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Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Kiacomme (Part I)


                                               *THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION*

There was nothing different in the small town on Christmas Eve, apart from the smell of Christmas. the typical aroma filling the air, last minute Christmas shopping's, choirs practicing before the midnight mass. Distant giggles, silent kisses filled the gaps between the silence of the choir. People hung onto their frames, wrapped in layers of woolens. There was nothing to suggest anything unlikely, until Martha screamed.

There was nothing 'special' going on in Martha's life. She was staying alone, and has been alone for a long time, since anyone could remember. Certain rumors had it, that Martha was deserted by her Husband, after he learned of her love for the Dark magic. Occult , she would say and try reason it to him that it was for fun. However, he had reasons to believe that she used it, to have him in her life. He was supposed to have been rich and Handsome, and Martha a plain simple lass. There were others who said that he was having an affair, and it broke poor Martha's heart when she got to know of it. So well, once the stories became stale, Martha was just another lady who lived down the street, till she screamed.

Martha, had just locked her house, on the way to church. It was an old habit of hers to check everything twice before he left. She was walking towards her gate, when she stepped onto something. 'Arggh, the bloody kids have thrown something again', she thought aloud. She was about to kick away the garbage, when a car screeched near her lane, throwing light on her gravel. She saw it one second and then gasped, ran back to her door and fetched the flashlight, she kept near her pots, and flashed in the direction of the garbage. Her insides squirmed, she felt bile rising from her throat, but what escaped was a blood curling scream, as she saw a human hand, lying near her gate.

-------------

The cops in the small town of Kiacomme, were literally 'jobless'. They had their share of handing out Parking tickets, ensuring 'Law and Order', however, their little town never reported any 'crime'. Complaints were petty issues like , someone having thrown garbage in another's compound. A person was fined for driving at a speed of 20 kph, when it clearly said 60 kph  So in short a very 'boring' town for the cops. They used to have an inside joke stating that if 'ever', there was a real crime, say a murder , they would just hand a 'Fine', as that was what they were good at. But the incident, at Martha's house shook the little town. People were intrigued and to be honest scared.

------------

Media swarmed in from distant districts to dish out the scoop on their channels.

'Santa seemed to have dropped his hand...' said one reporter , 'let's try finding out more..'

'A human hand was found lying outside a residents house, on Christmas eve ....'

'The first crime in  Kiacomme has shook the shook the entire town, and what a crime it is .... '

Mikes were thrust at Martha's face, as she enjoyed every moment of glory. Her stories started off with what had actually happened , to a little additions of her own later. One week down, and the reporters faded away. The cops couldn't find anything more, like  a body that the hand would go with etc. There system was so basic, that even for a DNA testing they had to wait for a week, as it involved lot of paperwork.Luckily they took away the hand from Martha, or she would have even kept it as a prized possession.

----------

Two weeks later...

Someone rang the church bell at 3:30 am , much to the annoyance of the Priest. Fr. Pasco, got up to check the reason for the same, and he saw a lone figure at the church door.He went back and wore his spectacles, to get a better look. However , there was no one, he looked over at the entrance, but saw no one. he looked around , and was greeted by an owl. He was surprised, as he clearly remembered seeing a hazy silhouette of a person. Even if that person had to run away, Pasco would have noticed, as the entrance to the church was easily more than a km. even if they had to run, he was sure, he would have noticed. He dismissed that thought and walked over to the church door. He saw a wet sack lying at the door, with something scrawled in water he thought. A closer look and he read RIP, near the sack. Something of an alarm rang in his mind. He called out for his help, to switch on the lights. And there he saw the sack was wet with blood, and RIP was scribbled hastily in Blood.

----

Jack Collins was 35,and from the time he could remember.he always wanted to be a cop. He wanted to protect people, and lend his services for them. He was an excellent cop, til he was stationed at Kiacomme. There was hardly anything he had to look into, and boredom set in. He retired when he was 32, and ran a store in the town. However, he was the first person who was called when the Martha incident took place. He had his theories but the younger breed of cops, looked down upon him. He had warned them saying this was just the beginning.

