Friday, January 22, 2010

My First Short Story,,,

It was dawn and she was wrapped in her bedsheet on a chilly winter day. Everyone was fast asleep and there was no hurry to get up on a Saturday. But sleep has always been a very mischievous pal that it never cooperated when needed and just clings on when time demands a wake up. So with eyes still closed, she let free the rope of her mind waver.

Priyanka always loved dreaming and believed in her dreams from childhood. The cute cartoon characters in childhood, the adventurous Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys in teens and many other stories or incidents, she would relate to herself and her life. It could be as fun as playing in snow at Swiss, being on a huge lovely beach with dear ones or as dramatic as crying for an emotional scene on the big screen.

Not much could she recollect of her childhood now, but sure she was a darling to her parents and was a pampered but not a spoilt child. But growing up her dreams has been a challenge as the reality show was scary and not just a cake walk. Her dreams were seldom very extravagant and rich, but it had a bit of everything-fun, emotions and love.

The fun of childhood days and teenage were challenged with a tough time yet she managed it well with a smile and confidence that better days are ahead.

Never would she miss any fun and seldom would you see her without a smile. And she always carried an extra pound of emotion. She would embrace anyone with friendliness and hypocorism was something she never knew it existed. Her dream extended from a favorite student to a successful professional, the delicate darling of her perfect home and it goes on….However God plays his trick, she would never move an inch from her effort of what you can call “The Ideal…Everything(?)….
In other words, persistence and if you go further, you can call it adamancy….

But today wrapped in the bedsheet is the pale Priyanka, without an ounce of energy, living a life for the sake of it. Cribbing has become more like her diet chart. Bundles of routine makes up her day but lost is the life in those bubbly eyes. The seamless love that she showers on her dear ones bring out disappointment when it demands reciprocation. Fear and agitation fills up the vaccum created in her and the half filled glass theory has long back turned out to half empty theory. Arguments have become her style of conversation and she lost the word acceptance in her dictionary. The pressure of life had stolen her dreams.

The beautiful December morning is not worth this nostalgic flashback. The sun was already shining bright and she pepped her up with a self booster so that she attempts another peaceful day, if not the happy days of her dreams.

3 comments:

  1. super o super...you can start publishing short story book...

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  2. a gud beginning, though....switch to a more delightful story...waiting for one ...

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  3. it was very touching and good as usual but this time it was really different..your posts are very creative and real..keep writing

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