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!
A Friday:55 virgin no more! Enjoy:
“…Forever?”
He engaged her stare, causing present existence to transform into a vast sea of blue, the end of which could not be seen or comprehended. Hope and chance crashed against the sands, flowing confidently to shore then receding with haste.
“Forever”, he replied.
He pulled his gaze away from her blue eyes, unsureÂ…uncertain.
Why do they call it the pink slip? Mine is blue–official blue letterhead with black ink. ThatÂ’s how I feel, black and blue.
You shouldnÂ’t treat me this way, I didnÂ’t do anything. HeÂ’s the one who touched my thigh, myÂ…back, saying he could make me successful.
Maybe court papers come in blue too.
Okay, one more from me — in the spirit of the “Blue” theme, and also for those Mutineers who have an interest in Mughal/medieval Indian history :
The severed head was placed on the funeral pyre, surrounded by grim-faced yet resolute disciples.
The charismatic boy, seeming centuries older than his nine earthly years, ignited it with the torch.
Gobind Rai had already embraced his destiny, as the blue-turbaned man he would one day grow up to become, before he was even born.
Vidster,
Do they call “him” Jackson ?
Just kidding, nice one BTW.
I’m tipping the scale today, weighing way wordy…
IÂ’m not a philanderer, IÂ’ve been with the same girl-on-the-side for years. Where she gets it, gets me, gets my passionsÂ… Kerry just wants to get married and while IÂ’ll only admit this in the precious uninhibited thoughts before drifting to sleep, IÂ’m too much of a pussy to break off with her, just in case Michaela doesnÂ’t want to be with me. So IÂ’ve gotten sloppy about covering my tracksÂ…
“Your shirt smells funny,” Kerry mumbled.
Ooooh…DesiDancer, I was eyeing that #55 space! 🙂
“Now Adit, boys only wear blue!”
“I like that pink shirt!”
“Pink is for girls, blue is for boys!”
“But Appa, Murugan is wearing a pink veshti in that picture… earrings and lishptick too!”
“Yes, but he’s a God. You’re not. ”
“You always tell me I can be anything I want to be.”
Sigh.
Ahhhh, blue.
Today I was feeling blue. I tried to imagine that somewhere in the world was a kindred spirit who understood my longings and frustrations. Perhaps this person was a beautiful Korean woman with excellent bone structure, or a breakdancing English gentleman.
Listening to the song “I’m blue, dabadee, dabadah!” also put me into better spirits.
Hey everyone – 🙂
Title’s don’t count toward the 55 word limit, do they?
(Saint Etienne, the milke bottle symphony, and waiting for tonight):
Today is my birthday. It’s cold in my office; I’m happy in anticipation. Sitting and listening to Fantastic Plastic Machine. I’m counting down to him……….
……….I’m counting down the hours till she gets here. It’s her birthday and I made her a cake with blue icing, a swirly pattern like Kandinsky. There’s a ring inside….
Blue Balls The rain gave way to the sun as it filtered through an azure blue sky to smile upon the masses. The man walked past second and third glances, causing quite the commotion.
Distracted by his smile, her umbrella cover flew off. He was beside her suddenly.
And deftly demonstrated that “Life is good with Trust*.”
*NSFW, well for most people anyway. I on the other hand got this clip as part of my job.
I figure while I was goofing off, I may as well throw in a work reference 🙂
If theyÂ’d only play with her. If theyÂ’d invite her to dig in the sandbox, dress up, invent plays starring Care Bears, if theyÂ’d throw the frisbee to her– I know sheÂ’d do anything short of killing herself for the validation that they saw her as an equal.
“SheÂ’s not even our full cousin,” they whispered to each other, “her skin’s so weird…”
I don’t count them…but that’s a good question. Do they?
He always felt liberated when he ran in his blue & white; outrunning everyone trying to catch up. He made a mockery of the second best, scything through them untouched.
Feeling a steady rhythm today, he jumped mechanically, and absent-mindedly punched the ball past the keeper. He then snapped into reality to hear crowd go wild.
“Bring a bottle of wine and wear something uncomplicated – I’m in no mood for a struggle tonight,” rolled from Jean-Pierre’s lips like a bowling ball shooting up the return ramp, only to slow itself abruptly at the top before ka-whonking! into the balls already lined up there like all the lines she had heard before, and Sylvia knew at last that all the good ones were not married, gay, or in Mexican prisons.
you know today really is my birthday, and I love all these little 55 word nuggets of joy……
Paranoid Android said:
For a second, I thought you were writing about Quidditch!
gtf said:
Nice one! Sad and blue on so many levels…
kenyandesi, in awe. the stories, the link, etc, etc.
Paranoid Android, that’s a fitting soccer analogy in my mind! Very reminiscent of Chelsea’s Didier Drogba leaving defenders to eat his dust in a lackadasical dance brought to life as he puts the ball past the unfortunate keeper minding the goal.
she who hath inflicted thee with this potent disease,
this affliction of “55 addiction”, decrees
that titles do not count towards your total, so all, be at ease.
😉
My blue here…
A 55 for you MD (and thank you):
Baar baar din yeh ahye, Baar baar din yeh ahye/ Tum jiyo hazaaron saal, Yeah meri hai arazoon/ Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!/ Happy birthday dear MD!/ Happy birthday to you!
They all cheered and chorused, happy to celebrate along with a classy dame who so often chased away their own blues 🙂
Kenyandesi
We’ll hear of umbrella-envy soon enough )
gtf– I can’t get enough of that ad I LOVE it 😀
and it doesn’t hurt that it came out of Kenya 😉
I’ve got some more that are WILD but I can’t find them on the web. If you want them let me know (backchannel) and I’ll email them to you 🙂
come friday, i see her every where. doing 55 at 90. ohh my kenyan desi, where are thou otherwise? brilliant 55s you shower us with such ease but an error you maketh – MD dont speak no Hindi !
another set of
Blue Balls The morning moments were best. He nuzzled against her chest, her arms wrapped protectively around him, his mouth engulfing her breast hungrily, as if for the first time, as if last night he hadnÂ’t devoured her just as hungrily.
