It's fiction time!

I admit I haven’t been blogging enough. What a shame! My hands itch everyday for blogging and I invest precious time contemplating on unwanted issues—yet another of my all-time favourite pastimes.

So, I decided to give myself a break and write fiction :o)

Sometimes, weaving a story is easy. But to end it is what makes it a tad difficult. This time I have tried to be more graphic in describing details. Perhaps I need to get back at reading some erotica. My ability in the same seems to suffer drastically.

There’s no real beginning or end to this one. I guess I was too inspired by Virginia Woolf’s stream of consciousness, though I must confess I ain’t no modernist. Nor do I aspire to be one. Peace!

By the way, this piece was written almost five weeks ago. Until I remembered where I had hidden it in my cluttered folder. So, it might be outdated for some.

Comments/feedback/criticism is always welcome.

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The rain doesn't help

By DR

One look at us that rainy night would have cleared any lunatic’s doubts regarding how far I have stretched it now. Maybe I was desperate. May be it happened coz deep down the line I knew this was my only chance.


My only chance. To see him. To meet him. To spend time with him. To touch him and let him touch me. To hug him and be hugged back.

Picture courtesy Google Images

The rain didn’t help. The chill, which was running down my spine every time I neared him, didn’t either. Neither did the enormity of his presence so near me.


As I inched closer, I felt warmer. As his arms surrounded me, I felt safer. As I lay my head on his shoulder, I felt lighter. The more I could hear his heart beat, the more I could feel mine. As I apologized, I wasn’t apologizing for this. I was apologizing for the fact that I can never have any of these the way I wanted it. Coz they are not, and would never be, meant for me.


As the vehicle moved towards my destination, I prayed it would never stop. I prayed it would get lost in the darkness of the night. I prayed there would be traffic on the way. Anything to delay this. I didn’t want it to end. And the fact that my destination was nearing was not going to make that happen.


I never wanted that embrace to leave me. I never wanted that touch to go. I never wanted those hands to leave me. My hands, my face.


And yet they did. And it was so final that even tears refused to make their presence felt on the face of its finality.


When we reached, I knew the time had come. I knew I had to bid him goodbye. When he hugged me back, I felt I had lost everything. Almost everything in life. He hugged me so tight I was ready to die. It wouldn’t even have mattered coz I had achieved what I thought I never deserved or was even entitled to.


I never let him go. It was getting late. He had to head back home. He had to leave. It was more final than anything.


That night, for the first time, I realized how difficult it must have been for him. 

To be in love with someone, and for so long. And here he was, with me—the woman he is not in love with; the woman he could never love. To break free of her claustrophobic obsession. To break free of her tight embrace—so tight she would have never let go had his safety not occurred her little left sense. To break free of a woman so stupid to actually give him the advantage. And willingly so.


I can still sense that hug. And when I need it, I can even re-live those fifteen seconds of warmth again. But will that quench my thirst? Yes. The rain doesn't help.

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