“All good things come to an end… But if they are good enough, they ought to return”

That ain’t said by anyone famous, but its just a thought of yours truly. 

And here I am bringing back, one of my most cherished ideas – Micro Fiction, with a fresh new beginning. It brings with it much more love and gratitude towards everyone who made its first series so successful, that after much apprehension and indecision I could gather enough courage to revive it again. All through the week I have had butterflies in my tummy, just imagining the moment when I would finally click on the “Publish” button. 

More than that, I have thoroughly basked in the respect and love that so many of you have poured upon me, by contributing just on my insistence. Also, I need not forget the people who have been constantly coaxing me to get it back. They are one of the most dear people who I have come across in life and I am really thankful to them for showing belief in this idea when even I doubted it. Believe me, without that I would not have been able to do it. 

Also, there are those who support me, by just being the readers. 

I am highly grateful to all of you. 

I know I have rambled  too much and for many of you it is not that big an event also. But believe me… for me it is big. And I actually believe that we need not wait for the big occasions, instead we should celebrate each small one like a big do. And so here I lead you all to another collection of wonderful thoughts, words and world of imagination…


The Missing Head

‘Where is the head? I need to see the head!’ barked MI6 special agent Jonathan Mayfair, OBE into his two way radio. ‘It must be around! Look carefully.’ said the voice at the other end. ‘I know!! This is not the first time I am handling a world leader who is in pieces’ said Mayfair who had seen his share of blood and gore. ‘Dad! You never pay attention!’ an exasperated James Mayfair replied into his toy walkie. Ego deflated, Jonathan knew it was going to be a long vacation if he did not put the Abraham Lincoln jigsaw puzzle together fast.



Eg0 – sometimes a saviour, sometimes a destroyer. A man’s ego is his woman; a woman’s ego is her man. People think ego is the reason of breakups and all. But they don’t know there is a reason behind so much of ego. People doesn’t see the real fact, they always see your negative side. Ego is not negative side, but it is protective side.


Let it go

We are surrounded by this thing called ego so much that we often forget the meaning of love.It has happened with me. I ruined my 10 year old friendship with a friend who was not just a friend. Was more of a sister, a soul mate.

Sadly, when I realized it, it was too late. I so regret it. That feeling of regret rips me apart, kills me within. My ego killed that “friend” within me that was so much loved.

This ego inside us stops us from helping people, stops us to love them, and above all, it makes us forget how to value those who love us so much. We should never let our ego rule our mind, it ignores all the things our heart wants. Not just relationships, not just happiness, Ego is killing humanity too. Ego is our biggest enemy. We should try to “Kill” it. 

Just let it go? No, not the people, Let your ego go? 



“No I can’t do it anymore” says G renouncing.
“But you have to, you can’t thrive without it” spoke the man at the darkest corner on the table.
“And who are you to advise me. We met just 10 minutes ago.”
“mhunh my dear, we’ve been friends since you acquire intellect. I am your best friend.”
“What the hell are you talking?” asked G.
“Truth mate. Which is that you exist because I aid you? Without me you’ll drawn in your own trench of sorrow and pity. Without me you’ll lose all your self-importance. Without me you’ll be a bug ready to get thrashed between the hands of…well any pair of hands”
A dumbfounded G tried to say something but the laws of bio-mechanics diminished that moment. A waitress put 2 glasses of alcohol on the table. G supped his with in a blink. The man said “thanks, I don’t consume anymore. I am with the program. 8 months this week.” As soon as he finished G swallowed his glass also.
Retaining his voice by the wonder of alcohol G says insolently “So what you saying is, that… you…do not…”
“What I am saying is this that” interrupts the man “you will not talk to that chick beforehand. If she talks to you first then only you’ll do whatever is that you will be planning this night to do”
All the whisky has evaporated from G’s consciousness with a splat and he blathers “how… owu… haw… how do you know that? You…”
“How do I know?” the man cut G’s blathering aggressively “You stupid urchin. I am not an encyclopedia that will give you your answers. I am your friend who gives you your strength.”
The man rises from his stance and says ”now I shall go. I can’t be seen with you for too long”
G finally overcome his mutism and speaks “What’s your name friend?”
The man turns. He is G himself.
“Look at the table” he says and walks away.
G throws his glance on the table and sees a word engraved on the table ‘मै’.


