Blue Friday: 55

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Already?

Please understand, I’m not complaining, I’m just astonished. Very well, then. Today is Friday and that means it is time to write (and read) nanofiction. I’ve become fond of this little ritual of ours, even if it seems to make the week go by far too quickly. 😉

I am elated by the amount of thought, effort and cleverness you are all displaying in our humble comments section. What some of you can fit in a mere 55 words is astounding and delightful– each piece of nanofiction tastes like a well-crafted truffle which leaves me sightless out of joy, as I savor the supple flavors.

Enough with my fawning all over you future-Salmans-and-Jhumpas, let’s get on with it!

Like last week, my title for this post is borrowed from a song–and this is no ordinary song…’twas one of my absolute faves when I was a moody teen–“Blue Monday” by New Order. Am I sad? No, but it’s so kind of you to be concerned. I’m “blue” because I thought I’d add an extra pinch of curry leaves to my weekly lit sabzi.

Today, boys and girls, ladkas and ladkis, adas and edis, we have a theme. Cease with that grumbling at once! This is just a suggestion for you to consider as you contribute your usual morsels of genius. I must say though, “blue” is a rather expansive starting point, if you’re in the mood for a little extra writing-bondage.

After the jump: my top three……from last week.

Project 37 might need to change the numerical portion of their name, if they keep up with this kind of suspenseful goodness:

She was screaming. A nightmarish sound of agony and terror rang against the echo of a promise to protect her forever. It taunted him, making that vow seem empty and meaningless. HeÂ’d never witnessed such brutality.
She fell silent. He didnÂ’t know what to do.
The doctor asked if heÂ’d like to cut the cord.

Reading thekingsingh’s 55 just now made me misty all over again, just like it did last week:

“Lakhi! Jaldi aa! You’re going to be late!” called his mother from the kitchen.
Lakhi finished tying his patka and looked himself over, trying to ignore the now purple bruise under his left eye that he got at school. Looking at his face in the mirror, he recited his daily prayer.
“Please, just leave me alone.”

Finally, Kush Tandon’s example of nanofiction gets a special shout-out because it inspired another 55, and we all know how I feel about “follow-ups“. 😉

Overheard at Delhi National Airport, while waiting for a flight.
Mrs. Mehta, a top executive at McKinsey telling her daughter over the mobile phone, “Now Pinky darling listen, tell Ayah Ma (nanny), if she speaks in her Hindi again to you, we will deduct 10 Rupees each time from her salary. Our house always English.”

Ready? On your mark, get set…BLUE!

101 thoughts on “Blue Friday: 55”

  2. I can’t think of anything blue-themed right now, but hopefully this should suffice in the meantime…..

    The dashing hero dispatched the three rogues with sword-strokes too quick to be seen; a swashbuckler extraordinaire, a man amongst mice, his acrobatics virtually supernatural in style and execution.

    He twirled his hat in salute, taking a bow.

    The princess fell to her knees, swooning. “Who ARE you ?!”

    “Puss”. An arched eyebrow. “In Boots.”

  3. mine is not 55 but here goes:

    No, I’m quite certain i don’t love you. But this space, this right here..right on the inside of your right wrist, where your thready pulse betrays our illicit passion; where beleagured Intents give rise to half-hearted Actions; where an old scar borne of Despair throbs accusingly of the deed left undone; this space that touches her in conjugal Duty ; I love this space that she has never noticed..

  4. Just for ads:

    Oh my goodness, Friday is here again. Only 2 whole days left until the weekly 5 hour break. Half an hour for each and a whole 60 minutes to cajol her into bed. But today good grief itÂ’s an important day. The new flavour arrives…with paying customers. ItÂ’s here!

    Blue Squishee.

    ”Thank you, come again!”

  5. Notes from the harmonica drifted from the guesthouse veranda to the apparition in white lighting gas lamps. Straightening her pallu, her partly veiled eyes sought his steady ones, and acknowledged the silent but doomed understanding between the ThakurÂ’s daughter-in-law and the valiant tragic hero.

    In the arid mountains, the bandits armed themselves, preparing to ride.

