image courtesy- Mr Rajkumar 1220, Flickr

Mukunda rushed merrily towards the pothar.  She would be waiting for him.

It was that time of the year when he could have two square meals a day again.

He would have his moment of glory as a dhuliya.

It was Bihu.

Divides disappeared.

The Mauzadar’a daughter would be waiting for him to dance together.

Pothar- Fields. Usually where young and old alike gathered to sing and dance and make merry.

Dhuliya- One who played the drums

Mauzadar- An influential person who is in charge of a Mauza, a division of Jillas or districts.

55 fiction is a micro fiction which attempts to depict a sort of story in just 55 words.

Fried Eye says- Below is an example of experimental write up where in four fifty five fictions have been incorporated to form one complete story. Fifty five fiction is a micro fiction limited within 55 words

The End
She gasped one last time before everything went limp and … dead. His hand grasped hers tightly willing her to live, his face contorted with rage and pain. Road traffic accidents were a major cause of deaths in that city.
She lost her life in one such accident. He , his sanity.

The Beginning of the end

Six months back she had discovered his infidelity.
Five months ago she lost hope.
Four months it was, when she went to the miracle man
Three months since he was back with her .
Two months into the affair, he was hopelessly in love with her all over again.
Last month the accident happened.

The Miracle

Four months ago The Miracle man had passed a paper and pen to her.
“Write down what you want and it will be granted”
She believed him, more because she wanted to believe that it could happen.
She wrote down obediently her wishes.
He came back
Miracle did happen but so did the curse.

The curse

The Miracle Man read it impassively.
Why?
Isn’t it obvious? She replied
He read it again just to be sure.
“I want him to come back to me, fall in love hopelessly with me to the point of no return and then I wish I Die”
“Ah! Revenge! “ and he shook his head sadly.

Looking into her deep blue eyes he smiled. They told him everything. He was meeting her for the last time. His eyes were misinterpreted, there was sadness, which bordered on madness. He told her, he was in love and it wasn’t her. She gave him her dazzling smile concealing any remorse. He thought “Was it love?”

The body was still warm.

Allegedly, he had taken on a challenge to pee under the banyan tree where ghosts were said to reside. He was last seen sitting down to pee. His last words were- “I can’t get up!”

The inquest report did mention that his shirt was buttoned to his fly.

Picture credit- Petr Katrochvil

Fried Eye note-A 55 fiction is a micro fiction written in just fifty five words. So you can realise how tough a challenge it is for the author to limit his story in just 55 words

Every good thing ends abruptly. So, this was the end of his love. He remembered the good times they had together, the times they played in the fields. Finally his mother could see this no more and asked him “When will you be normal again?” He looked at her and said “She was my dog!”

The 1^st anniversary of marriage- He vowed never to leave her

2^nd – He threatened to leave her to teach her a lesson

3^rd- He really wanted to leave

4^th- He wondered why he was still there

5^th- he realized the reason- The kid.

6^th- He finally left.

And people smiled knowingly- Aha! seventh year itch

Dejection. Despair. Broken heart. Recession. Depression.

The building. The roof. The edge. Tiny figures below.

The radio turning on.  ‘Main jindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya’.

The step back. The smile. The cigarette. The puff.

‘Har fikr ko dhuye me udaata chala gaya.’

There are people desperate for money; desperate for food, but the worst kind are the ones desperate for love. She understood this fact late, and that cost her love. The silent tears that rolled down her cheeks couldn’t wash away her grief. Finally she told her friend, “He has a girlfriend. And it’s not me”

He was extremely happy at last. She said she would be there with him no matter what. He smiled as he smelled her in his bed. She seemed aloof, but still yearned for his love. It was April, the colorful hues were everywhere. She smiled at him lazily and said in an enchanting voice “Meow”.

They knew each other for more than three years, but were still strangers. When they were parted he could still smell her brown, soft, silky skin. Only thing that he liked about being away from each other was that the stares of people had decreased. After all, a dog and a cat can’t be lovers.