Stitched Ego

 “But what is wrong in it? Why can’t You get a few tailored jeans at least once?” gnarled Mom. Her voice felt like it fell on the Deaf-wall of the boy’s ears and reflected back. She fumed even more. Meanwhile Dad remained as unreactive as a monk sitting in his own penance under a tree.

It is not the first time this scene happened. Though the demand this time being quiet different, pointless as usual. Finally, Dad broke his silence, “do not grow your ego so much, you are just 19 yet!’ Mom joined in “You are not born in the family of ambanis or such millionaires. Just go and see other houses sons are so obedient. We do so much for you, yet you do not value! “Boy finally controlling from letting his emotions flow – “Fine, I have a lot of ego, I like to wear branded clothes only.” and rammed into his room.

Next day while cleaning his son’s room, got hold of a book and ran to his husband. He reads – “Ok Diary, I know. I know you demand an explanation for whatever happened this afternoon. Yes I know I need a Jeans, but looking the present conditions at home, I wanted to minimise the expense on me. They are already spending so much on me. If I had said this in simple words, he (Dad) would not have agreed. Fine they think I have ego, but this atleast make them think even about spending a few bucks on them. ” 

Finally He got what he craved for since ages ‘A Bear hug from his Dad’. Happiness rolled on his cheeks, beaming his face with satisfaction.


Banished !

It had been 16 years since she last saw her daughter. She clearly remembered those deep dark eyes, the flowing brown locks and the enchanting smile that the whole world adored. Tara remembered how, when she was a child, her daughter used to run up to her and kiss her cheek with the pure innocent love of a child. But unfortunately she could not forget how her only beloved child had disgraced the name of her family by chasing after a wild ridiculous dream. Belonging to a family of scholars, the acclaimed neurologist Tara hadn’t in her worst fears for her daughter’s future, considered that after winning a scholarship to Harvard medical school, her daughter would foolishly throw away all she had for such a superficial, nonintellectual profession. Once she was convinced that her daughter would not change her mind, in a fit of rage Tara had declared her daughter to be dead to her.

Her teenage daughter, now a women of thirty-five had become a confident and successful actress  , but even after all these years, after all the wasteful attempts of reconciliation from her daughter’s side, Tara still could not forgive her, could not back out on what she had once declared-her daughter was dead to her. Although her heart ached for her little girl, she was headstrong about her decision; nothing could melt her heart, hardened by ego.

Now she sat in her study, trying hard not to be weak and change her mind as her daughter approached her door. Tara had refused to see her. She didn’t believe her mother could be so hard and had come to try again. She had flown all the way from London for some work and would be there for just a day. The doorbell rang but no one answered. She waited for 10 minutes then inquired to her neighbors who confirmed Tara’s presence in the house. She was disheartened and started to return to the car. Tara had come to the window and was looking into the street; she observed her son in law had accompanied her daughter. Her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled as he slid into the car with the tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket in his arms.  That night Tara didn’t sleep, just gazed out of her window into the emptiness of her street, the emptiness of her life.


What does a Death in Paradise sound like?

Among banana trees and in the glow of the sun. Do you hear the scream within?  My problem is that I cannot hear it. I see my body tangled twisted and warped in time, lost to history and memory. May be I do not hear because the past is muted to my deafness. So we wonder how the past speaks to us; words, images, smell all come out when someone decides to tell the truth. Truth is loud and history cannot speak, yet we turn sideways in the mirror and stare blankly, at our person and our humanity, and simply ask: Why does this success makes me sad.

First must come the sound of the enemy within. His shoes kicking up the dust of the street. You hear the soul crying within. You feel the drip of salt slide down your temple, cheek and neck. It collects in a pool on the floor. There is no knock, no sign of entry. Everything is conspicuously peaceful and you forget where you are and why you are there. Flashes are all that your cortex can spare and then the loneliness sets in. The knell (slow bell ring) has sounded and everything moves slowly. Where did he come from? You smell his sweat and feel your own.

So in the end we are left with our own enemy the one word that describe it is called EGO. What if EGO is not the death of one person but the entire paradise around us?