  7. She put her shoes away and headed towards the big hall. She adjusted the chunni on her head – it was always sliding down. There was always sadness and humility in her walk. Finally, she stopped. Her eyes sighed, and her hands folded like soft pashmina. “Please, God… I feel so empty. Give me love.”

  8. (FOR UMAIR & JAY)

    The young prince held his head in his hands, migraine thumping, his father’s words echoing in his mind.

    We do not marry dancing girls. Remember your grandfather.

    Aurangzeb wished he had never met Hira Bai, “Zainabadi”. All this humiliation…..for a woman…..a Hindu ?!

    Never again.

    He began plotting his vengeance for the decades ahead.

  10. Flashes of his blue and white painted face in battle swept across his eyes as he stubbornly refused to hear her pleas for mercy on his behalf. Tears streaming down her face, she whispered to the old, dying mute king the ultimate revenge:

    “…A child who is not of your line grows in my belly.”

  11. Entirely unrelated but are those marijuana leaves in your logo/banner thingy?

    I feel vaguely guilty that this comment is devoid of colour (or is green if anything). For that I apologize.

  12. I have realised I am really, really crap at these so I’m ducking out indefinitely. But I thought I’d say how I’ve noticed loads of people penning ethereal tales harking back to the past and conjuring misty battlegrounds, sweeping vistas, rich characters and opulent chapters from the subcontinent’s history.

    All you reincarnated souls eh?

    (55 words 😉

  14. Browsing through pictures yellowing with age, but in colour, I can see the blue walls of my childhood room, the blues of my clothes, crib, life, because convinced his firstborn would be a boy, my father had prepared accordingly.

    And then he wonders why if I had to be lesbian why I couldnÂ’t be fem.

  15. daycruz, it’s wet and rainy here and it took ALL my willpower to get out of bed today, when all I really wanted to do was sit under my down blanket with mugs of hot chocolate milk and cookies and watch the brave hearted one fight his oppressors. Instead I write short-shorts about it.

    sigh

  16. I have a problem, I can’t read the word ‘Blue’ without it resulting in me humming a particular tune. A tune from a movie that gave me nightmares for weeks. Figured I’d write 55 to divert my attention from that dang tune:

    Welcome to Lumberton, the sign declares.
    Young Jeffery finds a decaying ear. Surrounded in crimson lies Dorothy Valens. She opens the door, she lets him in. Daddy’s home, tasting of fear and nitrous. Jeffery descends into his subconscious, Sees red lips in the black darkness.. Â…And I still can see Blue Velvet through my tearsÂ…

  17. Two aunties flanked my crying mother. “Hello kuttima, Appa phone panna-la?”* I nodded. What use were empty words? I still had my father.

    A car pulled up. He ran inside, fell onto his knees in front of her: holding her, shielding her, warming her. I averted my eyes—-oh, how I envied them!

    *Hello little one, did Dad phone you?

  18. kenyandesi gets a gold blue star for her above and beyond adherence to theme! which is not to say that i wasn’t thrilled to read the non-blue 55s, they were swoon-worthy, too.

    bongsie is right– there apparently already was a theme for these. 😉 how lucky am i? moghul history is my passion.

    abhimanyu– two things:

    1) yes, depending on the logo, those are. good eyes on you! 😀

    2) ALL comments are welcome, whether or not they contain 55s or links to them on personal blogs. so squish the guilt.

  19. Friday IÂ’m in love

    When you have things to do, people to see, friends to laugh with, family to connect with, when your work has meaning and you push to do well all week, Friday means that the weekend is near and youÂ’ll have time to do all the above.

    For everyone else, there are other forms of entertainment.

    (warning, has sound)

  20. akkk!!! to stay on these this is what it’s supposed to be:

    Friday IÂ’m in love When you have things to do, people to see, friends to laugh with, family to connect with, when your work has meaning and you push to do well all week, Friday means that the weekend is near and youÂ’ll have time to do all the above.

    For those whose FridayÂ’s are blue, there is this.

