The Glass Slipper

Loneliness... it got to him.
Even though he said it did not matter, how much ever he tried to convince his mind otherwise, he knew it did.
His parents worried, his friends worried. His sisters worried. And he did not show to the world, his worries.

He put up a brave face. Tormented by the prospect of will it screw me up or will it not.
He knew many beautiful girls. But he was afraid to ask them out. He knew it might end in disaster. But it might not.

Every single step in life mattered. And he did Not have a significant other.
It made him furious. He knew he would be good at this stuff.
But he had no one to prove it with.

So he spent his time between the gym,his home and work. He became fit with each passing day. His work skills improved. And he tried not to lose hope.

One day, his Cinderella in The Pumpkin Chariot would ride up.
All he had to do was wait for her glass slipper to fall off and into his hands.

Tears

Wave after wave of powerful emotions hit me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak.
All I could do was let the tears roll out.

I had just walked on to my wife cheating on me. They still hadn't noticed me, enthralled in their moment of passion.
There was this dude balls deep in her, facing away from me.
I could see her back arched, enjoying the moment. Her shapely ass hitting back at his muscular body, his hands occasionally slapping her ass.

He bend over to grab her boobs and that's when she said, let's change position.

Extracting themselves, they noticed me standing at the door.
She probably didn't see what I was holding in my hand during her frantic rush to grab on to the blanket.
He dived under the bed, presumably for his jeans or shirt. He didn't come back up from there, hiding his shame.


She was shocked. Words failed her. But I had recorded everything, or atleast the parts I had seen, in my phone. His primal grunts, her sensual moaning, him calling her name and she his... and as the final nail in the coffin... their faces.


I didn't say anything to her. She must have thought that I would want to talk about this to her.
But all I said was,'My lawyer shall contact you. You may leave this home, or you may not. But that man cannot stay here.'

He left in a hurry. She didn't.

I stayed over at a hotel nearby. She stayed at the house.

The next day, I went to my friend. He was a lawyer. He could help me out.


He asked for me to have a consulting session with a marriage counselor.

She had agreed apparently.
And I didn't say anything against it.


All the procedures followed.

Months later, I had my divorce.

And I watched in tears as the woman whom I had loved with all my heart walked away from me. She had broken it into tiny tiny pieces, but even then, when I saw her walking away... it made me cry again.


'Pussy' I scolded myself. I walked back to my car, ready for a new life, in a new city. 

The Runt

He walked with the older man, struggling to keep up with his long strides. 

Looking at the younger man through this spectacles, he did feel a tiny bit sorry for the runt. His tiny feet must be hurting and his lungs must feel like exploding... He was panting really hard. 

He slowed down, allowing the runt to catch up. He could feel the gratitude emanating from him, but he didn't want it. 

'So what do you want, runt?', he asked, keeping his tone rough. It was intentional and he liked it when there was distance between him and people. 

'Sir, I need a job at your firm', the runt said. Sir only laughed. The runt did not seem to be understand what the funny thing was, his face dead serious. 

'What job do you think you can do?' 
'I'm willing to take the job of managing your firm.' 

He was shocked, but it soon turned to mirth. The face of the runt did not change, his brave face standing strong under the merciless laugh of Sir. 

He stopped laughing when he understood that he wasn't joking. 

'What makes you qualified for a job that high up?'

'Nothing in particular... I'm educated and driven. I know I can do it.', he said, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. 'Also, my dad tells me all the time, "The Mind of a young man is like a block of marble. All it needs is a good sculptor to carve the statue out.' 

He looked at the runt when he said those words. He remembered a young man, who he had befriended a long time ago, in a distant land. His voice echoed in his ears when the runt said those words. 
Turning away to hide the tears in his eyes, he asked, 'Your father sounds wise. What is his name?'

'Ram' the runt replied. 

He didn't turn, lest the runt see the emotions in his face. 

His face in the dark, he told the runt, ' You join tomorrow. Ask for me and come to my office. And dress up well. You're going to be my assistant.' 

The runt seemed overjoyed, running to hug Sir. He didn't expect any reaction, but was pleasantly surprised when an arm extended around his torso. 

Extracting himself, the Runt bid bye to Sir and went on his way, wondering what had changed his mind. 

Line of Life

Hey,



It's a poem today. Do have a read, comment and share.



Scratching and writing again
He wrote upon the Holy Paper
Eyes red without sleep
Brain overclocked without food
'A Masterpiece' he claimed
Done at last with his work
Send down did he to Earth
A human, a newborn, crying, eyes closed
A comma missed, fullstop in wrong
Life went on, the boy did grow
The missing and the wrong made the life
The memories forever etched in his mind
Return to Him afteral at the end
His face flowing, the question raised
'A masterpiece you crafted',he exclaimed
'My life, the best in the world!',he cried



Sachin

P.S: What, or who, is the center of your life? The one thing or person you cannot live without?

