Ruchira's Ramblings

-Why are you here? -Why am I here? Is that all you can say? After all these years? -I do not wish to remember. -But you haven’t really forgotten, have you? - -Meera, please- -Don’t call me Meera. I don’t have a name. - … I’ve looked for you for so long—believe me, when you disappeared- -You didn’t look for me . -Oh yes I did. Listen, Meera- -I’m not Meera. The girl called Meera died years and years ago- that wasn’t me. I didn’t disappear, I just wasn’t ever there. You searched for the wrong person- she’s dead, you hear me? -I searched for you. You aren’t dead. -I’m not her. -Of course not. You are you. And it’s you I’ve been looking for, it’s you I want. -Yes, as a replacement. -No, as a sister. -Sorry to disappoint. I’m nobody’s sister. I’m not the daughter of anybody’s parents. You , of all people should know that. -You are my sister. That-that house you left, it’s as much your house as it’s mine. Let’s go home, Meera. -You did so well till the last word. -What do...

“Lend you my batmobile? You gotta be kidding, right?” The Batman exclaimed, glaring at me with equal amounts of outrage and disbelief. “You’re taking the batcopter, so you can spare-” “Do you even know how to hold a steering wheel?” “Don’t think there are any flipper compatible ones, Bruce,” the CatWoman sniggered, “I dare say even Wayne Industries is yet to come up with one.” I ignored the collective jibes that followed and tried to plead once more. “I can peck at the button controls. Look, how else am I going to deliver gifts in time to so many people?” How does Santa do it every year, anyway? Note to Self: Find out working up plans from reindeers. Must find one first though, opposite poles! “I don’t care,” Batman replied, “You’re not going anywhere near any of my cars.” This is so damn selfish! He’s supposed to help people. Well, perhaps he doesn’t consider me to be people enough.:( “Then let me come with you,” I said, “I’ll help you rescue Santa and someone else amongst yo...

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #180 for Nov 5th, 2010 Your Main Character picks a sliver of glass from their sleeve and gravely inspects it……..( now keep writing) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fruit Punch Monica picked out a sliver of glass from the linen mesh of her sleeve and inspected it gravely. It was thin, sharp and jagged. She was lucky it hadn’t cut her arm. The front of her white boho shirt was all spoiled with fruit punch. A few people around them had stopped in the middle of their dancing to know what the commotion was about. “I’m so, so, sorry,” the light-eyed man was apologizing endlessly, “I just slipped. I swear I’ve got to get some new shoes. Here, are you okay?” He extended a hand. She could have got up on her own, but he was grinning so sheepishly, like he wouldn’t think she had accepted his apologies if she didn’t take his hand, so she did. It was a muscular and firm grip, but also warm and soft and… was t...

In most parts of the world, Halloween is celebrated – in some form or another – this weekend. Your challenge this week is to write a horror scene ( or something horrific) using a wet noodle, a styrofoam cup and a feather. So here's my first go at Fiction Friday - hope its not complete rubbish. ________________________________________________ Perfumes and Lipsticks I ignore the rusty letterbox and grope in my pocket for the keys. As the key is about to turn, my hand falters. Someone’s dropped an empty white cup in front of my door. Rage and buried melancholy fights within me, the rage wins. I crush the cup under my feet and kick it away. I turn the key. Click. In the kitchen I open the hidden pocket inside my bag and take the knife wrapped in cellophane to the sink. When the last drop of red is gone, I turn off the tap, replace the knife and open the window. It is getting cold. The wind from the North is dry, slightly chilling, and it brings a strange scent with it- almost ...