Drabble: Charred

This one comes before Unexpected Undercurrents.

The story so far.

--.


Ashi was waiting at the door, immaculately dressed as usual. ‘You’re zippy today!’ Her tone was pleasant, and it sounded all the more accusing for that, for her roommate was unusually adrift that morning. Rohini hesitated, then spoke softly, ‘I had a strange dream last night.’

Ashi, too impatient to notice any implications beyond the words, snapped: ‘We’re already late, wake up!’

Rohini, suddenly furious at herself for bothering, threw down her comb with force and flounced out the room. If she wasn’t feeling zippy, it didn’t mean she inflicted it on others, not when she didn’t understand it herself.

Double Drabble: Pleased to meet you, I'm sure

Advait, I'm told, is quite fond of narrating this story:

--

There he was, he begins his tale, minding his own business, and suddenly his books are gone, and this petite girl is scurrying away with them. She leads him on a merry chase (everybody's staring at them) and stops only when he upsets a chair. 'Shh,' she then has the audacity to say, 'we're in a library'.

He sends her his most fearful glare: 'Give me my books.' She flips over the cover of his notebook. ‘My apologies, Mister Advait How-ever-you-pronounce-it,' she says, and hands it to him. He looks pointedly at the reference book.

‘Nuh uh,’ she says, smiling brilliantly, ‘this ain’t yours.’ And you really can’t blame him for exclaiming, 'you, Madame What-ever-your-name-is, are insane!' But he's beginning to smile back.

She tucks the offending book under her arm, and starts counting on her fingers. 'You're the seventh person who's said that,’ she says, finally looking up. 'Seven's a lucky number, isn't it?'

‘Remarkably so,’ he agrees, smiling fully now; he'd pinched the book while she was busy counting.

--

Rohini, if she's present, always mutters 'lucky bastard!' at the end of it. But her eyes are laughing.

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Oh, and, I compiled this index of them stories, 'the story so far', so to speak. Which, if you think, in context of this p'ticular post, should be, 'the story after this.'

Drabble: Pieces of nothing

She’d never regretted that she hadn’t stayed, that evening before he’d died. It was not life, that count down to death, and she hadn’t wanted to be a part of it. He’d been asleep, and she didn’t think she could stand it, watching him struggle for breath, selfishly wanting it to be over, to put it all behind her.

Months later, she found that without the anger, the worry, the fear, the need to be of use -- all inextricably linked to him -- she was just an empty shell, of that he’d wanted her to be, but she wasn’t.

Drabble: Don't give up on yourself, love

What was he thinking, that she'd fall right into his arms, look up at him, and tell him she'd been miserable without him? Well, she had been miserable, enough that she had absolutely no intention of giving him that power over her again. She knew enough of him that he’d stay away, if she asked him to, but could she make him stay the hell out of her mind? She didn't quite know. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to try. She bit back the sharp, bitter accusations, but her answer wouldn't change: No.


---
Ashi and Dhruv, in case you're wondering

Drabble: Pitter patter

Dhruv always associated them rains with Rohini. It’d been raining, the first time they’d met. He laughed at the memory: she'd crashed into him, then unabashedly dragged him into the rain. Oh, he'd protested, she’d had none of it, and somewhere between all that tramping about the neighbourhood, and sinking hastily-made paper boats, they’d become firm friends.

That was years ago, when she’d visited her grandparents for the summer. She just stood there, today, tightly hugging herself, allowing the rain to drench her. She smiled weakly when she saw him, and went back to staring into the distance.

Drabble: And yet they're best friends

Kira looked up, when she heard the door close, then went back to methodically shredding newspaper. She barely registered her roommate’s, ‘what’s wrong?’ Half a minute later, she indicated the mess in front of her ‘I need to finish this by six.’
Ashi was bemused, ‘six?’
‘Meeting Dhruv.’
Ashi was disconcerted by her friend’s blank stare, but only nodded, unable to suppress her envy.
--Kira was now picking up fresh paper. She ripped it in half, deposited one half on the bed, then resolutely tore the other. She didn’t notice, when Ashi slipped out the room.

