Fiction

Reema felt the intense heat. The  room was closed from all sides, the windows were tight shut  and the whirring sound of the fan  made her  feel   giddy.  Moreover  the  afternoons  always spawned  perennial  gloom.  She  felt like a caged bird ,mentally and emotionally atrophied.   Her 24/7 maid Radha  was  a big diversion in the family.  She regaled  with the  tales of her village life. The hardships she had faced  were beyond the  imagination in  an urban life style. But here  it was very surprising to see how easily she took  to the ease and comforts of the city life. Her entire free time ,which she had in plenty, was spent in reel making. She very quickly learnt the art of  content creation and to record the stuff.  And sometimes she would  force  Reema  to join  her  in recording the video, which she avoided , but she ...

 What is the compulsion of writing for me? It is almost five decades and I am still slogging through! The allure of the word on the page is compelling. So much is being written and so much is being said so what more need I say and what more need I write? As William Faulkner said that men may go or men may come but it's the word  that  remains. It doesn't matter who wrote Hamlet or Macbeth what matters is the great tragedies  which remain for the edification of man. So is it the desire for immortality or the urge to be acknowledged  as some one unique ..Or may be the accretion  of words accumulated  through  ages  will  some day ,blast into one big explosion  giving  rise to a resplendent universe which dazzles  with  the visions of the great  minds who have   immortalized   themselves with the power of their TRUE WORD!       

 She looked  wistfully at the white blankness of her lap top . She remembered  the days when from a very young age she had ventured  into writing secretly in  her torn notebook which she would take  out  from her school bag.  Moreover,  She hardly remembered having  filled  it with  school work. Rather she had faint memories of  ever being a regular student. And those were the  days  when the parents, in the joint families, had other cares than  to worry about  the school affairs of their children. Moreover it was the responsibility of the family elders to see that the grand children were  tutored well. The schools were far away  from  home and the children had to walk down to reach them. In the way there were many distractions ,mainly they would linger on  on the  narrow  bridge which  they had  to cross  to reach their school. They often  stood there l...