His father meanwhile, grumpily watched him muttering softly, “You just remember son. That was mine first.”
O’Ya Bula Bula Bi I lurk on other days, Waiting for Fridays to come. I miss telling kahanis*, and 55Â’s are my cure. But mistake I made not, for we have great translators. MD knows she can request one For today is her day for requests and wishes, And we are here to fulfill them *stories
to the best of my hindi-challenged ability (I learned the language watching bollywood movies):
This day comes again and again and my wish for you is that you live a thousand years. Happy Birthday 🙂
“…each piece of nanofiction tastes like a well-crafted truffle which leaves me sightless out of joy, as I savor the supple flavors”
Nice turn of phrase Anna– makes me want to reach for a Madeleine…
i adooooooooooore madeleines. and thank you. 🙂
Hello everyone! Happy Friday! It’s my first time, please be gentle 😉
Instinctively, she concealed the object in question. “Its nothing, really, I just wasn’t paying attention, and ran into the door.” “Please don’t lie. I’m a social worker, I see this all the time. It’s okay.” She hesitantly shifted her hand, revealing the black and blue of her neck, and her growing anxiety. “Didi, I’m scared.”
*didi=older sister
Thanks for the lovely words, Anna – that made my week! 🙂
The little boyÂ’s eyes were the blue of the mountains and the skies beyond them. Of the sapphires that his mom sold. But the boatman who told these fantastic tales chose to taunt his prodigious nose.
Now heÂ’s grown up and the boatman will take him across the lake to meet his bride to be.
i feel so pathetic. this friday i just dont have a creative bone in my body.
DDIA – it’s been may years since I read the book, but is that what I think it is…?
As he slept, she watched the birthmark on his back rise and fall with his breath. In the days when they were engaged, something about that odd blue blot on his right shoulderblade used to irk her. Lately when she saw it, she found herself wondering whether it irked his wife in the same way.
ok, ok so i’m over by a few words… only to slip in the blue reference though!!!
He blinked, and saw blue spots dance before his eyes. The glare of the lights (and the applause) had taken him by surpriseÂ… one last moment to rehearse the introductionÂ…
His eyes opened, ending the reverie. Heart pounding, he opened the car door, stepping out into the shadow of the Palais des Nations. “Dr. Purohit, you have arrived!” said the chauffer.
I took the shuttle to work, ten minutes for a hundred-kilometres, time at the speed of light. My office bunker is a beauty, chemical-resistant,nuclear-resistant, fool-proof, escape-proof. The cafeteria is further underground, box-under-box, world-under-ground. The sky used to be blue when I was young. I should check sometime now.
Yeah Badmash, it is.
They enjoyed their nightly tradition, the free preview for Playboy Blue.
Indignant footfalls. “What are you boys doing ?!”
Sanjay hit the remote. “Channel won’t change !”
Escalating panic. “Hit standby !”
”Volume’s stuck too. The batteries…..”
Sanjay threw the remote into Aman’s lap just as their father arrived, face like the wrath of God.
The Maharajah looked out through the jharoka window at the blue roofs of the Brahmin houses below, the faint sounds of the city wafting up to the palace.
His wife smiled back at him, aquamarine sari matching her eyes. Our descendents will rule this State for all time…..
“Your Highness ? Telegram from Sardar Patel.”
DDIA – sweet! JS’s telegram – wah wah!
DDIA– loving in pieces, through holes in sheets.
alright i got it together finally!! sorry yesterday i was a mess.
here you go:
“How about this one?”
Eagerly, he took it from her hands, stood up and unfurled the sari. “Madam, this is the latest style! It suits you!” Expertly tucking and folding, in less than a minute he modeled the sari for them.
“Eh! Blue is bad for your complexion. Nice girls wear orange!” her mother-in-law snapped.
no worries. i don’t close “55” comments ’til Monday. 😉
Wish I had seen this thread yesterday. So, I cheated… 😀
Subs with a stranger
Sitting two seats away in the Blue Lounge, he felt threatened as she told him, a complete stranger, all about her trip.
Then she mentioned her “husband and two kids”.
Immediately at ease, he warmed up to her over foot-longs and soda.
He had concluded that a married desi woman would never hit on strangers.
Some excellent stuff in here. Enjoyed(and learnt) a lot. SM has many talented folks in this respect.
M. Nam
Hey….thanks for all the birthday wishes, SMers 🙂
Fantastic microfictions, all (Jai Singh, I am awaiting your novel, it’s bound to be awesome).
Title: It’s cold here today.
“Pick up the keys.” “No.” The keys are in the gutter. He’s waiting. You smell the alcohol on his breath. “I said: pick them up.”
I’m in the bathroom. My face looks swollen. Tommorrow, I’ll leave work early. Go to —- Apts. Sit down; sign the papers. I won’t tell him. He doesn’t need to know.
Jai Singh,
The telegram one is excellent.
aarrgh! I deleted the blue part in whittling the words down. How about, using ‘Blue Apts’ to make up for it?
Sheesh.
A maelstrom raged. The giant whirlpool growled as its ferocious waters churned. Violent blue receded into the abyss along with unassuming travelers dropped in the midst, not discriminating against any: Thai, Indian, Mexican, Chinese, or Italian. Laminar blue gently trickled in, replacing the turbulent with tranquil. As Bruce Lee once said, “Be water my friend.”