This website is in read only mode. To be the part of New YoAlfaaz community, click the button.
+2 votes
shared in Short Story by
Part 1:

After two hours, as the three musketeers sat by the fire, they were jotting down the places where Saahir might have gone, reading his old diary. Ronja returned with dinner and four glasses of brandy to beat the chill. The temperature was very low that day, so without the drink, they all would be dead cold.

“Ronja, ye sab tune banaya? (You cooked all these?)”

“Yes. Isn’t it good?”

“It is delicious! You took me back to my house at Kerala. The fragrance of curry leaves…! It reminded me of my mother.”

“After all, whose wife is she? Tarun Mallick’s, the chef’s!” Tarun, the comedian of the troop, joked. All laughed except Ronja. She smiled a little and left to make bed for her guests. In the meantime, Tarun and Bala sang the old songs that had once hit the sales in major musical stores.

“Listen, we should do something for this girl. Just look at her, we have stopped singing but still she is on her own, playing the guitar.”

“Hahaha. You’re right, Brother! She needs treatment.”

“By the way, this song’s still the same, as it was 10 years back. What lines! Kudos to Saahir!”

“Yes. But it could have been better. I told him to add few more lines but he didn’t.”

“I don’t agree with you. It is just perfect! No need to add lines, it is awesome. And why do you think adding lines would have helped? It was written and composed by Saahir, so it was his choice to decide”

Tarun's response was quite unexpected to Bala. He almost yelled with rage. “What do you mean? My advice is worthless. I don’t know how to write? You scoundrel…”

Bala clarified, “No, no! Not at all! Why are you freaking out? Chill. I just meant to say it was his composition, so it was up to him to decide…”

“Don’t beat about the bush. Come clear. You mean I don’t know how to write, am no good. Don’t you remember that I composed few songs that were hits,” Tarun was seething with rage.”

“Well, I remember, those were edited by Saahir to transform into hits,” reasoned Bala.

“W-h- a-t?”

“Yes! Don’t you know? Ok, let’s not talk about all this. Change the topic.”

Unfortunately by then, Tarun’s was mad with anger. His fist was tight. He smashed Bala’s face. It was to mark the beginning of an end.


“Who is that?”

“It’s me, Saahir.”

Saahir! Have you come back? Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

Ronja would be overwhelmed with joy when such weird things happened. She would dream of Saahir, with eyes wide open. She heard and felt him, day and night.

“You won’t see me! I am invisible. You seem sad! What happened?” It was Saahir again.

“Your absence gnaws me, always. Don’t you know? Why did you leave me all alone? I am tired of playing a good wife,” rued Ronja.

“You won’t have to do all that for long. You will come to me. Have patience,” spoke the Voice.

“What do you mean, Saahir? Kothay jacchish (where are you going)?"

Her trance broke. Just then she heard noises. “What’s wrong? Is it a fight going on? Oh, No! No, no, no, no. It can’t happen. If Tarun gets angry…I need to stop it! Suvreen! Suvreen!” Ronja hurried outside.

Part 3-
commented by
A masterpiece
commented by
Thanks Autumn :)
commented by
reshown by
Interesting story from a versatile and brilliant writer.waiting to read more.
commented by
Thanks a lot Mam
commented by
Great going! Keep it up!
commented by
Thanks Mam. Hope you read its final part.
commented by
keep it up....
commented by
Thanks a bunch

Related posts

+3 votes
0 replies 149 views
+2 votes
0 replies 117 views
+8 votes
0 replies 65 views
+4 votes
0 replies 44 views
+6 votes
0 replies 41 views
+3 votes
0 replies 19 views
Connect with us: