August 09, 2009 , 45 Comments

It was raining since last evening, rains accompanied by recurrent thunderstorm and huge lightening. There was this house in the middle of the street, a house on the crossroads. Alone she was sitting in one of the darkest corner of the house with her eyes fixed to the windows. The large crystal glass windows from where she could see the thick dense rain. It was one of her favorite spots in the house from where she used to sit and watch the splash for hours. Today also, she sat there with her eyes fixed on the windows but her vision too cluttered to see the water outside.

The sound of thunder did not bother her, for she had too many noises going in her head. She struggled for hours, days to keep them away but they refused to leave her alone. The sound of thunder did not scare her, for could not decide which was louder, which was more dreadful.

With her hands folded in prayer and her eyes looking furtively at the window, at the door, she has been waiting there for what seemed like decades now. She was not dead but she was helpless, hopeless.

She gently wiped her teary face and walked to the fire mantle. She lit the fireplace with some wood, some papers and some fabrics. Yes, the pink dress in which she looked stunning will no longer touch her. She gave it away to fire along with the red wedding sari she bought for herself. There were some dried manuscript, pictures, poetries and letters sent to the fire as her homage, as her attempt to come abreast with the blazing truth.

It was hard to see them burning but she did not want to stop it. She did not want to try preserving it anymore. It is not so easy to weave dreams and then see them falling apart; it is difficult to sustain the injury stab after stab. She accepted that the fate of the waves does not change when they hit against the rocks. “If fire is my destination, I shall fuel it” and she started tearing her diary in which she displayed the beauty of love, life and dreams in form of poetry, in forms of intangible words. The diary, which was once her best friend, her surrogate mother and guide, to whom she used to share all her inherent feelings, has now started bothering her.

She was tearing all the pages where she had poured all joys. Joy of a phone beep a lingering voice, a much-awaited meeting, her first touch and that everlasting peck. Joy of stolen kisses and silent cuddles, joy of affable admirations in his eyes, the half asleep morning hours; joy which were beyond words or expression. With one hand, she was wiping her unbroken tears and with other flipping, the pages of joys that now dig her broken soul even more.

He never promised to marry her but he always said he wanted to. He wanted to dream with her and she started weaving it with him. In his eyes, she saw the face of their unborn child. In his arms, she felt peace, security and his presence she felt that she is alive. She wanted to have a home with him, and he promised her, a home made of love. There she was madly in love with a name, an expression, a face that lit her world. She was on top of the world with his love.

The glaring fire was coming to a halt. The flame took away everything she endeared and returned back only ashes. Ashes of her dreams, their collective dreams. Ashes do not have roots to lean on but fly wherever the strong, coarse winds take them.

She has though seen her dreams gradually dusting away but still could not bring a heart to accept it. She did not want her emotions to weaken her spirits; if at all, memories have left any spirit. She rose with great force and ran back to her room. She fell flat on her bed and tried to bury her tears, her sobs in the already soaked pillow. She did not remember since how long she lay there, how long she laid crying, how long until she felt unconscious. The night was long, dark and unbearable. It struggled with darkness as little David with Goliath. She thought this night will pass soon and she would wake up to bright morning. She hoped against the hope that dawn will bring sunshine and will bring him back when she wakes up.
She lay for hours and woke to another morning with rain, thunderstorm and dark clouds.

[Crossroad is my 1st attempt at writing soft fiction. I hope to have done a fair job at it]
[Also, this is a fiction and I appreciate if you treat it just as one. Art imitates life but life should not imitate this art]

The autor is half Human, half machine. Go Figure or just revel in what I write


  1. Ekta... pain of crestfallen in love could not be explained better than wat yu have ! @ times makes me wonder if its better to curb ourself into being single rather than getting committed! Well, there always are happy endings, but the other side of that is sick! totally lost myself into this !..

  2. nicely written, perhaps you should write fiction often. your prose has some lyrical qualities which makes visualizing easier.

