Friday, September 18, 2015

Day Zero

No one knows how our country went to hell. No one actually knows when did everybody get infected. No one knows how the entire world went belly up. There are only handful of humans left in the world now, spread across different continents and countries. It is like all the zombie stories you have read and saw on TV but it's the story of India and now it's no longer a story but reality of our times. I am Amar and I am not actually immortal just a very lucky guy who somehow survived the entire ordeal and is fighting everyday to stay alive. I have few other survivors with me, there is no other way to survive, YOU CAN'T SURVIVE ALONE.

This is how it happened, at least according to me. Let's consider me official historian of humans in India. I would like to call the approximate day when the shit hit the fan as 'Day Zero'. My best guess is that the super virus was so capable that it could spread through water as well as air, so yeah it first spread through bottled water, somehow the water supply got infected. And I don't need to tell you how many bottles of water was bought before the Armageddon.

I still remember, I was in Delhi Metro that day when I noticed that almost everyone in the train was either coughing or sneezing. As usual the train was stuffed completely with people stuffed in all the cars. Rajeev Chowk was one of the busiest metro station and as soon as the train stopped there almost everyone stumbled out on the platform and within few seconds everyone was the same. Somehow I was unaffected along with few other people. And then, people started falling, almost everybody was down. And then they got up! CISF tried to stop all the people but few of them were eaten up. I was petrified by the view and tried to run out as all the movies and books came true, right in front of me.

Everyone who could get out ran out of station, I was one of the lucky ones. But the view outside wasn't much better, Connaught place was in mayhem people were running everywhere and vehicles were abandoned on the road as the path ahead was blocked as well. Bodies were spread on the roads and many of them were missing body parts but they were still trying to somehow get up again. I stared at them with eyes full of horror.

I ran and ran and ran and ran some more, when I was sure that I was free of every zombie behind me that I relaxed. and that's how I remember Day Zero. I will tell you more in the days to come. Till then Stay Alive.

Thursday, August 20, 2015


He was driving home in the evening, saw some guy on the road writhing in pain after his accident.

He didn't stop and ignored him thinking that others would help him, he wanted to reach home to his family. 

When he reached home, he found that his son wasn't home, he was late in returning from his coaching. 

The phone rang, telling him that his son had died in an accident, no one stopped to help him, and everyone ignored him.

He slumped to the floor, if only he hadn't ignored his son as well, he might be alive today.

Note - A very short story after a very long time, wanted to make it Fiction-55 but that's OK it's still short enough and it's Fiction-100 now, YAY!!!.

Sunday, June 14, 2015


This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar, the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora, the author of Lemon Girl. .

Now that I live in a multistory building in a metro city, rain always feels like a nuisance as it affects everything from my schedule, to the traffic and entire life as well. Mind you that it wasn't always the case. When I used to live with my family in a small town in a government quarter and when I was a kid, all the kids in the colony including me used to adore rain and wait eagerly for the same.

It was raining again and thus traffic was crawling, annoyed I started to notice the blurry scene outside my car window, as usual few kids were playing in the rain and water which collected on the road. Somehow that scene took me down memory lane and I was back in our small quarter in our small town.

My mom ran outside to gather the clothes that were hung there to dry, soon there were millions of water droplets started falling all around us and soon it was full fledged torrential rain. Soon there was water everywhere, since it was sunday all the kids in the colony were at home. One by one every kid in our block was out on our small road to enjoy the rain. 

Slowly we all started playing and singing aloud, it was fun we were jumping in the puddles and then washing the mud in the rain. It was bliss, rain was just pure fun and joy in our childhood.

My mom came to the door to call me inside fearing that I would fall ill but I ran up to her and grabbed her hand and pulled her outside, soon she was enjoying the rain too. It wasn't late before every mom was enjoying rain with their kid. It was a scene out of some movie, no, forget it people can't imagine such a joyful scene. 

There were various kinds of sounds coming from different groups and we all were having fun. One by one every family member was out on our road enjoying the rain and singing and enjoying with their and other's families. I believe that day it rained heavily for around 5 hours and for the entire duration of the rain entire colony was out enjoying the rain.

I don't even remember when a smile came across my face with this wonderful memory associated with rain and with a sudden jolt I noticed that the cars in front of me had moved and people were honking for me to move. I sheepishly moved my car and the traffic moved again a few feet. I wanted to step outside my car but somehow I controlled myself. But let the sunday come this sunday Monsoon would be enjoyed with the family either on the roof or on the road but it will be enjoyed. Thanks for the memories I remembered that there was a time when it used to be my favorite weather.  
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. Participation Count: 18. Image Credits: Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

His Second Murder

Before you go forward here's the part 1 - 'His First Murder'

Piyali had gotten the job at the same office where Rahul worked and she used to spend most of her day at the office avoiding Harshal. Piyali's life was hell because she had lost her love and besides understanding it she could bring herself to forgive and love Harshal. She could never look at her son because he reminded her of that terrible afternoon and she would again start shouting. 

Today was Harshal's 12th birthday and like all his previous birthdays this one was spent in pain as well, as his mom had again beat him and called him demon. In Fact Piyali had never forgotten the death of love of her life and Harshal's father Rahul by Harshal himself when he was One and a half years old. 

