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TWELVE YEARS

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Viewing the sun between my fingers is a pain for my sixty-year old eyes. The forehead pains and the sun appears as a scattered yellow drop in the sky. It feels weighed and hammered by tons. But what’s much more afflictive is forgiving her – her memories.

These breezes feel like tears, the dust pinches like needles and the sun burns me to ash.

My life is lonely, heart vacant and soul unfulfilled. With every breath I take, I feel cursed and raped by destiny.

Twelve years, I am all alone but she never came back. I miss her, my darling wife, and our vow – a life together – has vanished.

The above lines are an excerpt fro, a story of mine which I wrote a couple of months ago. It’s a story about an old man reminiscing his wife who ‘betrayed’ her. Read the full, but short, story here – http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-love/love-short-story-twelve-years/

Credits-

Image from www.gloucestercitynews.net 

Edited by Kae ( http://www.fb.com/go.to.young.writers )

 

Thanks,

Ankit Raj Bachchan

RAGGED

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There were few books and incomplete assignments that he had to submit this week. Seeing them, the ache grew stronger. Without thinking much about studies, he opened the drawers and took out the pills.

He wasn’t addicted to pain-killers before but now, they were a must-have for him.

Environment. Here. The environment here was to be blamed.

He took few pills and gulped them with a glass of water.

He was in solitude and the pill traveling down his food pipe could be sensed. They had kicked his roommate out; the warden had agreed on a bottle of beer only. The doors and windows were locked and everyone was busy completing their assignments in their rooms.

Removing his spectacles, Vasu jumped on his bed and closed his eyes. It was spongy.

 

The above lines are an excerpt from a short story of mine, which was published on a short story sharing website http://www.yourstoryclub.com 

Based in a hostel, it is a story of a boy who gets bullied to such an extent in his college that he does the unbelievable. The story is a dramatized version of the real incidents that happened with a friend of my elder brother.

Word count of the story approx 1950 words

Credit – The story has been edited by https://www.facebook.com/Kae.Youngwriters

Thanks. Stay connected! 🙂

 

– Ankit Raj Bachchan

I’ll Steal Your Heart

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Finally, he opened the message and his eyes stoned on the screen.

What kind of fun? Please specify 😉

Rishi’s heart bounced to his neck. Not once had it ever crossed his mind that Arpita would reply so. She understood what fun he was talking about. She had known her to be someone who believed in enjoying such treats that life offered.

Fooling around with girls was easy for him. He flirted, he dated, he got dot down dirty and then told after a while, I think it’s not working anymore. Rishi wasn’t into commitment and tended to escape like sliding butter.

He approached life to be a fun.

Fun that comes with the tag of no-strings-attached, he quickly replied.


The above lines are an excerpt from my latest short story which can be read at 
It’s a five-minute-read about a flirt who falls head-over-heels for a very pretty and sweet girl. Do read my take on modern love of texting and chatting, and let me know if you liked it. 🙂

Credit: This short story has been edited by Kae. She has an awesome Facebook page, Young Writers. Do LIKE her page.

Thanking you,
Ankit Raj Bachchan

BLOG HOPPING FUN: INSIGHT

As, I have said earlier, I am not much of a blogger. I am just someone who enjoys reading blogs and get insight view of their life. That’s it!
But my dear blogger friend, Sandra, keeps encouraging me to write more and recently passed few questions  to me. Its called BLOG HOPPING FUN, I guess.

You can read and follow Sandra’s blog at http://quirkybooks.wordpress.com
Her posts are really an interesting read, I recommend.

So, now, before answering these questions, I wanna thank Sandra for giving me this opportunity. I have always had a fantasy being asked many questions in an interview. So,  I consider this post as my small step towards the BIG INTERVIEW!

Here are the questions and my answers :

What is the working title of your book?
Road To Leh

Where did the idea come from?

My best buddy has very dirty thinking against Muslims (he is a Hindu) and my girlfriend is a Muslim. So, I kind-of want to change his thinking, and others, against Islam.

What genre does your book fall under?

Well, I guess its romantic, funny and has wars too. Which genre does it fall in? Comment and enlighten me 😉
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I guess Aston Kutcher would be a nice choice to play the protagonist’s part.

About the girl, I think someone new would be more convincing. My story demands a new face.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

“My friend and I were so wrong; Islam is much above Jehad. It is as much holy and divine as other religions.”

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Haven’t thought about it yet.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Its still in the writing phase. Have been writing it for the past eight months. So, just wait for a month,  my baby is about to be delivered 😉 haha!

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I don’t read much, so its a PASS!
But yeah, its kind of a Chetan Bhagat thing.
Who or What inspired you to write this book?

My friend’s nasty words against Islam inspired me. I just thought how what changes will come into him if he will have to reside in a Muslim place? How would he deal with it? What would he learn if a Muslim family will give him shelter when there’s a India-Pakistan (Hindu-Muslim) war outside?

Also, Leh is a VERY beautiful place, one of the coldest deserts in the world. So, Leh would be nice backdrop for romance.

And, my darling. 🙂
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Although, I never attempt writing comedy in my short stories, I am a fun to be with. The comedy element would be the selling-point.

The End: An emotional and tragic love tale

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I turned to the window-mirror for a reflection. I wanted to check my appearance.

The sun shone brighter today. A clump of Gulmohar trees, aside the road, had beautiful red flowers. Spring had come; a wave of happiness in my life. I beheld a joy within. I always wanted to spend my life with her, to grow old with her. We had been distanced for so long, but not anymore. I was prepared for a new beginning.

I took a deep breath. I was thrilled and closed my eyes to pray.

The above lines are an excerpt from my latest short story published on http://www.yourstoryclub.com
This one, too, is being praised a lot. It has also been awarded with the Editor’s Choice tag and is contending for Story Of The Month – March, 2013.

Read the whole story at The End: Editor’s Choice

Credit: The story has been edited by Kae, a friend of mine. She has her own Facebook page which is really nice and helpful for budding writers.

LIKE her page at  Young Writers

Photo Credit: mollyucca.blogspot.com

Thanks!

Twelve Years …

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These breezes feel like tears, the dust pinches like needles and the sun burns me to ash.

With every breathe I take, I feel cursed and raped by destiny. My life is lonely, heart vacant and soul unfulfilled.

Twelve years, I am all alone but she never came back. Our vow, ‘a life together’, has vanished and I am still waiting for death to escort me.

Thinking so, my newspaper falls. I bend and kiss the ground because inside, beneath the surface of the earth, resides my sweetheart.

“Twelve years to the earthquake – 26 Jauary 2001 – Gujrat, India”, read the headline.

An excerpt from Ramayana – The Epic

Sita stared at Ram’s face. His face reflected royalty, but not the love for his distant wife. His voice had dignity but no love.

She was yearning for her husband, but found a king only.

That was the moment! ‘Hey King! I think I should not depart now. Please escort me out’, bowed Sita to Ram.

‘But, you are the queen of this kingdom.’

‘I was your wife before being the queen’

Sita raised her head to call her Mother Earth and receive her. The ground opened and Sita stepped beneath the surface of the earth, never to return back.