    A bit of Typos, which needs to be rechecked again. Otherwise a very fine attempt. Cant believe this is your first attempt. Kodos, keep writing. Cheers:))

  3. Very well described emotions. You have done a good job, and i like the subtle ray of hope that runs through the post. cheers

  4. @ hary
    Thanks but i guess it is better to fall in love and give our best shot. If things doesn't work, it is better to be alone and not chase someone who is not intended to be ours...Being single is fun! But noting like being with someone who understands us best. what say?

    @ ZB
    thanks but you inspired me to finaly write a fiction! I know typo errors but then i realized that if i concentrate too much on grammer, i lost the feelings there...But still will keep that in mind. Actually the poet in me doesnt like too many structured sentences you see:)

  5. @ ani_aset

    Thanks :)

    however i wanted but i cant keep away the ray of hope out of my words:)

  6. @ ZB

    Do let me know instances where the typo error is seen...My email id is

  7. very nicely written Ekta.. :))

    you have clearly pictured the feel of a lost one...

  8. @ Kanagu

    Thanks Buddy! Seems you are heavy into reading these days...Hary potter reviews and all...Phew must be very engaging. Nice reviews by the way.

  9. Wow! superb! the end is a bit depressin but on the whole a great effort! :)

  10. @ hemish

    Thanks time will try to write something with positive ending.

  11. hmm agreed..that sounds like a better thought :) no use falling down without a fight! :)...cya

  12. @ Hary
    Right said friend!

  13. Great first attempt :). Continue writing more. What I liked the most was that your flow didn't linger on too long at potential blocking points, and moved pretty swiftly which many find hard to do while writing fiction :).

  14. you have a lyrical style to your writing, and also your words draw a picture so reading is vivid and clear, both these qualities make a great fiction writer, and you have them both. Continue the good work, I really liked the setting.

  15. very nice first attempt. i liked it. I liked how the story unfolded and there was something new every next para.
    but i was constantly wondering what inspired u to write about such super innnntense pain. ???

  16. Very well written.I am not personally into reading fiction but this one is really good.

  17. That was a good read! :)

    And hey, Thanks for visiting my blog and commenting there! :)

  18. Well you keep bettering yourself with each new post with equally varied genres.. Good descriptions and an equally great end!

  19. @ PB aka prashant

    Thanks :)
    I would love to understand that potential blocking points from the blogger who writes an amazing fictions like you. help me:)

    @ Sujata
    Thanks a ton buddy! Keep visiting. BTW what happened to the tag?

    @ Innervoice
    Thanks. Well pain inspired me and off course the great urge to write a more empathetic fiction:)

  20. @ Yogesh, Zeba & sakhi
    thanks a ton! Hope to see more of you here:)

    @ BKC ji
    Thanks. Seeing you here after a long time!

    @ Neeraj

  21. Oh the way u have written will not make anyone believe that this really is your first attempt. Great, if this is what u can come up with in your very first attempt...them m sure the next posts are going to b dam interesting n lovely.
    Keep on writing u really have a talent!!!

  22. Nicely written! With a little bit of editing, it can be considered an awesome piece. :)

  23. Hey Ekta! Very good 1st attempt... ab doosraa kab likh rahi ho?

  24. ....She lay for hours and "woke to another morning with rain, thunderstorm and dark clouds."

    WOW - could not have a better ending...

    and look at the words: 'woke', 'another', 'morning', besides 'rain', 'thunderstorm', 'dark clouds'

  25. Ashes do not have roots to lean on but fly wherever the strong, coarse winds take them...beautiful line!!!
    loved the write, it's superb for a first attempt, hell it;s superb anyways!!!

  26. @ Nazish
    Thanks a ton! I am planning a new fiction, with a romantic happy ending...unless i change my mind to write another melo-glumo one :)

    @ Sumit
    Thanks buddy. i would like to explore that editing bit too...Pl mail me suggestion at my mail id

    @ eye in sty
    Thanks. Bahut jaldi.

  27. @ kamnashish

    Thanks! So when are we starting the project "next"?