  21. well, the expression of the guys in the logo did clue me in as to the nature of the foliage accompanying it

    Oh, I wasnt really feeling guilty. I’m a compulsive liar and, as a result, am constantly apologizing for things I don’t feel the need to apologize for 🙂

    Should I remove the link to the blog? I’m new to the whole blogging thing so I didnt know there was a rule against it. For that I apologize.

  22. Kenyandesi — YOU HAVE MADE MY DAY, wow my friday was blue, thanks to that video i can smile once again.

  23. akkk!!! to stay on these this is what it’s supposed to be:

    I should have stayed in bed. I’m obviously being so productive at work. I meant: “to stay on topic, this…”

  24. Constipated by days of toxic impassivity, preserved like a goofy caveman in the block of ice that was his engagement to an unknown with those o-so-grave-Brahmin expectations, he squatted above the toilet at “Passage to India”, and let his bowels do the talking, unleash the vitriol of what he thought of them, of her waiting outside with that pained look. He looked back at his deed, at the height of his macabre powers, delighted with the aching ring of fire between his buttocks that he so desperately wanted to give.

  25. I’m obviously being so productive at work.

    Oh Kenyandesi, I hear you! These are addictive, aren’t they?!

    Another one…sorry, I can’t seem to stop!

    Despite the camerasÂ’ zooming and the crowdÂ’s raucous cheering, the fan proudly displayed her ode: I heart you! Teased and prodded by his laughing teammates, the blushing bowler accepted her declarations and flung one of his own. Witnessed by a real audience, immortalized by a virtual one, their love story eclipsed an ongoing bitter rivalry.

  26. As the sun beams envelope the landscape, an iridescent glow radiated from the childrensÂ’ smiles. The sky stretched endlessly, how they often sat staring into its giant abyss wondering when the recess bell would ring.

    “Come kids, don’t eat them until we wash them”

    “Ms. Parker, I like to eat blueberries because it makes by potty blue!”

    haha

  27. (Jai Singh – busy, so I wasn’t going to play today – so this one’s for you)

    He stood alone on the palace balcony trying to accept that their monumental love had passed from this world. Forgotten forever from history. Then in the shimmering blue waters of the Yamuna a vision took shape in these words – “enter thou among my servants, enter my paradise”. He sent for the architect from Persia.

  28. His hands flailed in the labyrinthine darkness, finding only severed limbs and reeking blood. His life hung literally by a lost thread. What wouldn’t he give to see the blue sky one more time?

    His fingers grasped a familiar silk strand. Theseus sighed and headed back to his beloved Araidne.

  29. Adrenalin inundates my system, beads of perspiration percolate through skin, and my teeth clench. It happened again. Why? All that hard work and effort, wasted.

    My hopes are dashed as the windows crash one by one. A blue incandescent hue washes over, mocking me: “Now I am become Blue Screen of Death, destroyer of Chores.”

  30. That day my mother called begging me not to do it. He was home drunk as usual, and sneered, “You are a childless whore anyway. Go!”

    That day I packed two just bags, bowed to Ganesha, and left. Outside I looked at the blue sky above for the first time in years-scared but relieved.

  32. At 62 miles all Rayleigh scattering had ceased. The oppressive blue had given way to the beautiful black, as the spacecraft ascended into the gulf between man and his God.

    Outside the window he could see the curvature of the Earth, more beautiful than any curves a woman could ever possess. Imagine all the people.

  33. Do Unto OthersÂ…

    SheÂ’d outdone herself, redecorating our apartment in my favorite colour while I was away. Blue walls shimmered lit by blue candles set in blue vases. Blue lilies scattered around the room.

    Never imagining that the day she filled my life with blue, I would return the favour.

    “It’s over. I want my heirloom ring back.”

  34. Friday!

    She didnÂ’t know what happiness she expected to find at the bottom of a coffee cup (the same that people look for in endless beers and whiskeys, she supposed), but at least this way, she had company. The klatch of faces, each illuminated by a laptopÂ’s glow, made the loneliness recede just enough to make it bearable.

