Stories Varied – A Book of Short Stories

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With the addition of ‘Prey on the Prowl’ to my body of work, I thought the accretion was over without short story genre. Not that I didn’t try my hand at that, indeed I did, but finding the output wanting, I didn’t refill my pen again. Maybe, literature was keen to have my contribution in this fictional sphere as well, so it seems, as beginning from July 2015, Vinita Dawra Nagia came up with “Write India Campaign of Times of India”. Her idea was to let the aspiring writers build their stories on the ‘prompts’ provided by eleven of India’s popular authors starting with Amish Tripathi. When I penned Ilaa’s Ire on Amish’s prompt, it felt like I had crossed the unassailable frontier, and thereafter, for the next ten months, thanks to the prompts by Chetan Bhagat, Aswin Sanghi, Ravi Subramanian, Preeti Shenoy, Tuhin A. Sinha, Ravinder Singh, Durjoy Datta, Madhuri Banarjee, Jaisree Misra and Anita Nair, I had experienced the joy of short story writing.

Full Novel

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Stories Varied A book of short stories BS Murthy ISBN 9781310533877 Copyright © 2016 BS Murthy Cover design Gopi’s water color painting by Lattice Advertisers, Hyderabad. Self Imprint F-9, Nandini Mansion, 1-10-234, Ashok Nagar, Hyderabad – 500 020 Other books by BS Murthy Benign Flame – Saga of Love Jewel-less Crown - Saga of Life Crossing the Mirage – Passing through youth Glaring Shadow – A stream of consciousness novel Prey on the Prowl - A Crime Novel Onto the Stage – Slighted Souls and other stage and radio plays Puppets of Faith: Theory of Communal Strife Bhagvad-Gita: ...Read More

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Story 2 ‘201’ Qualms She sat in the Starbucks café, sipping her coffee and staring of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. [*] Being the lone customer at the half-open café, as she was trying to grapple with the unforeseen development, the creaking sound at the entrance unhinged her train of thought. As she espied a handsome youth ogling her, fervently hoping that he wouldn’t settle himself at the adjacent table, she instinctively covered the damning thing with the pallu of her chiffon sari. When a ...Read More

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Story 3 “?” I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” [*] When he slammed the door, wasn’t it like I came out of trance, stuck at ‘four’? I might’ve paused, lost to his mesmeric gait; how else he could’ve slipped out in three secs. Don’t I love his gait more than his manner, captivating though it is; he knows that as well, and yet ...Read More

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Story 4 Cupid’s Clue What the hell is going on between my husband and that bitch?' Maya's was at its lowest ebb and she was ready to burst. Sanjay knew that she was serious. 'Look, Maya. There is nothing going on between the two of them. Just a little bit of healthy flirting, I'd say.' “Flirting? Healthy flirting? Really Sanjay . . .” she rolled her eyes in disgust. “That's what you men call it? There is nothing healthy about flirting, Sanjay, not for a married man. Healthy flirting is a term introduced by perverted men who want ...Read More

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Story 5 Autumn Love She willed herself to not to check her phone to see he had replied. It had been about three days now. She hated that she was constantly checking his ‘last seen at’ status and yes, he had logged in just five minutes ago. Yet she couldn’t stop herself. This sinking feeling to find absolutely no communication from him was becoming unbearable, almost tortuous. And then, just as she sat down in her chair, her phone vibrated. With her heart thudding in her ear, she unlocked her phone and stared at the screen. Finally! It ...Read More

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Story 6 A Touchy Affair In the middle of the flight, Kiara woke up to go to washroom. When she returned, she was too lazy to push her way into the middle seat. And with Rishaan readily offering to shift seats, the seating arrangement changed. With 20 minutes still remaining for the flight to land, a sleep-starved Kiara took another power nap, this time holding Rishaan’s right hand more firmly. Rishaan’s other hand, though, nervously moved to touch Diya’s. Her heart skipped a beat. Diya pulled her hand away. But a defiant Rishaan held her wrist again, this ...Read More

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Story 7 Love’s How’s That? It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi Airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold. I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. The wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. But what I didn’t know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter. I was almost sure it ...Read More

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Story 8 A Hearty Turn “Are you sure, Rhea?” asked my mother. “Of course, I’m. Survival the fittest, mother. I’m not going against Darwin. Also I don’t want unnecessary scars on my body.” It’s a known fact that we are all born to die. And frankly, I don’t understand why it has to be made into such a big deal. If it were not for my mother, I would have said that to the bunch of people outside my house, some of them with young kids, shouting slogans, waving placards, literally wanting me to cut one of my ...Read More

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Story 9 Love Jihad Syed and Gayatri didn’t mean to fall in love. But love when you least expect it. It creeps up suddenly. When someone needs attention, care, conversation, laughter and maybe intimacy. Love doesn’t look at logic or at backgrounds and least of all religion. Gayatri was from a very conservative South Indian family that went to a temple every Saturday. Syed brought goats to his family every Eid. That said it all. Their paths would never have crossed if it hadn’t been for that fateful day. That day when he walked into the coffee shop. ...Read More

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Story 10 Tenth Nook It was the first thought that came to her as woke up. He was gone. And, soon, this bedroom, the house in whose eastern corner it sat, and the tiny garden outside with its gnarled old red hibiscus and the half-grown mango tree they had planted together, all those would be gone as well. It was the strangest feeling ever. [*] It was as though she could hear the receiver’s knock at the door, followed by the echoes of the auction bids – eighty-five lakhs, ninety lakhs, ninety-five lakhs…. , she could hear no ...Read More

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Story 11 Eleventh Hour All of us live with our past. All of us allow it shape our future. But some of us know how to shrug the past. I think that is who I am, [*] Chitra by name. But what if past catches up with the present? Well, as the moment of reckoning is dilemma, before I come to that, I will take you to my past. When I completed my course in fashion designing, fate seems to have patterned the woof and weft of my love life that was a score of years back. Landing ...Read More

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Stories Varied – A Book of Short Stories - 12 - last part

Story 12 Twelfth Tale While the media was stuck up with Shibu’s suicide, Rasika stayed from the idiot box that Xmas day. But as it went overboard the next day with Shilpa, the dalit boy’s mother, on board, she could see through the media game. That’s to antagonize dalits against the emergent rightist party that rode to power in the national election and to buttress the leftist coalition that lost its sheen. What with the election to the state assemblies round the corner, the dalit suicide seemed to be a godsend to bust the rightist dispensation. Being a ...Read More