    @ CN
    Thanks a ton buddy...was missing your comments...good to have your encouragement!

    @ Arshiya Ali
    Thanks Arshiya, keep visiting! :)

  28. Somehow I could feel the girls grief.

    Loved the narrative dear!!! Doesn't look as if it is a first attempt!!

  29. If 1st then good effort, in fact quite nice...

  30. @ Smita

    Thanks dear... You stay in you are taking ample care and protection from the pandemic.

    @ Vee

  31. Hi,

    I was tagged and so after all the hectic answering from my end I take the pleasure of tagging you.

    Hope you will have all the fun.

    Rules and details can be had from what I did here-

    Take care,
    B well,
    Urs ever,
    Yogesh Goel

  32. The tag has been taken up ekta..its on my blog now!

  33. Well said and a nice sculpt to those inner most feelings that pitter patter usually with the raindrops as though the soul found it's music. Sometimes fire ceases to arouse calmness from chillness or rain fails to drench the broken soul. Watching rain drops for a good time,makes my soul cry in pain, my tears are far warmer than that of what the clouds crashing sends down.

  34. “If fire is my destination, I shall fuel it” lovely :)
    Interesting read and it never felt that it was served by an amateur writer :)

    Keep Rocking,

  35. This was your FIRST attempt at fiction??? You kidding me right???

    Amazing portrayal of the protagonist's feelings. And the flow seemed so effortless. Brilliant job. :)


  36. Dear all

    Sorry for being away from blogs for quite a while...nixing between couple of things hence the absence.

    @ Yogesh
    I ve begin to hate tags but for you I shall try and write...not now though but sometime sure:)

    @ Sujata
    Yup, i have seen the one written by little soumya and i am completely bowled over by it too! Wonderful way to respond.

  37. @lavanya
    Thanks buddy and well said.
    Welcome to my blogs and keep visiting.

  38. @ Prashant Naidu

    Thanks, am glad that you liked it. Keep visiting.

    @ Bondgalz
    Hey shapath re, i only wrote it and am sooo glad that you liked it. Keep visiting!

  39. thank God i had your linka dn hence i m here :)

    hope all is well!

    I loved what i read!

  40. @ Americanizing desi

    Thanks a ton! :)

  41. There is a famous saying or I don't know a dialog from a movie..."Life is Stranger than a Fiction".....I almost felt you struck a story that I am seeing happening in front of me. Sometimes I think that I am so happy of not being part of such pain and sometimes I feel I so much want to part of it.......Need of Companionship is I guess Human's greatest boon and worst curse.......

    Nevertheless, I agree to some of the readers that next time you try a fiction try to end it with a +ve remark...lets think good.....Law of Attraction.....Jab Kisi Cheej ko Aap Sache Dil Se Chaho, to Puri Kaynat Lag Jaati hai Tumhe Usase Milane Me.......

  42. @ Rahul
    Sure, I will do that. Meanwhile you can read the funny posts as well. Love stories are not always positive…warna laila ke haath mein thaila hota aur majnu kisi manju ko taak raha hota. Quite crude I know. Nevertheless, try to follow the law of detachment than a feeling as remorse to be part of the pain.

    BTW do we human really need anything? Or is it just the need per se that we need?

  43. I am sure you know There is some thing called Bhagwat Gita - Talks about way of life and Bhaagwat Gita- Talks about way to death. I would definitely want to follow the law of detachment but not now, "abhi to life shuru hui hai.....I am sure detachment can wait for some more time"....

    I feel human really need a lot of things...Maslaws need hierarchy, and it is not for the sake of need. Amongst all the animates of this planet, Human child is the most dependent one, and since then human keeps needing different things from time to time. However if someone really wants, he can lead his life without any need, go sit in jungle and wait for the death to come........

  44. Amazing Ekta.A wonderfully written piece.Cant imagine this to be your first attempt.Kudos friend.Emotions of a broken heart could not have been better explained in words than this.Looking forward to more such pieces to quench our thirst of good reading.


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