The poisoned love( 1 min read)

The bathroom door was open. The running tap broke the haunting silence of the room.

My grip around the wine glass tightened, my heart pounding fast, nobody will ever know.

From the faint light coming through, I could see our photographs on the wall, It’d look like natural death…don’t worry.

He was lying in the tub, a mischievous smile filled his face, ‘happy anniversary sweetheart,’ he said, stretching his hand out to me.

The poisoned glass slipped through my shaking fingers and crashed to the floor, maybe another time, my hands reached out for his.

Written by Chirasree Bose for 18 AUGUST 2017

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word count – 96

It’s been 70 years, really??

What is independence? – the ability to do what you feel is right.

But what is right? – well, you can’t decide it for yourself, it is defined as something which doesn’t seem wrong to others. Take honor killing as an example – choosing your life partner yourself is a sin, it’s a crime but killing isn’t.

I proudly call myself independent – after all I earn my living, I don’t depend on others et cetera et cetera. But last week I had to catch an early morning flight and I was to start at 2 in the morning. All of a sudden, I started feeling unsafe. What if the cab driver…? What if the bus driver…? Or what if some random drunk guy on the road…see I can’t even dare to complete the sentences.

The next day I was asked a question – why did you book an early morning flight in the first place? You’re a girl after all!!!!

I laughed it off, but it gave rise to a question – should we call ourselves independent?

70 years down the line…we’re still struggling, huh?

Anyway, it was not meant to hurt anybody’s feelings. So enjoy your day and thanks for stopping by.

It’s time to let go ( 1 min read)

'Here she is,' said the nurse handing her the baby.

Ridha gingerly took the infant in her arms, her eyes shone with tears while her lips curved into a smile..

The nurse smiled back, her eyes dropped with a feeling of pity.

'I've been dreading this moment…,' she stared at the baby for a long while, then smiled to herself, for me you were born nine months back, the day I got to know about your existence. I used to put my hands over my belly and try to hear your heart beat…people would call me silly saying you were just a lump, but I could feel you…I used to talk with you and then imagine how you'd reply in your baby voice…but honestly, you're more beautiful than I imagined…maybe this is what heaven feels like…

'It's time…,' the nurse hesitated.

…holding you in my arms and…, Ridha planted a kiss on her forehead; her tiny palm reached out to touch Ridha's cheek.

Teardrops ran down her face, she sniffled and whispered into her tiny ears – 'it's time to let go…,' a forced smile crossed Ridha's lips, '…of your surrogate mother'.

The nurse took the baby girl from her hands, 'her parents have decided to name her after you – Ridha,' she smiled.

Written by Chirasree Bose

Five minutes to twelve( 1 min read)

'It's so dark!'

'The lights are on, Granny!!' I replied.

She sighed deeply, 'your eyes aren't wise enough to see the darkness.'

I smiled to myself, Dad's rightshe talks nonsense nowadaysI unfolded the quilt placed near her feet.

'Don't you hear the murmurs?',  she asked.

'No', I replied. She grabbed my hand, 'I can see those eyes…', she whispered.

I gulped.

'Your mother…', she continued.

A shiver ran down my spine.

'…was shouting…I'd shut my door so it wouldn't reach my ears…', her eyes dropped, 'I did nothing when your father strangled her.'

I felt my head spin. My vision got blurred, 'Dad…'

'She never loved your father…how could she? Nobody can love such a beast. Her only mistake was she had the courage to say it aloud'. She added, 'I remember those lifeless eyes…she's been waiting for ages.'

Tears streamed down my face, I leaned my head against the wall.

Suddenly she let go of my hand, 'I've poisoned my son's drink…you can either go save him now or wait here till…', she closed her eyes.

The clock struck twelve; I ran up the stairs to see him die with my own eyes.

Written by Chirasree Bose for Weekly Writing Prompt #101

Dear Bestie…

Do you remember the days we used to be best friends?

I bet you do.

Do you remember the promises we made, the decisions we'd taken?

Yeah right, we were innocent.

Remember we decided not to get married ever? Huh, now you're married with two kids.

I remember you wanted to be an air hostess. Now you're a housewife.

To my surprise, I don't remember what I wanted to be. Do you?

You know what! I believe we both wanted to be happy. But are you?

Don't ask me if I'm happy. It's a tricky question. It's neither a yes nor a no.

Why don't we talk nowadays? You said you were busy with kids…really? Or…

Those days were better, weren't they? Not because we shared everything, but because we never ignored each other so we could avoid sharing everything.

I'm sure this letter would not reach you for I don't intend it to.


Your forgotten friend.


That’s how the story ended( 1 min read)

Ahana's hands shook vehemently as she looked down at the glass in her hand.

A doleful smile crossed Amit's lips as she neared him.

She tilted the head of his bed, avoiding eye contact with her husband.

Amit forced a smile, 'today I'll be free from this cage', his eyes shifted to his paralyzed body.

Ahana held out the glass, tears blurred her vision, her hands trembled.

'Won't you say goodbye?'He asked.

She shook her head as tears poured down her face.

Amit took a deep breath, 'I love you…', he leaned his head forward to drink the poison.

Word count – 99

Written by Chirasree Bose for 100 Word Wednesday: Week 30


̶5̶0̶ ̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ Be Happy( 2 min read)

I'd been sitting in the office canteen for the last half an hour; I hardly had any wish to go back to work.

All I felt like having during lunch break was a cup of coffee; I need to do something about my appetite it seems, I sighed.

I was trying to concentrate on the book in my hand; the moment my eyes fell on its cover the previous week, I knew I needed this one badly.

'Hey, can I join you?'

Suddenly the voice startled me and I looked up, my eyebrows scrunched together.

I nodded silently; he was standing across the table, holding a plate in his hands. The broad smile on his face made me even more agitated.

All I wanted was some alone time, I muttered curses under my breath and decided to leave the table.

He sat down across from me and smiled; I forced a decent smile and was about to get up when he exclaimed, '50 Ways to be Happy!!!' , then laughed out loud.

'What?' I frowned.

After checking his laughter, he said, 'it's the title of your book…', and took a big bite of his sandwich.

'What's so funny?' I could feel anger welling up inside me.

'What's this book about?' He ignored my question.

'It tells you how to be happy…' I shrugged my shoulders.

'And you still seem unhappy, grumpy, irritated…' He replied, a smirk crossed his lips.

I was stupefied by his remark, still I opened my mouth to defend myself but he interrupted.

'You know what!!…to me right now happiness is this sandwich…yummy…you must try', he grinned and then was lost in his definition of happiness.

I silently got up from the table, walked to the bin and threw both the book and the empty coffee cup into it.

Written by Chirasree Bose