Better you hate me (2 min read)

'How may I help you ma'am?' Asked Mala, looking up from her computer screen, a faint smile crossed her lips.

Shikha sat down across the table from her, leaned forward a little and said, 'I have a question.'

'Sure ma'am…go ahead', said Mala keeping the smile intact, although she felt a little annoyed.

'Why did you abandon me?'

The question startled Maya, she scrunched her eyebrows together.

'It took me 20 years to find you…did you ever tried -'

Maya cut in – 'ma'am, other customers are waiting in line. If you have any concern regarding your account or you want to -'

'Is it because I was born out of wedlock?' Shikha scoffed.

Maya let out a deep sigh – 'if you're here just to hear it from my mouth then yes, I didn't even see your face after you were born. I never asked my family what they did with you. I still have nothing to give you. So please…', Maya motioned her towards the exit.

'I didn't expect you to accept me after all these years, I just came to see if you have any regrets, but…', she got up, sniffled hard, her eyes were filled with hatred and embarrassment.

As Maya watched her leave, she gripped the chair tightly to stop her hands from trembling, her throat dried up as the memories flashed before her eyes, I have regrets…I regret being a mother who can't even look at her child's face, all I could see in your eyes was the beast who killed every bit of my soul twenty years back…better you hate me than be called a rape victim's illegitimate child.'


Written by Chirasree Bose.

When She Diaries – Page 4

Have you ever been tired of crying?

Has it ever happened that you woke up in the morning and felt tears welling up inside but you managed to stop them? 

I'm sure it has. Didn't it feel strange? Well, it did to me.

Does that mean you're tired of fighting?

Is it like you've given in?

Or maybe you're used to it now…what is it exactly?

Actually when we're tired of something, we rest, don't we? 

We don't need to hustle all the time; we need rest, the inside voices need to regain their strength before they guide us again, the heart takes some time off before troubling us again and it's okay.

Next time someone tells you that you need to run after your dreams, just tell them that neither the dream nor the road to it is running away, I'll go at my own pace.


 

It has seen everything( 2 min read)

'Jinia, come inside…food is served.' Mom called from the kitchen window.

I had been sitting in the backyard since morning; my eyes were fixed on the spot where it all happened.

I hadn't uttered a single word ever since that incident happened. There was a strange daunting silence inside my head; it seemed like all the inside voices were shut forever.

I was about to get up from the bench when the harsh cry of the crow startled me, making me look up at it instantly, isn't it the same…it has seen everything…, my heart started beating hard.

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It sat on a branch with its eyes pointed at me and it seemed as if its loud cry was narrating the incident to the whole world. My hands started shaking; it seemed my head would explode; my vision started getting blurry when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

It was Mom; I got up and threw myself into her arms. 'It wasn't my mistake…he was beating you…', I shouted my heart out.

She put her hand on my head – 'Shh…nobody will ever know…we've buried the body', said Mom in a calm voice.

I looked back at the Crow, pointed my fingers to it – 'it saw everything, Mom…look at -'

'You're stressed out…let's go inside', she cut in.

'I hope she gets over the trauma of killing her own father… ', sighed Jinia's mother as she thought to herself, '…and never ever gets to know that I was the one who got that done through her…', she looked back, narrowed her eyes at the Crow and muttered, 'you truly have seen everything.'


Written by Chirasree Bose

It’s not the last letter, right?( 2 min read)

Finally Anshu showed up; her eyes told me she had what I had been waiting for. I heaved a sigh of relief and stretched out my hand.

My sister handed me the folded paper, her face looked haggard, eyes dropped; I swallowed hard – ‘is he…’, my voice trailed off.

She looked up, her eyes shone with tears; turning around, she dashed out of the room.

With trembling hands I unfolded the paper –

How are you, Shriya? I’ll keep it short today…

This is exactly what I wished for you. Anshu told me that Abhinav is a very good guy…

But I won’t lie… yes, I’m not happy. The very first thing that occurred to me this morning was to go stop your wedding, but…

Our story will end with this ‘but’, I guess.

Don’t worry…this is not my last letter…I think I’m gonna live for few more days.

You’ll get the last letter after I’m gone…that’ll be my goodbye…

I hope you remember your promise – you’ll never look back. 

My heart would break into pieces every time I read his letters, but this time it gave me a hope, a hope that he was still alive. I pressed the letter against my chest and broke into tears.

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Anshu peeked inside the room at her sister – ‘four days back he gave me two letters and told me to give you this one on your wedding day and to not give you the other one until I’m sure that you’re in love with your husband…’, tears rolled down her cheeks, ‘he passed away this morning…maybe he sensed that he’d, but he wanted you to know that he’s still alive so you can start your new life with a hope…’


Written by Chirasree Bose.

The smell of wet Earth( <1 min read)

‘Spread your hands…lift your toes…let your hair loose…look up at the sky…now shut your eyes and inhale the smell of wet Earth…’; she followed his instructions like a docile kid.

A moment later, she opened her eyes, shrugged her shoulders and heaved a long sigh – ‘I used to do this when I was small, you know…life was so simple back then, nah? But now…’

‘Maybe it’s still simple…it’s just that the 10 year-old you didn’t know how to complicate it…’, her counselor smiled.


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photo by Sam Burriss via Unsplash
Written by Chirasree Bose for Three Line Tales, Week 76

The day I met my husband( 1 min read)

He cleared his throat, finally breaking the awful silence prevailing for the last few minutes.

I looked at him, then shifted my eyes quickly, my palms sweating profusely.

‘I was surprised when you wanted to meet me’, he forced a laugh.

I furrowed my brows.

‘I’ve been rejected by 5 girls. You see I don’t look good, neither am I rich and you’re so elegant…beautiful…so naturally…’, he paused.

I nodded, my eyes roaming around the Cafeteria.

‘Do you like birds?’ I asked suddenly, looking at him.

‘Yes…’, he bumbled, his confused eyes fixed on mine.

‘So…what would you do if you see a beautiful bird?’

He frowned, opened his mouth but I interrupted.

‘Won’t it be great to have it caged so it can’t fly away?’

‘I’d rather watch it fly…’, he replied in a confused tone.

I smiled nervously, I’ve never heard a more perfect answer, I muttered.

‘Well, I can build a home so the bird can rest when she’s tired of flying…’ He added flirtily.


Written by Chirasree Bose.

I still wonder…what if…( 1 min read)

‘No…I don’t know you’, I blurted out and dashed to the door.

Was he still looking? I wanted to turn around, stop and see if he really was, but I didn’t – why did I not? I still wonder…

It had been ten long years; I pretended not to notice him. He, on the other hand, kept staring at me until I met his eyes. Our eyes locked for a few seconds and I relived every single moment that we had once spent together.

I lived a lifetime in those few seconds. What my life would have been like if…, a thousand questions arose in my heart, until they all were shut off by the sudden gruff voice. I instantly lowered my eyes.

My husband pushed back his chair and got up; I silently followed him.

I stopped after a few steps; Mohan was standing in my way; ‘Rihanaa?’, he uttered quietly, his eyes lit up and hovered over my face.

My throat dried up, my hands trembled.

‘No…I don’t know you’, I mumbled and darted to the door.

Ten years had passed; I still was afraid to look him in the eyes and say, ‘take me to your world…save me…please take me away…’.

What my life would have been like had I held his hand ten years back and run away…?


Written by Chirasree Bose.