Active voice

“Sindhu. Sindhu.”

Sindhu put her book down.

Who could it be now? It was 2 pm on a Sunday.

She went to the door. Nobody. Then from the house behind theirs – “Indu. Indu.”

Sindhu smiled and went back to her book. Silly me.

She had barely started reading again, when...

"Sindhu?"

She gasped. It was unmistakable. Faint, but it was her name alright. She was alone in the room. There was no way… her pulse raced, and she got off the bed slowly.

"Say something Goddammit. How long am I gonna wait?"

Huh?

Then it dawned on her. She pulled out her mobile from under the pillow. She’d kept her best friend Asha on hold, God knows for how long now.

Oh heck.

***

Curtain Call

Shamita walked to the fridge sleepily. She’d gotten used to doing it, without turning the lights on. She pulled out the water bottle, and was about to close the door, when something caught her eye in the diffused fridge light. Over at the living room window.

“Not again,” she muttered under her breath. Her father was sleep-walking again. This time he stood in the semi-darkness, looking out.

“Pa?” She wouldn’t usually talk. Just a ‘pa’ got a reaction and he turned back to his bedroom. Not tonight.

“Pa,” she called out again, her eyelids dropping. “Whatever,” she shrugged and headed back to her bedroom.

She crossed her parents’ room and absently looked in.

Pa was right there beside ma, snoring.

Her blood froze, and she slowly turned to the living room window. Somebody was still there. He turned to her for a moment. Shamita didn't move. Couldn't.

Then it was just the curtain, swaying gently in the night breeze.

***

Accident

Guru had to filter the images of the accident for his editor.

Bad scene it was. Oh, terrible. The face was unrecognizable.

And that other girl? Poor thing, kept on imploring something. Nobody listened.

Maybe she was a close friend. Sad.

Then suddenly, he frowned.

How come the girl wasn’t in any of the pictures?

***

Parents, uncles & aunts, siblings, friends and family proudly present…

Remember your eldest cousin’s marriage video? The grainy VHS tape you so lovingly spent time ‘tracking’ so the fuzzy lines would disappear? (In the process everybody else but you enjoyed the actual video, but that’s a different story). And it was a matter of pride that you owned a tape of the wedding, and whenever there was a family get-together, all we did was pull out these old tapes and play/rewind/play/…well, you get the idea.

It would be a laugh riot, some of these videos. “Dinesh Video proudly presents” the opening credits would roll – 'Radha Weds Krishna' would follow, giving way to some more tacky zig-zag background stills playing to some instrumental tune you’d heard umpteen times earlier. It was a different matter that this Dinesh guy would’ve ‘proudly’ presented weddings of the entire neighborhood as if one of his own was getting married. Ah, old times.

And today? You see a small production house in every family. Especially in school functions.  The moment the little ones get onstage, as if on cue (I don’t think so many people ever got up even for the national anthem), a dozen adults too get up and about on their feet, ready to capture their tiny tots’ mesmerizing steps on the cell phone or handycam. The others would have the backsides of these videographers ‘proudly presented’, but hey, we managed to grab it on video (the actual function, I mean). And the same at weddings, social gatherings, naming ceremonies, house-warming etc.

The archetypal ‘Dinesh’ and folks aren’t totally out of business, you know. We still get to see some of them, tagging alongside rows of guests, thrusting the arclights on nose diggers and animated talkers. But for all the photographic/videographic indulgences of relatives and friends, these ‘professional’ presenters have only gotten smarter (not to mention richer). These days you see cameras swooping down on the newly-weds from overhead ‘dolly’ cameras, sometimes close enough to hear them grumbling about how their faces ache from the constant smiling, but well, all that would go at the editing table, right?

Meanwhile -  Hello, Mr. over-enthusiastic friend with the HD cell phone camera, please mind your head – the dolly’s swooping low.

***

'Pet' Peeve...

Rani stood outside the pet store, adjusting her yellow hair band. A rabbit hopped out from inside and looked her in the eye. She had deep blue eyes, and wore a cute bow too.

Rani picked her up and went in. An old man smiled at her. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Rani nodded.

He bent down as if to let her in on a secret.

“This is nothing. I have more beauties inside. Want to see?”

Rani nodded excitedly.

“Come,” he motioned her over.

***

Jeena walked into the pet store, awed by the cute animals on display. An old man came out from inside and stood at the counter, smiling warmly.