The Lost Friendship

Harish… The weak boy of the family. The only one who was going to take up over the responsibility of the family. All he loved was cricket. His friends knew his weakness and lured him to betting, not a large amount but the ones which would suffice to earn him his pocket money. Arun, his life time best friend was against all the unethical practices. Wanting to save him, he tried to stop him but Harish was so attracted that he couldn’t. Arun stopped talking to him and 6 months passed. Harish’s parents were informed and even they supported Arun. Finally Harish realized, it was all in vain. He was drained; he wanted everything to be back to normal. He along with his parents called Arun at his place and apologized for the same. They were back, yes Arun and Harish couldn’t ever stay without each other. More than just ego, it was Arun’s initiative to bring him back to a normal life. Arun was always forgiving and more than anything, relationships mattered to him, for he had lost people, he had lost friends, he had lost relatives, and he had lost a part of his family which wasn’t just blood. All he wanted is Harish to realize that shortcuts won’t matter and only effort will take you a long way. Harish. The weak boy of family is now settled, a working full time job, earning a good amount, happy and settled. Arun is with him always, blessing him for Life.



Ego – It can be good or it can be bad. Having ego about the good deeds you have done isn’t harmful. But having ego about all the things you have done which you think are right but have ended up hurting many will end up hurting yourself badly one day.
Considering yourself above everyone is good. But tomorrow when someone will replace you, what will hurt you the most is your ego of not being replaced ever.
You have ego just because you are way beautiful than others. You will comment on someone’s color, or someone’s obesity or whatever, but when with age, your beauty will fade, and then the same people on whom you used to comment will comment on you, you won’t be able to take it. Because ego.

Sometimes, it’s good to let ego go to keep life and love balanced.

Always remember, “Aasman ko chune ke liye kabhi apni zamee ko na chhodna.”


The Scorn (read a Woman’s Ego)

She sat in front of a mirror, preparing herself with painstaking detail. It was going to be another one of those nights. After some fussing about-oh, the hair never falls in place!… she got up and took a last long look before stepping out.

She took her car and went to her favourite place. She always called them there. A young man was waiting. Good! At least he is on time…“You look beautiful”, he said. She laughed… mirthlessly. He was genuinely admiring her, but she pretended not to notice. “Thanks”, she said and walked past him. He followed.

He flustered slightly, unable to take his eyes off her, as they sat down. “What should we order?”, he asked. Indecisive not my kind of guy. “Anything you like is fine”, she replied. He looked at the menu, carefully screening what she would not eat on a first date, and placed the order. And the conversation began…

It was not such a bad evening after all. She enjoyed herself, but as the night came to a close, she cut it short. She got up. “I have an early day tomorrow. It was nice to meet you”, she said. “When can I see you again?”, he almost pleaded. Soon… maybe. “Call me”, she said, while walking away.

As she walked, high on the evening’s pleasantries, she looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone she had not met in a long time. This used to be their place… She gave a lingering look before she stepped back into her car, still wearing that mask.



He looked out of the window. The sun was rising. Through the recesses of the the clouds, it was slowly brightening up the sky, shooting darkness out of sight. He lit a cigarette. “Why?” a voice rang up. “Because it is none of your business!” he chided.

The chirping of birds outside reminded him of the good times. The love of his life now lived thousands of miles apart, with mere phone calls at their disposal. He knew it won’t be easy, temptations being everywhere around him; and she was devoted to him, yet the idea of freedom is only so beautiful that no one can really let go of it so easily. Hence, fights became regular, indispensable, irreparable…

Last night was just another usual conversation. He could not agree to her explanations, and she could not take in his accusations. “I hate you!” her voice shrieked through the phone.”Same here! Goodbye!” he barked and banged the phone down. His thoughts were clouded. She too felt the same, he knew. Yet neither of them would apologize to the other person. The next day would start with a reboot of their conversations, and would probably end up in the similar way as it did last night. He sighed as he thought of the past, when ego was just not there when it came to their relationship. They were thick in love, regretted even the slightest of spat and would resolve a small quarrel with such passion. 

