Short Short Stories

It had not been very long since Nick had been back. His friends had missed him and he was glad to see them too. They met for lunch at Cafe Seaside on a Sunday, because unlike Nick, they had jobs on weekdays.  Adil was there, and so were Dinesh and Vinod. They were all bachelors like Nick. Adil was a journalist and Dinesh was a film editor and Vinod worked with his father running a bakery. The three of them had not met Nick for three years and were full of questions for him. Nick was happy to meet them too.  Adil went first and asked “So, how does it feel to be back Nick?”  Nick shrugged and said “It is good to be back, but it doesn’t really matter where we are, does it? I mean, no matter where you go, there you are. Hahaha!”  “Always the philosopher” piped in Vinod.  “What is the message you have for us Swamiji, now that you have got your answers” asked Dinesh.  The waiter came to take their order and they ordered a mix of Chinese dishes and starters and so...

Joseph came alive when he met Jenny, his ex-wife’s friend’s thirty year old daughter at a party. He had not felt like this in decades. She was a free spirit looking to having as many experiences as she could before her time ran out and Joseph knew that this was his window, and if he missed it, he would regret it. He was himself pushing sixty, but age did not matter at that point in his life. Here was someone who got him.  They met a few times for drinks and discovered many things that they had in common. She was an artist and had an amazing ability to express herself without the regular bullshit. She made it clear to him that she was into him and was not looking for anything serious. He was happy with that and they were soon in a fun relationship. They went out to bars, concerts, galleries, and had a wonderful time with each other.  He cooked for her and she loved the stories of his youth. She had yet to live some more to have stories of her own. She made him pose for her whil...

Gina was the most popular girl in college. She had a smile to die for, a body to try for and a mind to cry for. This simple and elegant girl would make grown men cry with her simple brilliance and the ease with which she made boys and girls hum with life. She loved life and was living proof that life was indeed worth loving. She elevated the most mundane jobs into works of art. She was fine, so fine, that you could drink her like a bottle of wine. When she walked into a room, she set hearts beating so fast, you could think it was a rave if you really listened hard. She spread joy everywhere she went. To see her once in your day was like having a refreshing dip in the ocean after a long day at work.  She rejuvenated you, she made you dream, she made you scream. She was loving and helpful, compassionate and understanding and gave herself completely to anyone who needed comfort.  There was a story about her taking care of a young homeless man for six months by letting him stay in...

I got off the truck on the outskirts of town and was filled with a mix of feelings. I was looking forward to going home to my family and friends, but I was also a little blue about my travels coming to an end. Where would I get that rush of life now?  The uncertainty of travel gave me a rush, something no nine to five routine would give me; yet I was ready to return home to see what life had in store for me.  I checked my pockets and saw that I had enough money to take a bus home. I waited for the bus and got on to the one that would take me homewards. I found a seat and sat quietly, watching the city, and as we got deeper into the city, the bustle of the city just blanked out all my thoughts. It was indeed a cacophony and I had forgotten my tune. I could no longer keep a thought in my head as the buzz of the city just got busier, louder and distracting.  After an hour of this madness I reached my destination. I got off the bus and looked around for an auto rickshaw to co...

I had never been away from home for such a long time.  It had been three years that I had been travelling all across the country; trying to find the answers to long forgotten questions. The questions no longer mattered now, it was the answers that I had stumbled upon. It was things that nobody else wanted to know about.  It was beginning to rain and I waited by the side of the highway for the next truck that would take me homewards.  The feelings of familiarity were coming back in slow waves lapping over the shore of my memories, of a past and a place I knew so well.  Everything that I had left behind when I embarked on my quest, now welcomed me back. I was happy and even looking forward to it.  I didn’t have many stories to tell, although I had met some fascinating people. These could be interesting stories if I was being honest, and they would be good over a few drinks, but the next day everybody would have forgotten them under the cloud of a hangover.  T...