  35. A N N A –

    Thanks for the recognition. Here’s my contribution for this week – I tried to make this one a bit lighter than the last one, and incorporate a little blue in it too 😉

    “You kids, you got it too easy in this country!”, ranted Jagdesh. “In India, I was gold medalist in physics! Top marks in my class!”

    Neela hesitated, and then replied with a smirk.

    “So like, which Olympics was that again, Dad?”

    Jagdesh couldnÂ’t stop himself from smiling. A chip off the old block, he thought.

  36. Going to stop with the lurking. I’ll take feeling blue for 200.

    Really, this doesn’t affect her. Nothing changes. She wonÂ’t fly home. She wonÂ’t perform the last rites. She doesn’t owe him that. She won’t mourn the man who chose not to be her father. All she feels is pity for a lonely man who died too young.

    If she could only stop with the sobbing.

  37. He couldn’t stop shivering, losing all focus. The sweet ice tea albeit refreshing, was still unfulfilling. A burger, medium rare, stared right back at him. Eat me, the premium grade bovine patty beckoned. Caving, he flagged the waitress, tipped the Belgian style concoction back. “Once in a Blue Moon“, he said, falling off the wagon.

  38. Was that Him on the street? That lovely feeling wafting my way? My heart sang as the footfall landed closer. That unmistakable gait, it was Him! Leaping off the bed, I ran out to greet Him. “Hey angel!” He bellowed and shot His hand out. Whooping joyously, I leaped. But no biscuit today…only the paper.

  39. Breaking up is never easy, but…

    Last week, she had been anxious, but…

    Today, dimples pricked her cheeks. “SomethingÂ’s got a hold on me” she thought, and an ancient song commenced within. She realized why she wasnÂ’t blue– her True Faith explained it all:

    “I get this feeling I’m in motion, sudden sense of liberty.”

  40. Another one…sorry, I can’t seem to stop!

    Vidster, I’ll borrow the sensuous words of Brazilian Girls to reply…

    “Don’t Stop” (the remix is nice, too)

  41. Bang, bang, bangÂ…that was death, he thought, banging on the door of his heart, as he looked up at the whore straddling him, her face covered by her black hair, like an executionerÂ’s hood. Any last requests, she mouthed, but he couldnÂ’t exactly hear her, thatÂ’s how it is with life, you go deaf when itÂ’s time to bargain…

  42. “How do you say “I love you” in your country?” “Same as in yoursÂ….”I-Love-You.” Somehow, saying “Naan unnai Kadalikerrein” or “Mi tuzyavar prem karto” sounded too clumsy. Too contrived. Just did not express the true depth of my feelings. Maybe thatÂ’s why I never got around to telling my Dad I loved him. Too lateÂ…..

  43. Badmash — that was outstanding, poetic stuff. Thank you very much 😉

    Here’s some ‘badmaashi’ of my own — something a little subversive for those of you who are familiar with all those “Saas-Bahu” serials by Ekta Kapoor…..

    Tulsi Virani gazed around the marble-floored interior of her palatial home, an enigmatic smile hovering on her lips. The people scattered around her wondered what was causing her good-humour, their rich attire vying with the woman’s heavy silk sari.

    Was it her wealth ? Her status ?

    “I must go commando more often”, thought Tulsi.

  45. The glass felt cool on his forehead. He gazed at her under the stark flourescent lights and hoped she wasn’t freezing. He felt a touch on his shoulder, “You ok, Sir?” He turned to look at the man who had spoken. “You make mistake, officer,” he said, “You know my daughter, she never drink, never.”

  46. Reminds me of this song:

    Yo listen up here’s a story About a little guy that lives in a blue world And all day and all night and everything he sees Is just blue like him inside and outside Blue his house with a blue little window And a blue corvette And everything is blue for him and hisself And everybody around Cos he ain’t got nobody to listen to

    I’m blue da ba dee da ba die…

  49. My mother’s face glinted through the blue gloom of a winter midnight like a knife. Her narrowed eyes searched mine as worry and anger swam in equal tread across her face. Through drawn lips she asked: why? I lowered my eyes from hers and thought: all this panic for a moonlit stroll hand in hand?