Before she could open her mouth, a golden cocker spaniel waddled up to her feet and stared at her lovingly. Jeena gasped. Oh she was so cute.

She bent down and stroked the canine's head. The adorable thing even had a cute yellow band on her head.

Awww.

The store owner looked at her lovingly. She looked back at him.

"That's a beautiful scarf you're wearing, my dear." He grinned, his eyes glowing a faint red before turning black again.


***

Nosey Parker

A red Volkswagen pulled over beside Anand at the traffic light.

A scuffle was in progress.

He called 100.

***

The cop stopped the Volkswagen.

Inside, a kid was sniffing. A tired woman sat beside him.

The father smiled.

“He just won’t take his nose-drops.”

Huh?

The cop swore silently at Anand. “Bloody fool.”

***

Swiped

Midnight.

Deepesh stepped into the dingy ATM. Two machines. The security guy was at the other one.

Funny.

He had just swiped his card when suddenly, a body fell out of the maintenance booth.

“Holy crap,” he said.

It was the security guy. Shit, then who was at…

There was nobody at the other machine.

***

Making Faces

The washroom was empty and dimly lit.  “Be a minute”, she’d told her friends.

“Careful, these highway washrooms are haunted,” they’d ribbed her. Ha! Yeah,right.

She now made faces in the mirror.

She grinned.

Frowned.

Grinned.

She applied lipstick.

She made faces again.

Except…this time round, her reflection was doing the exact opposite expression.

***

Hostage

It was a hostage situation right out of the movies.

He held the girl at gunpoint.

“Stop,” he told the cops, “or I shoot her.”

The girl sobbed.

“Shut up,” he told her.

Then his mobile rang.

“Shit, my wife. It’s our anniversary today. Here, hold that will you?”

He gave the girl his gun.

***

Irreversible

Dinesh shah was an impatient director. He didn’t want to wait around the whole day just so some nitwit fake gun maker held him up for his special gun. He had ordered the damn thing a week ago and it still hadn’t come.

“Sona,” Dinesh called for his assistant. A wiry girl in her mid -twenties sauntered into the room.

“Call that idiot Vasudev.”

“I did, sir. He’s sending someone over in a half hour.”

“A half hour,” Dinesh grunted. “Ok, go and take care of other things.”

The film crew had stuck out at this God-forsaken place the last couple of days. Dinesh had completed other portions of the movie, while they waited for the gun to arrive. And now he just had this one scene left. He didn’t want to waste any more time and money.

A while later there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Dinesh lit his 5th cigarette and leaned against the table.

The door opened and a man, probably in his thirties, peeped in.

“Sir?”

“Are you Vasudev’s man?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on, come on, I don’t have much time.”

The man came in with a bag. He headed straight to the table and pulled out a couple of instruments.

Dinesh picked up the model he wanted and looked at it hesitantly. “This the one?”

“Yes, sir..that..”

“I know what that is. But..is this how it’s supposed to look?”

The other man nodded and shrugged.

It was a reverse gun. The main character of the movie was supposed to kill himself with it. It had the handle of a regular gun, only the barrel was pointed backwards.  Dinesh gloated over the fact that it was a first in Indian movies. Nobody had pulled this sort of a stunt before.

He held it in his hand and pointed it at the other man, who stepped back. Dinesh chuckled at the man’s naivette.

Dinesh walked to the mirror and posed in front of it, checking out how it would look on his character. He cocked his head to a side, straightened his shoulder and pulled the trigger. A quick second earlier he’d seen the man slink away. But it was too late.

The loud explosion from the barrel smashed the mirror to smithereens and Dinesh’s face burst open like a melon. There was silence and a whole lot of smoke,  for a good three minutes before the door burst open and his assistant ran in, letting out a scream loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

Aside from the crew that crowded around the dead director, there was a man who’d just arrived, with the real consignment this time, and looked nonplussed. He let go of the fake gun he was holding in his bag, and wondered how the director got himself killed with a real gun.

Outside, the man who'd arrived earlier, got into an auto rickshaw and pulled out his cell phone.

“It’s done,” he said and hung up. He loved the fact that he didn't have to lift a finger this time. Was the first time he'd pulled a stunt like this.

He smiled. The auto rickshaw guy was looking at him through the rear view mirror and smiled.

"What happened, sir? You seem happy. Did you meet a star back there?"

"Hmm? Ah, no.."

"Ok, meet the real stars then," said the driver, turning and pointing a gun at his passenger.