---------

Sergeant Jerry and Nicholas came in half an hour after being called in by Fr. Pasco. Jerry had a little past, which made him squeamish at the sight of blood. As soon as he saw the scene , he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He cleared his throat and thought of daisies, and tried remembering how they smelled. But the rusty smell of blood, had reached his nose, and they hung on real strong. No matter how hard he tried he puked.

Nicholas tried to maintain a straight face, and continued with his interrogation. He waited for the rest of his team to come before inspecting the sack.

They found the remaining body stacked inside the sack, in a very awkward position. The head was beaten up, it was as though someone tried chopping of the head from the neck but decided otherwise.The man was tortured beyond doubt. His right hand was found intact, and the left hand was found missing. it was cut right from the shoulders. The white of the bones stared at them.

The forensics came in. it took them 4 hours to complete the needed. Having low expertise in the same, both Jerry and Nicholas, were in doubt regarding the next course of action. The news was abuzz with the gruesome murder. The mayor as in a fix as he started getting calls from higher authorities probing an inquiry in the matter of the murder.

Mayor Fitzgerald, was a round, outgoing person, who never had to bother about crime, until now. He was under lot of pressure especially from the media, who wanted answers on the next course of action etc.

He summoned Jerry and Nicholas in his office for answers and was left with even more doubt about the outcome.

-------

Ryan Andrews, 37, was a college professor  He taught History and Archaeology at Dunnville University. He was a good professor and was loved by his students especially the female students. He was what they called an "eye cooler'. Ryan stood tall at 6'2", had an athletic build. He had wavy brown hair, and gray eyes, which could melt even the toughest metal, is what the girls said. He was single, but loved to have his share of fun with his students, and colleagues whichever was more willing.

He had applied for a weeks leave which was granted. He informed his class of his leave, which was met with collective groans and sighs from the girls. He smiled and waved out to all of them before heading out to his car. He was humming  a tune,and almost forgot the tune. 'darn', he started again and forgot it at the same place. he tried recollecting it, but to no luck, he was on the verge of giving up, when suddenly someone whistled the tune.

He looked back,and was startled to have seen the person.

'Hey Sa..' the rest of the words got drowned in a passionate kiss. He could barely feel his feet, they were giving away, well that was the effect she had on him. It was years ago that he had met her in his class. Always eager to learn. How naive she had been then, he thought, and now, as she let her tongue explore, he moaned back. She was always a fast learner, he thought. He let go of his briefcase and held her closer.He could feel the swell of her breasts, and the curve of her back. Oh, she is good, he moaned to her every move. He felt an urgent desire. He pulled her towards him. She kissed him harder and let go, seeing him want for more. He felt her move towards his ears. Her breath was calm and controlled and yet urgent 'Come, lets go'. he stared at her deep brown eyes, and nodded.

She opened his car, and put his case inside, and got into the drivers seat, she smiled and nodded towards the passenger seat. He got in, and sat looking at her.

'You have changed so much', he said admiring every part of her body. He saw the fabric stretched over her bosom, and the way they made it to her thighs. He patted her thighs and she opened them, inviting and teasing him.

'I'm sorry if I , you know I did not .. I never... I was ... I ...' he was lost for words as he kept looking at her, admiring and lusting.

'Ssshhh, Ryan... i know, i know everything'. She slammed on the brakes at the signal, and planted another kiss.Lucky the glasses were tinted. He was lost. he had become a puppy yearning for attention. She pulled into his driveway. She could see the effect she had on him. She climbed on top of him and went close to his ears. He couldn't contain himself. He wanted her that very minute.'Keys', she said, gently taking his hands off her .'Patience love', she nibbled his ears. She got out of the car, and walked to the door. Her hips swaying naturally, she knew he was looking, and she wanted him to look. After all those years , she thought.

