Stories about Short story

A wedding game… a game no more

Fairy lights flicker near her bed and her face is aglow. Hues of green and yellow set the room ablaze but the fire is melancholic. These festivities are not of happiness, they’re the kind you see before a tortuous ritual. The fairy lights make my tears glisten and the mirror in front of me shows a woman aged beyond her years. I shake my head and continue to focus on the palm held out in front of me. I love applying henna. I love the patterns I can make, the unpredictability of my own mind is almost shattering. I know I’m ...

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Pearls of destiny… deprived

Her face glowed as she reached the gates of her college. Her eyes sparkled with ambition as she took each step towards her classroom, aided by her faithful crutches. Slowly, she approached the front desk of the class, kept her bag on the seat next to her, sat down and neatly hid the crutches under the desk. It had been another usual day for Anika. She had enjoyed every bit of her lessons, making it a point to answer all the questions she had answers to when asked by the teacher. When she didn’t know the answer, she would eagerly wait ...

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Prince Faisal’s visit to Pakistan

“I have not come here for any sort of deal with regards to the former president, Pervez Musharraf,” Prince Faisal declared to the media. He was sick and tired of these countless questions about his supposed involvement to get Musharraf out. He simply did not care – he wasn’t even sure why he was in this godforsaken country. The king and some advisors had decided that he had to go, and so he was here, just a man who was going to shake some hands, smile to the cameras, have some whiskey and go back. Even the two days he had to ...

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Into Facebook, and cyber oblivion

While sitting on the breakfast table with her family, Warda constantly kept updating her Facebook news feed on her cell phone. With each bite, she scrolled down the screen. She cherished this little virtual corner of hers, away from her family members who sat right across the table, observing her drift into cyber oblivion. Some of the posts made her smile, others transported her into deep thoughts. Throughout this period, she paid no attention to what was going on around her or what her parents were talking about. This had become a routine for her. She just didn’t feel like listening to what ...

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An alcoholic’s partner

The tangy smell of his breath dissolved the boundaries between good and evil for her. Together, the two of them had no need to be conscious of each other’s presence. What smelt good, what looked better – everything becomes meaningless, almost non-existent. It didn’t take her much time to discover alcohol’s uncanny bliss. This discovery, however, didn’t present itself like an immaculately packed gift. It grew on her, silently and gently, till she realised its advantages. There could be nothing more vulnerable than an alcoholic, she had understood that. All the moral babble she had heard so far about the fiery wrath of ...

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A mother’s reflection

On days when I would be in bed and not found going up and about the house, you would stand in the doorway of my bedroom to take a quick peek. I guess you liked checking in on me, assuring yourself that I was alright. You would ask me if I needed something and then go away to get busy in whatever you would previously be doing. You had been like this since the day you began to toddle around the house, unchanged. This has always been your habit, my daughter, my lifeline — my one and only. You are not my possession ...

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Being a nice guy

I was speeding away on my bike when I heard an agonised moan coming from a man, sprawled on the roadside. He was begging for help. I just couldn’t bring myself to drive away without stopping to see what had happened, because, let’s face it – I am Pakistani, and like all Pakistanis, I love a spectacle. I parked my bike close to the man and examined him. He was writhing in a pool of his own blood, twisting in agony. He had been hit badly and at this time of the night, I knew no one would come to ...

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