Before the other man could do anything, the auto driver pumped two quick slugs into the hitman, got out and walked away.

He pulled out his cell phone and said. "The score's even now."

****

Filling in...

“Roll no. 17.”

“Present, miss.”

“18.”

“Here, miss.”

Kanika looked up. That roll number belonged to Aadesh Tripathy, who was on leave. So who was this? A girl, sitting in his place, smiled at her.

Huh?

Kanika checked the register again. Aadesh Tripathy alright. So…

She looked up again, only to see a vacant seat.

****

It could happen...

Sanjay stepped out of his boss’s cabin and sighed. Thank God his story about the ‘scuffle’ he had in traffic today worked, else… There was no way on earth was he going to tell his boss about the morning show. He looked at his watch – 3.30 pm. That’s ok, he had enough time. He had this thing of convincing anybody with his stories. He beamed at himself.

He entered his cubicle when the board number rang. He pressed the speaker button.

“Yes.”

“Sir, there’s a certain ..uh, SI, to see you.”

“SI?”

“Yes, sir…”

“SI, as in police?”

“Yes, sir.”

He took it off speaker and picked up the receiver.

“But why?”

Before she replied, he heard the SI taking the receiver from her hand coming online. “Mr. Sanjay, I’d like to see you.”

“But..for what?”

“You beat a man to near-death this morning at the Alankar circle.”

“What non-sense, I wasn’t even there…”

Wait a minute, Alankar circle. But that was impossible.

A couple of minutes later, Sanjay agreed to meet the cop and hung up. His head reeled.

The alankar circle story was a product of his imagination that he’d fibbed to his boss about….and now this cop shows up. He hadn’t even told it to anybody else. How on earth could this be happening?

He walked out of his cubicle in a daze. He got into the elevator and out of it, into the visitor’s lobby.

There was no one.

He walked upto the receptionist. She smiled at him warmly.

“Yes sir?”

“Didn’t you just call me about some SI…?”

“Who, me?”

“Yes.”

“No, sir..I didn’t call you.”

“Oh, come on - it was you. A few minutes ago. I know the board number. I know your voice..”

The receptionist just gave him a puzzled look and shook her head. “No, sir.”

Sanjay went and sat down on one of the couches.

What the hell was this?

Just then he received a text message.

“It could really happen. Tell your boss the truth. Now.”

Huh?

It was from an unidentified number. In fact it didn’t look anything like a phone number. 773H? What kind of a number was that?

And then it struck him. Gobsmacked, he slowly turned the phone upside down, and looked at the number again.

A cold wave passed through him. He swallowed hard, got up and slowly walked back to his boss’s cabin.

***

A Guest Appearance

I've been penning fiction on my blog the last year and a half, and it wasn't until last year I really started experimenting with horror. And ever since I started penning these spooky tales, I've had some very interesting conversations on this topic with my co-bloggers.

One such blogger is Visha. I'm sure many of you know her.

But for those who don't, let me tell you, her blog is a mixed bag. You won't know what to expect; she doesn't specialize in any particular topic, but rest assured, her posts will always bring a smile on your face. 

Over a period of time, I discovered that Visha had a unique way of looking at almost everything. And the best part is, she is never judgmental. She merely paints her thoughts in a different color. Especially her thoughts on the supernatural. And that's what caught my attention.

I invited her to post her thoughts on my blog. She was reluctant initially, but finally agreed.  And how! :)

So...ladies and gentlemen - Presenting Visha. Please give her a big hand. :)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just Mind It

She was studying for her university exams that night in her bedroom. It was close to 2 and still there was lots to revise. Suddenly, she heard some footsteps coming from the living room.

"Who might be awake at this time?"

The fact that her parents were downstairs and she was all alone in the first floor made her a bit cautious - had thieves broken into her home?

"Ma, is that you?"

No answer.

She went out to check and saw no one.

And this happened every night. While she used to study, light footfalls could be heard.

Fear was the last thing in her mind, instead she had an interesting thought.

"Maybe the Lord was giving me company."

Smiling, she turned another page of her book.

***
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Howzzat, folks? :)

Bungler

The burglar found someone standing in front of the wardrobe.

He stood behind him and growled.

“Give it to me.”

The other guy turned, a dagger in his hand.

“Ok.” He shrugged and shoved the dagger into the burglar’s open mouth.

As he staggered back, he saw another body lying on the bed.