Ryan entered the house. He saw her shoes, on the stairs, followed by her bag. he grinned, of course she knew the way to his room. He loosened his tie, and let go of his suit. He saw her skirt at the stairs. he was excited and ready. he opened the door, and saw her standing, waiting for him. He ran towards her, and stripped her off whatever was left, he urgently undid his shirt and pants. She smiled, waiting for him. They made love over and over again.

Night fell, she kissed him. 'Ready' she asked. 'again?, you just cannot have enough of me can you?'. 'Not even if i wanted to'. She started kissing him again, and tied his hands together. 'What are you doing?' , he looked at her playfully. 'Just ensuring things', she said, as she slid lower. He shivered under her warmth. She tied his legs and got on top of him. 'Aahhh, did someone order kinky?', he winked and laughed. She sat there without saying a word. His smile gave away. "what?'. She didn't utter a word,and kept staring at him. Her eyes cold.His intuition told him something was wrong, but he admonished it as soon as it came.

'Ryan, you remember the time when we were dating?', she stuffed his socks in his mouth. His eyes almost jumped out of his socket, as he saw her  taking a butcher knife from her bag. She came and sat on him. 'Oh, look your junior has gone limp, i'm sure you wont want him again'. She brought down the blade and tears screamed from his eyes. 'Remember when we were dating Ryan'. He nodded his head in pain, and almost succumbing to her. 'what, i cant hear you baby'. He muffled a sorry from between the socks. 'i donno what you saying'. 'You remember, how i had come over for extra coaching, and you taught me more than just the syllabus?. I had pleaded you to stop, and you smacked me across my face, as you forced yourself on me. Smack' she pulled the knife across his face.'smack', she dragged it across his chest.' You remember baby, how you put that dresser on my hand, I had to go in for loads of treatment, and now after 8 years , i can actually feel my hand. Smack'.

She drove the blade through his left hand.She didn't remove it instead she jerked it to and fro, to and fro, till he lost conscious. She kept looking at him. He stirred in his sleep. he was hoping it to be a bad dream, but he could feel severe pain below his stomach,and on his left. He opened his eyes to see a blur image, of a woman stark naked. He shuddered when he realized he wasn't dreaming.

'Oh you are awake baby?, i was waiting for you'. He screamed, gagged, and felt the liquid leaving his mouth. he gagged more. She ignore all of it, and walked towards the window. 'You remember, what you had said about my body, that i'd need so much to cover it that the rest of the world would have to go naked. I felt bad then, you said that in class, in front of everyone. You called me  crippled, when it was your doing. I didn't have the courage to tell anyone what you had done. But when i told you i was pregnant, you called me names. Sigh. You should have never said all of those. you should have never done all those things to me Ryan'.

She turned to see him struggling to free himself.She smiled. 'Ryan, that's a toche knot, with latex. the more you try to free yourself, the more.. aahhh, right there, the more it digs into your skin'. She pointed to blood oozing out of his hand and feet. 'You should stay still. Loss of blood isn't a good thing. You tend to hallucinate, you would beg me to kill you, etc, and we have more to talk. Its just the second day, don't be such a wuss Ryan  remember, how you used to fondle me in the library, force yourself inside me, in the washroom. You were bad. very bad' she laughed out a hollow laugh.

'You know this place called kiacomme?', she looked over at him. 'Ryan, now be a good boy don't make me angry. Have you heard of this place'. He nodded his head sideways at the sight of the knife in her hand. You know its a quiet town. Very very quiet, no murders , all happy happy people. I was born there. Its a very small town. i do owe Kiacomme dont i?'. She laughed looking at his expression. She dragged a heavy center table and placed it on his chest. 'This should help speed things up my love'. The weight made it difficult for him to breathe. He pleaded with his eyes. He pleaded for forgiveness and then it was all over. She dressed up, and left the house. She took his severed left arm with her. She hummed the tune , and drove to kiacomme, she drove around the city, and threw the severed hand dusk, in someone's house. They are bound to find it. She smiled and got back to take care of the rest.