Of course no one believed that Harshal killed his father, everyone knew it was a freak accident but nonetheless Rahul died at the hands of Harshal and thus Piyali could never forgive her son for tearing her life apart. She knew it was unfair of her but her mind could never win the matters of heart and thus she would call him names and beat him.

Harshal knew that he killed his father after all his dear mother never let him forget that but he also had very brief flashes from his childhood from that terrible Sunday and somehow the memories didn't bring torment with them but solace, he enjoyed the feeling of peace. As he grew older and his mom grew bitterer he tried to find peace and solace among the dark corners of his mind. 

Harshal was tired of all the abuses and decided that it was time to take actions so that he could live his life in peace and so that he doesn't have to deal with his Mom who would never love him again would always treat him like an actual murderer who went scot-free. Now Harshal decided that he would have to take care of her mother and if it means killing her and it would have to do. 

Piyali came from the office, as usual Harshal was in his room deciding correctly that he should stay away from her mom's sight. Piyali went to the wine cabinet and made herself a drink like most evenings, what was different this evening was that the single drink made her lightheaded and she lost consciousness.

Harshal was waiting for this moment as he jumped from his room, he had mixed all of her mom's sleeping pills in her wine bottle and that's what had made his mom lose her consciousness. Harshal could never have a better chance he had decided this after watching many movies and as his mom lied on the floor, he picked the pillow the sofa and started suffocating his mom. For few seconds nothing happened but then Piyali's body started moving and thrashing in panic but her actions were sluggish due to all the pills in her drink and soon she stopped moving altogether. 

Harshal lay panting besides her now dead mother. He felt strangely peaceful and he thought about his life ahead and as he did so he started laughing. At the age of 12 and a half Harshal had committed his second murder.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

His First Murder

Rahul had a small family, just his wife Piyali and their One and a half year old son Harshal. They moved to a new city recently and were settling to the tone of the new city and new house.

The family was happy and husband and wife's favorite activity was to watch their son grow everyday. From his first smile, first crawl, first time he stood, his first steps to his first words they enjoyed every moment of their kid's life.

It was a Sunday and after a heavy brunch Rahul was sleeping on the floor enjoying his afternoon Siesta. Piyali was busy with the smartphone keeping in touch with her friends and family. Harshal was playing around making excited noises in between. Harshal was moving through the house playing with his toys.

Somehow Harshal got his hands on the big knife in the kitchen and started playing with it too. Piyali was busy and Harshal came to his dad to wake him up. He tried to wake him up by making those cute noise but Rahul was in deep sleep. Harshal did the next thing where everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Since Harshal had the knife in his hand he hit his dad to wake him up but the knife ended up on Rahul's throat and it hit him with the sharp edge and knife cut deep and blood started spraying through the wound. With in seconds Rahul was dead.

Piyali finally looked up from her smartphone screen and froze at the sight of Harshal and his first murder. 

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Tears Forever

This story is written for an Indiblogger Indispire topic Write a story ending with '... and the tears never stopped' #tears

They were the quintessential Soulmates, they came together during high-school and never left each other. 

They were together when they got to the college. They loved each other unconditionally and vowed that they would never be apart. 

They believed that there would be no tears of sadness only tears of joy in their union. 

Their love bore fruit when they got married and started yet another happy phase of their life.

She was working when she got the call, he was in an accident and was Dead on Arrival. She started crying and the tears never stopped.

Sunday, February 8, 2015


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 51; the fifty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Red Ink Publishers and "Curse Of The Red Soil" by Durgesh Shastri. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
"I dreamed a dream, in the time gone by." She watched the video for the 1000th of times.

She saw dream of Susan Boyle come true, and invariably tears started falling from her eyes.

She didn't want to cry for the dreams she dreamt in a different life, but sometimes she couldn't control herself.

She dreamed of becoming a dancer, ever since she was little.

Alas! her dream was shattered when a drunk driver hit her vehicle.

Resulting injuries meant that her body was paralyzed from the waist down.

And another dreamer's dreams were left unfulfilled forever.

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. Participation Count: XX

Sunday, January 4, 2015


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 50; the fiftieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ?Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

He fell in love the moment he saw her across the factory floor. She was a new joiner in their garment factory.

Few days went by while he made up his mind to talk to her and slowly they became friends. It wasn't long before he expressed his love for her and she gladly accepted.

They both loved each other a lot. Soon they were married, they were Soulmates.

Their life was perfect although they weren't very rich but they were content with what they had and happy with each other's company.

But as we all know God can't accept happiness of good people, tragedy soon struck them.

It was a usual day in their factory and everybody was busy in their work when their town was struck with an earthquake and their factory building collapsed, trapping most of the people inside. Many buildings collapsed and there was chaos all around.

Soon rescue operations began and people started helping each other shifting rubble to find survivors and finding dead bodies. There were many happy stories as people were found alive despite all the destruction. Few hours later, the cleanup work was still going.

A rescue worker shifted another slab and his eyes popped out of their sockets, he called his colleagues to see and everyone who looked couldn't stop themselves from crying.

A photographer came and captured the pictures and immortalized their love in the picture. Even in death they didn't leave each other. They died hugging each other and he trying to save her. Millions of people saw that picture and no one was left unmoved by what they saw.

They were lovebirds, they were Soulmates.

Note - This short story in inspired by the pic below which was clicked by Taslima Akhter after the Bangladesh earthquake. For me they epitomized the word Soulmates.

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. Participation Count: 17