The single rooms are taken. I can only give you a double occupancy.”

Sayami dragged her luggage inside where two beds with fresh white bed sheet were sprawled in the huge, white coated room.  A tall girl wearing white Salwar Kameez lay on the other bed and her eyes decked on a book. Her face lit up at the sight of Sayami.  “Hi, Didi (elder sister). I am Sayomi from Delhi. What a pleasant surprise. I thought that I’d be alone.” The girl who looked like a dream with near perfect white face, black jet long hair nodded and her smile drove Sayomi closer to her. She felt an instant connection with the tall, stranger girl.

There was something unusual about Sayami’s roommate. Every time, Sayami came back from class, her friend would recline in the same position on the bed, wearing the beautiful white Salwar Kameez and her head drenched in a book. Her face shone bright like the light that pierced inside the room. Sayami always asked, “Didi! You didn’t go for lecture today?” Her companion bobbed her head with a smile on her face.

There was a project presentation in college and Sayami was freaking out. Her roommate wiped the tears and sweat on her face and head with her pallu. No words were exchanged. At times, Sayami felt she was speaking to the four walls. When she came back from lecture, she was amazed to see that her ‘Didi’ has beautifully designed her presentation on the white sheet of paper with perfect drawings, pictures, and colors.

Sayami was elated, ‘WoW! Didi! Chalo! Let’s go for a stroll in Shima and I will treat you with hot ginger tea. Waise aap kuch bolti bhi nahin (You never say anything) but love your smile, spreading my life with joy and bubbling energy.’

Both girls walked past the old bungalows and row houses, old derelict churches, enjoyed the cold breeze that wafted, admiring school children walking in their crisp green uniform, laughing and prancing around in the snowflakes. Their steps trudged the slope, separated by metal gates and admiring the sky, view of houses, colonial buildings while the oak trees gave them shade from the blistering sun. They sat on the ridge to admire the aerial view of old estates and houses on the slope reaching to the hill.

The hot milk mixed with ginger boiled in the huge vessel and flowed straight into small glasses as the steam blew on their faces. Men and women, wrinkled faces and the whole youth spent in the business of selling fresh tea to warm cold hands and the stomach in the harsh winter while life was never easy on them. Sayami and her friend gulped the tea and the smile never waned away on the face of the former. She wondered how her ‘Didi’ can smile every day and takes life so easy. Even the tea sellers couldn’t take their sight away from Didi who spends her whole day sitting on the bed with a spark on a face whose glow was intact.

It was the end of the third year in college and Sayami was almost on the verge of tears to leave Shimla and her Didi who became a companion in her life. Her friends asked, “So, Sayami, three years has ended in the flick of time in the beautiful Shimla. You will miss college and hostel, na?” She wiped a tear from her eye, “Haan yaar. I will miss ‘Didi, my roomie who takes good care of me in our room, helping with project and exams.”

The girls expressed disbelief, “What bullshit are you saying? What Didi? You stay alone in the double room.” Sayami stubbornly said, “No! No! What you girls saying? I am mad or what?” The girls didn’t laugh and said, “No one stays in the room, apart from you. If you don’t believe us, go and ask Matron Ma’am.” She ran and knocked on the office door, “Ma’am! It’s a double room. My friends are saying that I stay alone and there is no other girl in the room.”

The matron was surprised, “What’s wrong, Sayami? Of course, you stay alone Beti (daughter). We gave you a double room because the single rooms were taken. She almost choked and thought what has befallen on her.

Sayami gently pushed the wooden door that creaked open. The most beautiful girl with the perfect figure was lying on the bed in her white Salwar that bore no stain and her face shone like the stars in the sky. The exuded a smile and didn’t bat an eyelid when Sayami stammered, “Didi! See what they are saying that I live alone in the room! Why don’t you say anything, Didi? Say something, na.”

Her eyes lolled in Sayami’s direction but the smile never faded. She didn’t utter a single word. Sayami inched towards the bed to touch her but hit the empty, white sheet on the bed.  There was no one. Her Didi has suddenly disappeared. She smiled at Sayami from a distance where she became invisible to disappear in the mountains and looking for a new, innocent friend whose space she could invite herself.

