C P

“Retribution” by C P

Submitted to Contest #171

It was one week after my girlfriend’s vicious coup d’état that I realized I needed to make good the weekend that I lost loitering incognito in the shady corners of the city. If you are curious about what happened, I can only summarize it by saying that it was the most wily and sinister trick ever played by any girlfriend or consort of any type in recorded human history. She tricked me into packing my bags and scooting when what I really deserved was a great weekend lounging on the couch, gulping beer and binge watching Netflix o...

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“The Darius's General” by C P

Submitted to Contest #170

It was one of those mornings when the Sun shone brightly and just when you thought you could go out with your beer can and bask in its warmth, ominous dark clouds hover, laugh at you and turn the rest of the day gloomy. I was in my elements that morning, happy hormones having a field day, birds chirping all around, gentle breeze blowing and what not. It was the beginning of the weekend, after a great party the previous night, and then an exciting night with my girlfriend. I had just settled down after my breakfast to binge watch on Netfli...

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“The longing” by C P

Submitted to Contest #169

The shadow of the leaves, cast upon the road, swung gently to the autumn breeze. I leaned over the window and looked up at the tree with its golden leaves preparing for the fall. As I watched, the wind gushed for a moment, and the first leaf of the season’s fall snapped from the tree and hurled, guided by the breeze, towards the window, hit the windowpane, slid down it and settled on the sill. It was the lustrous crimson colored red-oak leaf with its curved edges culminating in jagged pointed tips. I gently blew over the leaf and watched ...

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“the old one” by C P

Bhirgaon Railway Station is on the fringe of the Tadoba Tiger Reserve. The Railway line separating the tribal hamlet of Bhirgaon from the Reserve is the hamlet’s lifeline and only connection to the civilization. Though the railway line is a busy one, only two pairs of passenger trains, one each in the morning and the evening, stop at Bhirgaon. Every morning, men from the hamlet take the morning passenger train to Mallad, carrying wild honey, custard apples and exotic herbs, sell their produce by the day and return by the evening...

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“The Valley” by C P

Dehradun express leaves New Delhi at 0320 PM. The train is mostly on time, but I plan to reach the station at least an hour early. For someone like me, the uncertainties usually compound, and I do not take risks. There is a positive reason though, for coming here early. I love the vibe of a Railway Station, the life and zest it emanates. The innumerous chatters from every direction and every distance intermingle and hum to me in a deep soothing rumble. Over the years, I trained myself to unravel this rumble into its constituents...

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“The window” by C P

Submitted to Contest #166

It was the end of June in Mumbai. After three days of incessant rains, the monsoon relented to allow the frenzy of Mumbai life to resume. The tracks re-emerged from the swaths of overflowing waters and the local trains carried this frenzy and distributed and re-distributed it across the city. Madan was in his office, a hitherto unused corner improvised as an office by setting up partitions on two sides to give him the benefit of having an independent office matching his recently acquired stature as an officer. His crammed...

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“The Accident, The Night” by C P

The AccidentIt was a foggy winter morning in Delhi. Lata looked at the back of her palm. Specks of butter clinging against fine wrinkles of her skin. Was it because of winter, those wrinkles? she wondered as she rubbed the clinging butter to her palms. She smoothed the ball of butter she had churned, bent down and looked out of the kitchen window at the hazy sky. No trace of the Sun. Another day’s wait, she thought, to dry her wheat and get it ground. ‘Mom, Can I take your car to the college today?...

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“The Flag” by C P

Submitted to Contest #163

It was the night of 8th August 1942. Bombay was tense. Streets were deserted and an eerie gloom descended over the city. At 9 PM, on any other day, Rajitha would be playing on the street with Bhano, her classmate and neighbor, while waiting for her father who worked in a garment factory. She was waiting that day too, not on the street though, but inside her house, a single room tenement, and with a fear of uncertainty. Rajitha’s mother, Kashibai, was making rotis for her. Usually, the rotis she made were perfectly round and fluf...

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“The Club” by C P

Submitted to Contest #162

Everybody is here for something. For something they have done or believed to have done. But nobody speaks about it here.   ‘T’s just the way it is, inside the club it don’t matter anymore’, says Kaka. They call this a club. It reeks of mold and desiccated pee. But they love it here. Kaka says they’d rather be in this one than any other.   ‘Best one’, he says, ‘with a friendly neighborhood. You are lucky. Ot...

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“Betrayal” by C P

Submitted to Contest #161

It was midnight. Vicky cleared the kitchen sink and loaded the dishwasher before getting ready to sleep. He was glad it was a long weekend. He usually plans hikes or treks whenever he gets such opportunities. But this weekend he wanted to get some rest. It was a cool summer night in San Francisco. He quickly cuddles up on his bed with a warm quilt to cozy him.  After a tiresome day, the warmth acted on him fast. In no ti...

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“Now” by C P

Submitted to Contest #160

The Traffic signal at the RTC crossroads just turns red. It is the usual Friday evening traffic in Hyderabad. Suman, in his black Pajero, was at a high speed approaching the signal. He was coming from the office and not the other way around. Otherwise, he would not have stopped at the signal. “Damn!,” he says, looking out of the window at the overcast sky. He had promised to take Swarna and Lili to the park that evening. Just as the signal turns green, the phone rings. He forgot to turn on the Bluetooth of...

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