------

Jack had heard about the murder, well who hadn't. The entire town was talking about it.The media spoke endlessly about it. Every single segment spoke about the murder. The cops were trying their best to get some clues. Forensics were working 24*7. But all they could find out was the name of the Victim  - Ryan Andrews, Professor. He was just granted two weeks of leave, hence no one cross-checked or filed a complaint about his whereabouts.

'He came in the evening, and took some time in the vehicle, so i didn't wait to say hello, and then i saw him leave', said his neighbor  The cops took her statement, and checked every corner, in his house, but came up with nothing.Zilch.

This was the type of case that Jack dreamt about working on. He called Fitz for a favor, and was a part of the team. The rest had their issues, but they kept it to themselves.



to be continued












Saturday, February 09, 2013

Liebster Award





       First of all Congratulations Karan, and Thank you for nominating me for the LiEbStEr Award.

Now for all the curious souls, like mine. I launched into a Shashthang Pranam to Google, to help me with the idea behind the term and the award . As Karan has mentioned, its an award to the "Dearest or beloved" blogger. I also managed to find the origin (i assume) of the same on a blog dated 2010.

Anyways, lets proceed to the new rules :

* Post 11 things about Yourself
* Answer 11 q from the nominator
*Choose 11 deserving bloggers who have less than 200 followers.
*Set 11 q for them and inform them that they have been awarded. Simple ryt??

Now One thing about myself I'm Lazy , so I'm going to answer the 11 q. So you'd also know 11 things about me.. Yayyyyy :P

These are Karan's q's and my answers to them :)



1.  What made you start your blog?
     I figured typing was a better option to writing , especially when i couldn't comprehend what i had written.

2.  Do you encourage others to start blogging?
     No, to each his own.

3.  How many incomplete blogs you have written that you somehow couldn’t complete? Why so?
     I had two Incomplete posts. Serah and opaque. I felt emotionally drained writing both of them. o i let them be.

4.  Do you have any childhood dream you want to accomplish? If yes, what it is?
     No, I'm living it.

5.  What is your most embarrassing moment?
     Everytime i try recollecting who i'm talking with.

6.  If you could be any fictional character, who would you choose?
     TinTin

7.  The best compliment you have got till date?
     That i have a "Great memory"

8.  Craziest thing you did?
     Talked loudly to myself, while travelling in a Local train.
   
9.  Which possession of yours you can’t tolerate to be touched by others?
      My bottle of water
   
10.  Define yourself in 4 words.
       Impulsive, Dreamer, Loyal, Mush pot

11.  What does this award mean to you?
        Another Post under the Label "Award"



I nominate : (My nominations are purely on the basis that i love to read their blogs, and yes i might be breaking rules of the 11 nominations etc. ANYHOW, these are the guys... drum rolls and a thunderous applause guys :)

Sri
Kappu
Just another wake-up call
CS
Chavvi
Aativas
Unknown shri
Kshitij

My Questions :

1. What is the craziest thing you have done to increase your Blog followers?
2. What is the best story/poem/post you have written so far?
3. Who is your Favorite Follower?
4. One comment on your Blog that made you Rofl
5. Do you feel a compulsive need to keep updating your Blog?
6. Funniest Post you ever read.
7. Do you feel that certain comments are just to patronize you, or rather to get you to comment on their post. How do you deal with it.
8. If you had a magic lamp, what would you wish for , on your Blog
9. What is/was your dream profession?
10. If you had to snuggle up all by yourself, with a book, which one would it be, and why.
11. If you had to publish your Blog,, what would you name the book?



Thursday, January 17, 2013

Serah


Everyone in this world, is sure to have come across this emotion  - LOVE. It may have been a happily forever, or a painfully yours, or till i find the right person, kinda story. But for all these stories, the one thing that holds true is not the ordinary over rated emotion called Love, but the extraordinary people who strive hard towards placing Love on a pedestal. While many are doing so, some gain momentary happiness, or rather derive pleasure in silence. This is the story of Love, pure Love, and nothing but Love.


'He looked back at the man staring at him. Wrinkles sought refuge on his face, like they yearned to be there. He crinkled his eyes, ran his hair through his receding hairline, and winked back at the reflection in the mirror. Not bad, he thought aloud. Rajan Pillai tugged at the collar of his crisp white linen shirt and flattened invisible creases on his broad shoulder.