“Why?” the voice rang up in his head, once again. This time, it sounded like hers. Or perhaps it was the nicotine that made him feel that way. “Why?” it asked again. “Because I LOVE YOU!” he yelled, throwing the cigarette away, curling up to a fetal posture, weeping discreetly. “…a lot.”


The Red Lipstick Girl

Six months had gone by since their break up. This day would have been so different had he been with her. He had moved away from her life & so did celebrations. This day would also be spent in melancholy & thinking about their time together.

Sometimes, it seemed like a dream. What else could be the explanation? They were so much in love & so happy together! Why would anyone want to leave? Sighing, she opened her inbox to read his mails. These were the only proof that their love was real. She was deeply engrossed in one of his mails when her phone rang. It was her bestie calling to wish her Happy Birthday.

Her bestie sensed her state of mind & convinced her to go out with her. While dressing up, she came across her red lipstick. It was her quirk. Whenever she was happy she used to put on this red lipstick. Instinctively she picked up the lipstick & applied it. She was not ready to be happy yet. But she could show the world she was. Would save her from pity & questioning eyes!

He was going through her profile on Facebook. It had been six months since he saw her. Time apart made him realise how much he loved her. This was a test he had inflicted upon them. He wanted to be sure as he couldn’t afford another heart break. He would now know if she truly loved him. His eyes stopped on one of the pics she was tagged in. The pic was taken on her birthday. His heart filled with love on seeing her smile but his eyes froze when he saw her red lipstick. He understood what that meant. She had moved on. With a heavy heart he blocked her, never wanting to see her again.


Blog: http://www.mirchiladdoo.com/


We lived under the same roof, shared the same dreams, and liked the same stuff.
Then he crept in and things changed for us. He killed the essence of us.
I am lonely because of my ego and he is alone because of his.


Blog: www.ravenousforlife.wordpress.com

I Won Right ??

The meter read Rs.27.00.
Akash gave 3 10Rupees notes to the rickshaw walah and waited for his change…
Chutta nahi hai… 7 rupya khulla do” sandesh the rickshaw wallah said.
“Nahi hai matlab kya yaar. Poora din toh sawaari kiya naa.. kaise nahi hai chutta. Check kar, zarur hoga tere paas”.
Sandesh outraged said “Ab tu decide karega ki mere pocket mein kitna chutta hai saale”.
“Abbe saala kisko bola bey. Jyaadaa udtaa hai kya. Rukh teri main bajaataa hun“. He called up om the RTO helpline and within 5 minutes the local Beat Marshall came to the spot.
Sensing trouble Sandesh apologised to the RTO Marshall and Akash and paid the 3 rupees change. Yes.. he had 3 rupees change all the time.
Next day while akash was crossing the road to catch his usual rick to office,
A carrier van which rammed into him and he died on the spot…
The van did not stop and nobody even noticed the number of the vehicle.
Vikas the van driver told sandesh “Saale kutte, 3 rupye ke liye ye tune kya karwaaya merese!!!! 
Jaan le li ek bandhe ki sirf 3 rupya chutte ke liye”.
“Saalaa mereko pulice mein pakdaane wala tha… abhi pahucha diya upar seedha. End mein apun jeet gaya na???”
Vikas just nodded his head in disbelief.


And that is how I wrote this

She picked up her weapon… and finally it rained…

The mighty proud sun had been bullying everyone around. Laughing, at the torment that it showered on everyone. Even she was bogged down by his tortures. 

She used to remind him constantly that so much pride is not good and he should mellow down. He used to feel offended whenever she said so. He didn’t want to be instructed by her. She was nothing but a mere speck of cloud, dark, ugly and haphazard. She stopped bothering him. She left him to simmer in his ego and pride.

He grew… and so grew his pride, and a bigger ego. He thought no one could ever over-shadow him. No one could ever block him. And he just kept his torment on.
Then came the day the humble cloud returned and she came back with a plan. As the sun rose higher, she descended lower. And both continued on their paths, the sun unaware, and the cloud with her plan. She descended lower and further lower, so low that none could see the sun anymore.

And then she struck her bolt, her lightning bolt. She broke herself and pored heavily. Everyone sighed in relief. The sun stood in the corner awestruck and helpless, his ego all shattered.

And while it rained, she wrote away their story.



for more info check Once Again

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