100 Words for a week. Day 4.

                     

 Unveiling Love

Seema felt a twang of doom in her rib-cage as she heard the once familiar, now forgotten name echoed across her office-floor.
"Asaf Ali Mashoor! New poet on the block. He's on the line."
She nodded furiously at her Sub-Editor, but he didn't seem to understand her agitation.
 In fifteen minutes, she put down the receiver slowly. She had agreed to edit his upcoming book, 'Unveiling Love.'

***
That weekend, Seema sat alone in her cubicle, stifling a sob.
She didn't understand what hurt her more-
that there wasn't a single word about her.
Or that the object of Asaf's affection had always been-
her older brother.

100 Words for a week. Day 3.

   Captain Craze
 The ship was in port. And the cargo was being unloaded at Argentina.
"I have to go up to the the deck now. The Captain just wired me the new co-ordinates." Hiroki chuckled at V.S.Ram.
Ram was just getting used to his Captain's name being uttered, even in passing. The poor Trainee Seaman was in awe of Captain Naresh Wadhwa, the youngest Indian Captain in his Shipping Company.
He looked up at him in awe whenever he was giving command. What stature! What masculinity!
                                                               
                                                                          ***

 Unbeknown to his wife, in his cabin, Captain Naresh Wadhwa slipped his unshaved legs through her black lace panties.

100 Words for a week. Day 2.

The Sunflower Pants

9-year old Rachel was on all fours in her backyard, helping her elder sister, Tana,  in clearing out the weeds that had crept up miraculously after the rains.

"Tana, can you please be gentle with the pixie hairs?" Rachel looked up wide-eyed at her older sibling, as Tana yanked another dead root out of her precious patch of primroses.

Tana rolled her eyes at Rachel.

Suddenly, Rachel looked down at her Sunflower printed pants.
It was blood-stained.

"I'm hurt, Tana!" Rachel looked at her sister helplessly but Tana stared back, wordlessly.

In awe and a hint of jealousy.

100 words for a week. Day 1.

   The Muse.

She looked back at Roy.
Finally seeing, after all the years.
That She had been his Muse.
This sudden realisation left her reeling and she clutched the coffee cup tighter, burning her white palm to a bright crimson- hoping that her nerves would jangle some sense back into her fingertips.
And heart.
Paul came back from the airport washroom.
"We really must get going. They have opened the gates." He smiled.
She looked at him closely, scrutinising the man she now loved.
What was so different?
The graffiti in the ladies washroom struck her hard.
It simply said-

Second-Hand Heart.

It has been
bruised, hurt, broken, crushed, torn
and thrown up and down the curves
of extreme emotion.


It has been set aflutter by meaningless words
and stilled to silence by unkind touches.

It has longed for fairytales
but not given up Hope with everyday realities presented to it.

It has questioned Humanity and then
fallen in wonder at the greatness of Creation.

I bring my Second- hand heart to you
in humility and abjection.

There are some scars on the surface
and frays at the seams.

But it loves you with all its beating power
You are the reason it wants to be redeemed.

I implore you-
Treat it kindly.
.