The wind blew in the ruffled curtains and covered his face. He sighed and looked back at the direction of the wind, and relished in the memory it bought him. A distant laughter filled his ears. He admonished the wind, and his eyes fell on a collage of pictures that adorned his wall. Serah, he whispered.'

What makes this story real? The story is real because of Serah and Rajan. They re the only factors that make this story real






This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

Sunday, January 06, 2013

....and the world was silent again

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 35; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "...and the world was silent again"



She could hear the continuous honking , the rush and commotion at the station, the noise at the market place. She could hear people screaming for help.

She woke up with a start and looked around to see her husband gesturing with his hands. She smiled back at him … and the world was silent again.



The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: VIPUL GROVER, Participation Count: 10

Friday, December 28, 2012

Pink or Black - HIgh Drama at HIgh school




Pink or Black 2 
Tishaa




So Pink or Black 2 is about a lot of kids in the 11th grade, to whom clearly emotions and relationships are of no particular importance. Our protagonist Tianna, just starts off with  a new year at school, and is bought face to face with incidents in her past.

She reveals her secret to her friends who don’t believe in keeping secrets and spill the beans, about her past in front of the whole school. (some friends eh?). She has surprises in form of her cousin Tea, who lands up in her school as the “hot new thing”, and slowly sizzles away. She plays her part, rather takes revenge in a very dramatic rather stupid manner.

Tianna’s friends are no longer her friends and start bitching about her the minute she is out of ear  - shot. Every “hot” or “good looking” guy is in “love” or has “feelings” for her. Her ex-boyfriend, breaks up with her, and can’t take the fact that she took the break-up so coolly!. I’m sorry, is the author really delusional?? .

To add more to the story, there is this set of “rival” gang with whom she is forced to eat lunch with and they become her “friends”, with whom she confides everything!!there is this on and off friendship that she shares with Leila. I’m seriously starting to think that this chick is demented or rather needs help.

Anyways so everything gets sorted out in la-la land. Realization dawns on tianna with regard to friendship and love. Sigh!!!

You know what , one word which describes this book : AVOID.

I mean where do teenagers behave this way?? Do you treat your friends indifferently just because the new “hot” guy knows your friend?? Do you treat her like crap because she has her own POV??? Well if you do , then this book is for you.

My ratings : 2/10

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com . Participate now to get free books!

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Letters to the unknown





Dear Gautam,

Honestly, I don’t even know why I am penning this down. But I guess this is going to be the only way I can pour out my heart. Right now, that’s the only thing I can do. I will not be able to see you again. I have been selected for a divine cause, my aunt , I’m sure you might remember her from the market. Anyways, so my aunt feels that I am very lucky to have been “the chosen one”. She said she has been hoping it to be her, and that she is outright jealous of me too.

But I really don’t feel lucky at all. I wanted to pursue college, you know I loved chemistry. College was special, a lot more because of you. I don’t know if you ever saw me before that accident, before I stopped college. But I did. I still remember that day when we were submitting our forms, for college. You were creating a ruckus , having an endless conversation, with a friend of yours. You were told to lower your voice by a professor, and shockingly, within minutes, that professor was eating out of your hands. Your charm, and quick wit, combined with a whacky sense of humor had made you an instant hit.

Your antics in the foyer, your helping nature, and your ability to spot books in the library did not go unnoticed. i even attended one of your English literature class, and wasn’t disappointed with your intelligent retorts. It almost had me in fits.

My eyes would constantly search for you while my brain used to hold  endless conversations with you. I even rehearsed what I would say , when we would meet. But I wasn’t prepared for the “way” we met. It was a complete mess. I was just told that I was the “chosen one”, and I was running away from everything, when I bumped into you. Imagine meeting you, when I had lost everything. I wanted to be hugged, I wanted to snuggle in your embrace and cry out, but I knew, that was never going to happen. Not anymore.