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Smile of Life

Hey so it's a poem today... Not exactly a poem but some jumbled up words that just flew out of me... 

Guess it was the news of the deaths in my near family that made me write this. 

Anyways... Here goes. 

He smiled, his perfect teeth flashing in the light. 

His eyes showed no fear, his face no tears 

His children looked at him, the one with the beard and the ones without 

His son and his daughters and by the side, his wife

Thumping his chest he said, '90s the end, the book says so', 

The face hid the fear in his heart 

But the faces of his family made the fear, fear him 

Like a light shining in his heart 

Every choice reflecting his determination

Sachin

P.S: What do you think is the greatest fear of a parent?

 

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All I Ask

Guys a totally random poem today 

Do read and tell me how it is 

To love without boundaries is all I ask 

To love without pain is not what I ask 

To feel without consequences is all I ask 

To feel without justifications is all I ask 

To forget without regret is all I ask 

To forget without tears is all I ask 

To remember without pain is all I ask 

To remember without tears is all I ask 

Sachin 

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Monster in Mishra

It's a story this time... Something dark.

Do have a read and comments are appreciated. 

He stared at the window in front of him, not registering the sun going down as time went by.

He stared at the appearing moon and stars, even as he heard the sobs coming from the other room. 

He took out a cigarette and lit it, the smoke dissipating into the air. 

There were several scratch marks on his arms and a bite mark on his biceps. He took no notice of the flowing blood as he took the first puff. He finished the first cigarette and then another and then another. 

And slowly, like the sun rising over the horizon, the truth of his actions hit him. 

His eyes widened in fear. He loathed himself. He wished that his wife wouldn't hate him. He looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a monster there, with big round eyes and bleeding arms.

‘What have I done? Oh My God, What have I done?’, he asked to an invisible entity, sobbing.

‘WHAT DID I JUST DO?’ he screamed out loud. And he didn't even realize as the sobs in the other room paused for a minute, and then continued. 

He took a vase nearby and threw it onto the floor. He went near the mirror in a fit of anger and punched it, destroying the mirror, all the while screaming out of frustration and anger at himself. Blood flowed from the newly made wound on his hand. 

He took a pen and a piece of paper. With shaking hands, he wrote a letter. His eyes could be seen filling up with tears. A few of them landed on the paper but he continued writing. The blood splattered over the paper, yet he continued.

He heard a door open and then slam shut. He placed the paper on the desk after signing it and put a book on it, partially covering the letter.

A scream from the other room made him realize that she had found out.

He ran out into the hall, pushing the woman coming at him away. She lashed out at him with her handbag, hitting him over the head. She was crying and screaming, ‘How Could You? You Monster?’

He ran out of his apartment, with his wife running behind him, throwing things she could fine, bellowing at the top of her lungs. 

He ran up to the roof and stopped at the edge.

‘How could you, you monster? She was your own daughter!’

He turned and then started speaking. His eyes were full and the tears could be seen overwhelming him.

‘I know I must be the most terrible man on this earth. Tell her I'm sorry and that I love her with all my life. And Mary… I don’t deserve you. Nor this life. This is Goodbye.’

Saying that he jumped off the building, while shouting’ I'm Sorry Dear’

On the way down, he saw his daughters face, looking out of the window. He saw the tear tracks down her face and her shock in finding him falling down.

‘Forgive me dear’ he whispered, hoping that she would see. 

And with a resounding thud, he fell on to the hard pavement. 

And Mr. Mishra was no more.

Blood pooled nearby his head, overflowing into the road. The slit veins continued to pump blood, gradually stopping. Passers-by ran around frantically, someone finally calling an ambulance. 

After some time, Mary found a letter that he had written on their room drawer. It was wet in some places and also had blood splats over it.

It said,

“Mary,

I am the worst father in this world. I should have realized there was this monster living inside me. I knew it all this while and I decided to not get help.  I have done what no father ever should think of, let alone do. For this, I plead your forgiveness. I have chosen to end my life because I don’t deserve to live in this world any more. Tell our daughter I am Sorry. Raise her with pride Mary. Raise her to be as strong as you. And our son as a stronger man than me, able to control his emotions.

Pleading your forgiveness,

Forever yours loving,

Madhav Mishra“

She took it and burned it over the fire, it's flames engulfing the paper bit by bit. But the light from the flames were nothing compared to the fire of determination in her eyes.

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N.B: 

This is purely a work of fiction and not at all related to anyone I know, living or dead. I hope I have not wounded anyone through this work because that was and never will be my intention.