Appy Stories

 Appearances can be deceptive. My image in the mirror was telling me that. "Who is this woman staring back at me?" My numb self knocked on my mental faculties. "Clueless." Jumped the answer to my pursed lips. The mirror image portrays a woman with strewn hair and bruised nose. Her dry eyes, hollow like a parched well give a distant glance. To no one in particular they are propelling fire. A sole earing dangles from an overladen lobe. It is symbolic of the weight of guilt bearing her down. ***** "You are the best thing that has happened to me in my entire lifetime." Paritosh kissed Charvi's forehead. She closed her eyes in absolute bliss. In her ears, she could hear the shenai and happy giggles of her younger sisters. Paritosh had sneaked into her room just before the pheras and the two enjoyed a private moment to themselves before the week long celebrations began.  Charvi could not have asked for anything more. A degree in landscape architecture, a mar...

 The glowing morning sky welcomed its partner for the day, the magnificent sun. The gentle rays kissed the misty sky, waking it from the lazy slumber of night. A flock of black birds hurried past the lovely scene, sprinkling a dash of grey to the fawning sky. Their fluttering wings, entering and emerging from the foamy, cotton-ball like clouds. Jeevika, too, shuffled in her tattered razai. She covered her face to avoid being enveloped by the warm, yellow rays. "Jeevi, beta it's 7pm. Dadu, has to go to find work." "Daduuuu, little more." Smiling at Jeevika's request, Bhanu went out to sweep the courtyard. A thatched hut surrounding by a parched courtyard was not much of a work to be done. Bhanu collected the dry twigs and leaves in a cane basket which he would later hand to the farm owner on whose land he would till, till for next 3 months. It was the end of summers and soon every landlord would employ dozens of helping hands to reap the benefits of their har...

 The jet-black skies poured heavily. Big, fat raindrops break into millions of droplets as they hit hard surfaces. A teardrop, too, lost its way as it glided down her anxious cheeks. It was 11 pm and the house was glowing in the warm light of his birthday candles. The flickering flames created dancing shadows on the ribbon-adorned walls. The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon, and banana cake, joyously meandered through the kitchen. The icing had to be done. But she just didn't feel like moving. A heavy stone hung from her heart. It pulled her down by every minute as the clock was nearing 12.  What if the rains drown me, she wondered. What if like those big, fat drops my dreams, too, are shattered, she continued to fight her decision to write the letter. The ruled paper stared back at her. In the past hour, she had picked the pen innumerable times, only to lay it down on the paper without scribbling a word. A sudden gust of wind doused a few of the flickering candles. She rushed ...