Postscript: It’s a ‘real’ incident narrated to me way back in 2007 by my hostel mate Subhodeep as we sat in his room, facing Marine Drive spending the hours past midnight that ushered in the sight of sunrise in South Mumbai. Of course, I have never been to Shimla but my dear friend Devangini Chauhan gave me lots of inputs.  Hope you liked the story.


UBC 18: A night to be remembered

This post is written on for the Ultimate Blog Challenge and The Blog Chatter on Day 18, ‘A night to be remembered’. For the entire challenge for 31 days in October, I am writing short stories.

‘A night to be remembered’


The night fell like owls disappearing and surfacing on the empty and deserted road on the Mumbai-Pune Expressway. The place was famous for the scary ghost stories and narration of a random woman, wearing short white skirt popping up in the middle of the night to scare the shit out of travellers and hustle them away. They say, she is a catholic woman who killed herself by jumping off the cliff after he made torrid love with her.

Shrikant was drunk at the party and charmed the ladies off the perch, waltzing and smooching his way to heaven, making out with the hottest chicks. The wild stallion, that he is stormed out of the party and doggedly insisted that he will drive the brand new SUV alone on the deserted streets in the wee hours in the morning. “I am not scared of ghost women. Bring them on. I’ll give them a good time. After all, I am a khula Saand.”

The dude fastened his seat belt, steered the engine and gulped the quarter bottle of whisky as the music of Lady Gaga thundered loudly in the car. The night was scarily eerie as the car zoomed past the bridge and halted in front of the church. A woman, dressed in white saree and long hair flowing past her waist paraded, walking seductively bulging her assets and moving the upper part of her body. It was enough to knock Shrikant and the car screeched its way towards the pavement. The playboy was stirred and shaken at the same time.

The stories of the lone woman soared temperatures high and tormented him to death.  Shrikant bolted the doors in his cars and steered the engine back to life. He breathed heavily. He almost neared a heart attack. His heart was beating furiously. He was sweating and his hand fidgeted with his Apple cell phone, losing his grip on the wheel and shaking like an old man. The door of his car flipped open on its own.

Shrikant was feeling dizzy and almost closed his eyes, as the women gently held his hand and whispered into his ears, “Come with me to heavenly bliss. You no longer belong to this world. You are already dead and chucked out the physical body. We will make love in the garden of angels and jinns. I have found my love. You have reached salvation.”

The man was convinced that he has left the physical body ushered out of the car as his angel led towards the rocky terrain. She unveiled her face. “My God, she is so beautiful, mysterious and sensually enticing. How come I never met her when I was still alive!”

She caressed and cupped his face, blowing a passionate smooch that bruised his lip. He heard claps behind him and someone yelled, “Well done. Cut! Perfect scene.” Shrikant turned around and saw a group of men and women, cheering and someone sitting on the director’s chair laughing.

The girl smiled wickedly to him, “Sorry Shrikant. We were shooting a film and you became the bakra. I am no ghost and touch my hand. We wanted to make the scene authentic. I am Mrinalini.” She offered her hand. Shrikant was besotted.

Mrinalini seductively turned her face towards a bunch of people and pointed with her manicured fingers. It was his friends he left at the party. It was their doing. They intentionally led him towards this path in his drunken state and dissuaded him by instilling the fear of ghosts. His friends knew that he is stubborn and will prove he is not scared of ghosts. He cursed them, “Bastards…Fuckall, man.”

Shrikant held the heroine’s hand, “I gotta give it to you. You scared the shit out of me. I wanna take the revenge and kiss you.”

She smiled seductively, “When did I say No?”

He caressed her lips and smooched his best.

Postscript: The story was influenced by one of the prompt on Ganga Bharani’s recent published book ‘Creative Writing, Plot Engine.’ A short book which gives amazing leads to newbie writers wanted to get published. A must read. Check on Amazon.