***

Thoughts...

Coming back to an empty house at midnight, it’s not so much the thought of entering a dark living room that gets you, but the fact that the door opens when you're about to insert the key.

***

You know you're alone at home, peering into the internet, and you sneeze. It's not so much your resounding voice that gets you, but the fact that someone behind you says "bless you", right after. Softly.

***

You're walking in the subway, alone at night- and the lights go out. It's not so much the darkness that gets you, but the fact that just before the lights went out, you saw someone appear by the wall.

***

You're watching a late night show on TV, with the lights dimmed. You want to change the channel. It's not so much the next channel that gets you, but the fact that it wasn't you who changed the channel.

***

When you walk by a graveyard at night, it's not so much the graveyard that gets you, but the fact that there's someone walking ahead of you; one who wasn't even there when you entered the road.

***

You get into an auto-rickshaw, late at  night. The driver's not misleading you. He's a good soul. But that's not what gets  you; it's the fact that he is indeed that. A soul - when you see his face on the back of his head, smiling.

****

 

Unlocked

Ritesh got into the car, at the basement of their apartment building. They had to get to the other end of town for the wedding reception, and they were already running late. He looked at his wrist watch for the 3rd time when  Alka called.

“I’m so so sorry, honey. I got stuck in this godawful meeting and… anyway, where are you?”

“In the basement, bringing the car out, just as I'd told you. Are you here yet? I’m just coming up. I'll pick you up at the gate.”

“Yeah, I'm in the building. But sweety, please give me 10 minutes? I'll dash upstairs and change my saree. Just 10 minutes.”

“Ok, but what’s wrong with the one you’re wearing. Moreover... you look good in anything.” Ritesh laughed playfully.

Alka had indeed worn a saree to office, as it was ethnic day for her team. But she wanted to change into another one.

“Ha..flattery. Are you nuts? In this saree? No way..Ok, bye.”

“Hey,wait,  listen..” Ritesh started.

But she’d hung up. Must be rushing like mad now. Ritesh hoped the elevator didn’t act up today. He also had a couple of things to tell her, but remembered just one. He wondered what the other thing was. Oh well..he’d remember. Wasn’t earth shattering anyway. He pulled the car out of the basement.

***

Alka found the door open and pushed it. God, this Preeti. How many times to remind her to lock the door from inside?

Preeti was their cook who normally came in around this time and cooked supper for them. She wondered why she was here now. They weren’t going to eat supper at home anyway. Maybe Ritesh asked her to come prepare stuff for the following morning?

She heard Preeti tinkering around with vessels in the kitchen. It was around 6.30; and some natural light was still around, so she didn’t bother with the lights. And moreover, she didn’t have the time to think. She changed quickly and came to the living room a few minutes later.

“Preeti?” She called out and headed to the door without waiting for a response.

She wore her slippers and was about to step out when she remembered she’d forgotten the keys at the dining table. Usually, Preeti handed over her set of keys to the neighbor, so Alka always kept theirs with them.

She turned and jumped out of her skin, a hand on her chest. Preeti was standing right behind her, her hand outstretched, keys in hand.

“Gosh, you scared me. Respond…at least,” She laughed nervously,  took the keys from Preeti and rushed out. She wanted to give a couple of instructions to the girl, and also warn her about the door, but she didn’t want to hold up Ritesh anymore.

“Ok…bye. Be careful around the house,” she said. Preeti smiled and nodded. She was always the quiet girl, rarely spoke. Alka left the door open and rushed down the stairs, saree and all. She wouldn’t do this normally, but today was an exception.

She was on the first floor when her cell rang. She had several missed calls on her display. She then looked at the ringing number and frowned. Ritesh.

“Yes, Ritesh?”

“Baby, have you left already?”

“Yeah..I mean, I’m on the stairs. Why?”

“I forgot my business card holder honey. Can you please get it? Rakesh wanted a few, for some of his clients. We’re meeting him at the function, so…”

“Oh, Ritesh..no,” Alka protested. “I’ve come down half way.”

“Please, baby?” Ritesh coaxed. She sighed and ran up again.

She was standing in front of their door now; noting thankfully it was locked from inside. Just then, Ritesh called again.

“What have you forgotten now?”

Ritesh laughed. “Oh nothing. Just remembered. Preeti’s father called today from her number, said she was very sick and they had to take her to the village. We should call and inquire…”

“What?” Alka said, freezing in her tracks. “That’s impossible.”

