Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Sole Survivor


So there I was in the park, enjoying a little tipple but must have dozed off.

The midnight gong of the clock tower woke me up.  Out there on the road stood a splendid golden coach, harnessed with six cream colored horses.  The coachman wore a powdered wig and silk stockings.  There were six footmen in splendid liveries.

As the last gong sounded the coach became a pumpkin, the horses transformed into mice and the coachman into a rat.  Six lizards scurried away while a pretty beggar girl, limping in one shoe, ran past crying.

I am never drinking again. 

Written for Friday Fictioneers (episode 99). Word Count : 100

A little bit whimsicality this time to get away from the serious stuff.  Hope the Fairy Blogmother approves.

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here

Monday, November 16, 2015

War and Remembrance

PHOTO PROMPT – © J Hardy Carroll

My dearest beloved, I do not know if I will make it back home to you and the little one.  This last week we have witnessed horrors undreamt. Even Guruji’s rendition of the great war of Mahabharat had not prepared me for this carnage.  

Yesterday the sky was black with smoke and only a few houses remained standing.  Of the rest nothing was left save their charred shells.

 The young major sahib died in my arms this morning.  He asked that we not to visit him soon but in these times who can promise anything.  Remember me with no regrets.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Right so I am definitely going to be the last entry this time.  Hoping that it gets accepted by the link.
Last Wednesday was Remembrance Day.  This year 11 November marks the 97th anniversary of the Armistice which ended the First World War (1914–18).  Over one million Indian troops served overseas, of whom 62,000 died and another 67,000 were wounded. In total at least 74,187 Indian soldiers died during the war.

The experiences of the many Indian soldiers who fought in the first world war, that has just been digitised by Europeana 1914-1918 and the British Library.

To read contributions by the other Friday Fictioneers click here

Wednesday, November 04, 2015

Parched Land

PHOTO PROMPT – © Connie Gayer
When the call came he was ready.  Quickly gathering his cap, he and his men stepped out, the driver waiting as he slipped into the front seat while the men clambered into the back.             

They sat in a sullen silence as the vehicle clattered along the road.  The road, set in the rural heartland, taking them past the once busy fertile fields.  In days gone by this would have been the start of the harvest season.       

They found the body in the midst of the parched land, a pesticide bottle next to it, just another farmer who took his life.


Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

I have written a fictional version of what is a very sad scenario playing around the world these days.  Small, family farms are closing down all around the world for the past few decades with disastrous consequences for farming families.  According to the National Crime Record Bureau (NCRB) of India, as many as 5,650 farmers committed suicide in India last year. This works out to one farmer suicide in every 100 villages or one farmer suicide in every block in the country last year. One of India's leading newspapers reported this story recently.  In midst of Government apathy this journalist has been documenting these stories.

To read contributions by the other Friday Fictioneers click here