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

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.

Over a cup of coffee( 2 min read)

‘So…how’s life?’ He asked as we sat across from each other.

I smiled faintly, ‘good’, I replied.

‘I didn’t think we’d meet again…’ He said leaning back in the chair.

I forced a smile, and I wish we didn’t, I thought to myself as I blew on the hot coffee cup to cool it.

We both were silent for a while; I could feel his eyes on me, which dashed me; I looked up and our eyes met for the first time. Strangely enough, none of us looked away; I always thought I’d moved on, but in no time I was proved wrong. My heart twinged with ache. I cleared my throat – ‘I’m getting married’.

He smiled broadly – ‘wow! When did all this happen…I mean…when did you -‘

I cut in, ‘it’s an arranged setup.’

He nodded, then opened his mouth but I interrupted, ‘he’s a good guy…he’s well settled…just got a new house…and’

Just as I paused, he asked, ‘Is he a good person? You should know him well before -‘

‘Didn’t we know each other well?’

He gulped.

‘Why did you cheat on me?’ I added, looking him straight in the eyes.

‘……………’

‘I always wanted to ask you this question…’ I heaved a sigh of relief, ‘It’s strange but I feel relieved now…goodbye.’

 


Written by Chirasree Bose.

I blinked my eyes and…( 2 min read)

I opened my eyes, it’s morning, I muttered curses and shut them again, I can’t live another day like this…, I gulped back the tears.

My alarm buzzed again; I turned it off; my phone rang; I put it on silent and rolled over; I opened my eyes as sleep had evaded me already.

I clutched my teddy, my best friend, my confidante.

Looking away, I saw my dead grandmother sitting at the foot of my bed; tears finally rolled down my cheeks, I sniffled. I’d loved her dearly, so did she. She remained silent, a faint smile lingered on her lips, she caressed my hands until I blinked my eyes and she was gone.

I hugged my Teddy tightly and uttered, ‘I wish you could talk…I need to talk my heart out even if it doesn’t help.’ I heaved a sigh.

My bedroom door opened, Mom entered – ‘you don’t look well’, She asked stroking my hair.

I remained silent.

‘Something’s bothering you?’

I looked at her this time; She smiled – ‘you want to talk?’

I shook my head, tears blurred my vision; her smiling face became vague yet I tried hard not to blink my eyes.

‘Yes, I want to, but you aren’t real, are you?’ I cried out, my eyes blinked.

She was gone.


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Written by Chirasree Bose for Tale Weaver #126 – Death – 29/6/17

A hated woman( 1 min read)

‘Please don’t hang up…listen to me…’, said Ishaani, wishing hard that he would listen.

He remained silent, but didn’t hang up either; Ishaani sighed with relief, ‘happy birthday…’, she added;

‘oh so you remember…I thought you even forgot that you have a…’, he paused to control the rage welling up inside him.

‘How can a mother forget her only child…I feel terrible that I couldn’t be there for you…’, she uttered, tears choked her voice.

‘Oh really…then why did you leave me…why did you leave my father…you’re a abominable woman’, her son shouted.

‘Maybe I am…but son, I tried and I did that just for you…I tried to live with a person who never valued me….I tried to love someone who hurt me again and again…I wish I could show you but, son, the scars on my body have disappeared only the ones on my soul are still unhealed…leaving you was difficult, but staying there would’ve killed my soul once and for all; would you take an advice from your abominable mother…grow up to be a man whom a woman can respect.’


Written by Chirasree Bose for FIVE SENTENCE STORY PROMPT CHALLENGE: WEEK 1

The day my life changed( 1 min read)

The clock strikes 10; my phone buzzes, I disconnect the call from work and turn my face away to stare deep into the darkness; the park is hauntingly empty at this time of the day.

‘Running away isn’t a wise choice, dear – ‘

I look in the direction the voice came from, a man sitting beside me, his face vaguely visible in the faint light; irritably, I utter, ‘Pardon?’

‘Don’t elude the reality – ‘

The calmness in his voice angers me; I reply, ‘Don’t preach to me…this job’s killing my inner self; I’m not who this job demands me to be…I’m an artist, I – ‘

‘Then bring that artist out of its grave…the real world will always try to mold you into a puppet that works as per its master’s rules; only you can listen to your inner self, so it’s your duty to keep it alive…running away from the reality isn’t what a real artist does, rather he turns the harsh face of reality into a beautiful piece of art.’

I get lost in the thoughts induced by his words; suddenly a gruff voice brings me back to the present – ‘It’s time to close the park’; it’s the security guard.

I look to my right and find the seat next to me empty; I ask, ‘Did you see someone, maybe an old man leaving the park?’

He shakes his head in utter irritation.


Written by Chirasree, a dreamer for – SIX SENTENCE STORIES