Just then, she heard a click, and the door to their flat opened on its own.

Slow... and fully wide…with a gentle creaking sound.

****

P(r)oof...!

The inspector wondered. How could a thief steal so much stuff, and disappear quietly? That too with all doors and windows of the house closed?

How?

Just then he fell with a thud, his blood rushing to his head.

His chair had vanished.

His head was still reeling when he heard the invisible snigger.

****

Spirited persuasion

Vijay opened his mailbox. 12 comments for his blog posts. He started reading them. Then he opened the last one.

“This happened with a friend of mine. I wonder what happens next.”

Vijay raised his eyebrow. Interesting. The reader hadn’t linked himself, so there was no way Vijay could hop onto the other blog, but right at the top of his inbox, was an email from the same person. He opened it.

“Vijay, it is striking how you could document this incident as a story. It’s exactly how things happened with my friend. How did you get the idea? Did you read it from the papers?”

Vijay frowned. Great. Now this guy will want to badger me with questions, copyright issues, this and that. Just because something similar happened to his friend…And Vijay had no idea the incident had appeared in the papers. Well, a strange coincidence, that’s what it was. Nothing more. Shouldn’t break your head over it a lot, he told himself.

He shut his mailbox and his laptop after about an hour and decided to hit the sack. It was late.

The cell phone rang at around 2 am. It took a while for Vijay to realize it. He got up sleepily and saw the number on the screen. Unknown number. He cut the call and went back to sleep. The phone rang again after a few minutes.

“Who the hell was this now?”

Vijay answered the call impatiently. “Who is it man, it’s …” He didn’t know the time, but knew it was an unearthly hour.

“Vijay, you have to tell me how you got the idea for the story…”

“Wha..?”

“The story. You wrote on your blog. I must say it is…”

Vijay disconnected. “Moron.”

The phone rang again. This time, Vijay got up and switched it off. “There. Keep wondering about the story now.”

A remote part of his brain was wondering about the caller though. How on earth did he get his number? He’d just about gotten back to his slumber, when the phone rang yet again.

From below the pillow, Vijay’s eyes opened weakly. And then flew wide open. “What the hell…?”

He turned and picked the phone in his hand. Same number. But that was impossible. He’d just switched it off. Maybe he hadn’t done it properly. He disconnected, and frowned. The phone hadn't been switched off. He switched it off a second time.

But then it switched back on, on its own.

And rang again. Vijay took it this time.

The caller laughed on the other end.

“Switching off the phone on my face, huh? Don’t.”

Vijay ran a hand back on his head. “Who’re you, dude? Some sort of freak?”

The caller laughed again and ignored the question.  “The important question now, Vijay, is ..who you are.  You see…” The caller paused to cough. “You’ve written a story that happened to my friend. Exactly the same way you wrote it.”

“So? That’s not my fault.”

“Yeah, but I want to know what happens next.”

“You’re kidding. Listen..I’ve no idea who you are, who your friend is, and how it happened to him, or why it happened. I wrote the story just the way it came to my mind. That’s about it. I’ve not heard it from anyone, read it from any place, or whatever else there is to it. Ok? It’s just a goddamn story that originated in my head. And now its over. There's no 'next.' Now, please leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone? No way.”

In reply, Vijay just disconnected the call again, flipped the phone open, took out the battery, the SIM card and threw it all on the floor.

“Freak.”

He sat on the edge of the bed now, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. But the silence was deafening.

“What a pity…”

Said a voice from behind.

****

Book lover

Ranveer pushed the book towards the librarian, who looked at it with a frown.

“But I thought you wanted R.L. Stine’s Who Scares You the Most?

 “Well yes, but an elderly gentleman was reading it. Didn’t have the heart…”

The librarian smiled and shrugged. “Ok, as you wish.”

Ranveer took the book and turned to leave when he saw a garlanded portrait on the wall, above the librarian.

He turned to the librarian. “Uh, sir, who’s he?” He pointed to the portrait.

The librarian looked up and smiled. “Oh, him. That’s my grandfather.”

Ranveer nodded, still looking at the portrait.

The librarian still smiling – “And he too loved reading horror books. Just like you.”

Ranveer gulped. “I’m sure he did. He’s the one reading Stine's book upstairs.”

****

Silence speaks...

Ever looked at the portrait/picture of a person, in the eye, for more than a minute? Preferably when alone?

***