Category Archives: Fiction

his love gave her words,

his absence motivation—

a writer was born

Writing

Image Courtesy: WerbeFabrik at Pixabay 

Image: CC0 Creative Commons

Where’s Papa?

Nina ate with her mouth closed, took care that very few crumbs fell on the table around her plate. She did her homework on time. She even cleaned her room.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Papa did not return home early. Not even after she called him to tell him about her best behaviour.

###

Four days! She hadn’t seen Papa for four long days. He came after she slept. And went to the office before she woke up.

She decided to catch him tonight. She wouldn’t sleep that night. Not early at any rate.

“No,” she said when mommy tried to force her into bed. “It won’t matter if you switch off the TV. I’ll just sit staring at it.”

At 8.30 she started fidgeting. Nobody worked at office till 8.30, did they? She stifled a yawn, and played with Smelly, her teddy. At 8.45, she had to physically pull her eyelids, so that they didn’t close. No use. The next thing she knew, it was 9; she was in her bed, and Papa already gone to work for the day.

###

She would catch him before he left. Waking up in the morning was easy. During school days, she woke up at 7.30. She would do it now. She set up an alarm clock for 4 O’ clock. No way Papa would ever leave before that.

Tears trickled down her cheeks the next morning, when her mum said, “why would you set up the alarm at 4? Your poor father couldn’t sleep after it woke him.”

If her Papa couldn’t sleep, the least he could have done was wake her up.

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This was a part of my assignment at a Flash Fiction Workshop. The task was to write three paragraphs/incidents which could be interchanged chronologically.

Let me know whether you like it or not. Your encouragement makes my day, and criticism makes my writing 🙂

Everyone is born different

Born different
Some are born to love;
Some are born for passion.

He might love the feel of breeze;
She creates a cyclone.
While some people live their lives,
Others need to feel alive.

Not everyone runs the same race,
Not even for the same reason.
Some covet the shiny trophy;
Others like the roadside scene.

While some aim for lofty goals,
Some just want the thrill of chase.
Not all wish to settle down,
Some are born to run free.

© (2017) Kiran Acharya

The Splendid Statue

The Splendid Statue
The misery of the sculpture… 😢 

The past

her past
When the past refuses to shut up…

A haiku

gone with the deluge…

dusty window-pane drawings

childhood mementos

© 2016 Kiran Acharya

Timeswept tale

Timeswept fairy tale

The darkest cloud

The darkest clouds