I don’t know if you or rather anyone would ever read this. I don’t know if I could stop what’s going to happen.

I was chosen to be a suicide bomber. I did not feel that I was lucky, infact when I protested, my uncle’s raped me and hit me badly. My mother and brother were also beaten black and blue till I finally agreed. All I could do was to inform the cops.

I did that at the market street, and I did see you there too Gautam. But I had many more important things to do. I tore my bag, and pretended to pick up the fallen stuff. I did that and also left behind a paper with all the details, of the time, date etc. even about my mother and brother. But I wonder how much they would be able to decipher, because even I did not know much. They always spoke in codes and clues.

I just hope that my mother and brother would be alright. I have asked them to run away, but mother says she won’t go without me. I tried to convince her, and finally she agreed. All I have to do is keep everyone’s attention.

All I pray for everyday, is for you to not be around during that explosion.I hope God hears me out.
Tomorrow Nidhi will cease to exist. Tomorrow, I would be among those charred bodies. But im happy that atleast I was able to pen my thoughts.

Love,
Nidhi.

Letters to the unknown


Dear Unknown,


It has been around 2 years, and I have failed miserably in finding out your name, or anything more about you. Whenever I tried, I was met with many obstacles. I don’t know if all of them were intentional or just mere coincidence. I’d not stick for either, because you have been way too lucky and inspiring for me.

From the first time we bumped into each other to the very second I sat down to write this, your image hasn’t changed one bit. I can vividly recall, every single detail of the first time we met. Now that I would say was “meant to happen”. How else could you explain all of that last minute changes from my end, am not sure about yours.

I was running towards my department, and the usual route was filled with new students , so I took a detour, via the chemistry department and you happened. All I remember was tripping those three stairs, and holding your hand for support, taking you along , and falling on the hard concrete. But I did not register anything during the fall, except the fear in your eyes, and the slight tremble of your lips. The way a few strands of fruit smelling hair escaped your abaya. You tried hard to let go but we were entangled in a mess. I saw a silent tear threatening to jump from those eyes. That got me back, and I helped you , rather us, stand up. I was about to apologise when you ran away. I couldn’t fathom why, maybe you were embarrassed, but I saw a lot more of fear than embarrassment, or maybe I was just over reacting.

The Chemistry department became my usual haunt, but it was two weeks and I still did not see you. I did ask around, but no one knew much. I also bumped into this guy, who threatened me with dire consequences if I came back for you. I burst into fits of laughter. Was he serious?? He seemed like one of those villains with cheesy dialogues. But his Cold look was enough for my brain, which told me it was better to keep quiet. I walked away, hoping to sight you somewhere, anywhere.

I guess it was my mind that was playing tricks, but I felt I saw you in the market street. It was two months since the episode in college. You were always on the back of my mind, maybe , my mind was in a “lets fool” him mood. But I was sure it was you , I saw you getting inside an auto. I saw the look in your eyes, when the bag bearing grocery tore open, before you entered the auto. You gingerly bent down and picked most of it, when, that lady with you, must have been your mom, shouted at you, to get inside.

The heavens aided my imagination, when you stooped down to pick the supplies. It was as though, the world or rather time came to a standstill. Everyone became a blur of moving objects. God switched on a mute button to my surroundings. It was so quiet that I could hear the rustle of your burka as you sat down to pick up the things, I could hear your every breath, slow and calm. The clanking of your bangles, and a slight fluttering of your hair. Those eyes though without a generous dose of kohl, still looked beautiful. However they seemed to hold a secret.

A ear-splitting honk bought me back to reality, and you were gone . I don’t know whether I’ll get to see you again. But you are so deeply etched in my mind that only death can erase your image.

The news flashed every hour showing blood and gore everywhere. An explosion took place at the railway station this morning. I was supposed to travel at the same time. however, the ever punctual me, woke up late, missed my bus,and missed being roasted alive. I'm sure someone up there must have prayed for me, or maybe we are destined to meet. i pray and am eagerly waiting for the day i get to bump into you again.



Love
Gautam