Drabble: Reach for it, dearest

Ashi had not meant to watch it. No, it was taking up space on her hard drive, and she'd wanted to delete it. It wasn’t the kind of movie she'd watch; the girl was beautiful but unreachable, and she didn't like the guy's hair.
But she watched. Time went by, they looked different, they got dumped, they still laughed. They found each other. One day, she’d find someone too. Dhruv only smiled, she’d find someone to laugh with. She would not know where it would go. But there would be an open road ahead of them, and they’d laugh.

Drabble: Unexpected undercurrents

Advait was unsurprised to find Rohini flinging pebbles into the pond. 'She lives a charmed life,’ she was saying, ‘nothing ever touches her.' But he almost gasped when he heard Dhruv: ‘she makes me happy.’

‘The novelty will wear off. That cheerful exterior holds nothing inside; you deserve better.’

'She's your best friend!'

There was a gentle, pained intimacy in her voice: ‘Ashi has a generous heart, Dhruv, but she will not understand you when you most need her to.’

Since when had Rohini been on such terms with Dhruv? Clearly, Advait was eavesdropping on a private conversation; he left.

Drabble: An afternoon flows by, this way

Rohini stood by the pond, absently throwing pebbles into the water. She smiled brightly when she noticed him, "I'm trying to get back at the water sprite. Join me?" He took the offered gravel. "Pray, what has the little sprite done to offend you so?" She flicked another pebble at the pond -- it bounced twice before it disappeared -- and shrugged: "Nothing. I was bored”

He laughed, and flung his pebble as far as he could, triggering an unspoken competition of who’d throw the stone farthest. Somewhere between the banter, she said, “Advait? I’m glad you’re here.” 

Drabble: She was in high spirits, that night.

"My goodness, girl! what on Earth are you up to?" "I wanted a story," Kira grinned, and went back to drawing cheerfully sinister figures that, in the flickering light of the candle, seemed to dance around a set of alphabets. Ashi was incredulous, "And you decided to go looking for it among the spirits?"

As Kira wrote ‘OUIJA’ in ornate letters at the top of the cardboard, she thought that if those demons were to keep her from sleeping, they might as well make themselves useful. Aloud, she asked lightly, “Why not? I’m sure they have interesting tales to tell.” 

Drabble: Fair weather we're having

“Don’t get out, Rohini,” he said, as he paid off the driver, “not yet.” And then he took her umbrella and disappeared behind the auto. “I see your plan,” she muttered, “you steal my umbrella, and then abandon …”

“This way, Mademoiselle,” Advait was at her side, holding open the offending object with flourish. She grinned, and daintily stepped out; he held it carefully above her head, gallantly getting half wet in the process. As they continued towards the hostels, she thought that it was extremely unfair, and pushed that darned umbrella towards him; she wanted to get wet too.

Drabble: Negative Space

She could only stare.

She remembered that wave she called alone, washing over her, leaving her rooted to the ground, and at the same time, floating in space-time. Yes, she remembered very well, how it was to float un-anchored in a vast universe.

This was infinitely worse. He shrank into himself, as if that vast universe he was alone in was collapsing onto him, and would cease to exist, if he gave in. She was, once again, rooted in that nothingness, as she watched the fear in his eyes die, as she watched his hands stop trembling and go limp.

---
For those wondering where this fits into Kira's universe, stop. It doesn't.

Chasm

Please note that this has nothing to do with Rohini, Advait or anybody that belongs to that perfect little universe I've created; Ashi refuses to stop being difficult.

----

Chasm

Her silence had once meant warmth: she'd been content to disappear into the kitchen when they'd had guests, to blush modestly at the affectionate compliments on the warm chai and pakodis. And she'd been content to let her husband carry on the conversation.

There was something remote and heavy, now, about her silence. She sat there, head bowed, wishing she had something to say to her visitors. Sometimes, the lull in the conversation would fill with praise of her husband. But silence would creep into the room again, and she’d find herself wishing that they’d leave soon, that they hadn’t come in the first place.

The months rolled by, and visitors thinned, and one evening, when she came back from work to an empty house, she thought that the accident had not just snatched her husband from her, but an entire family.

(145 words)

Drabble: All roads do not lead to Rome

She tried, consciously, to forget him. And sometimes, when she did not try so very hard, she succeeded too; not everything led to him, you see. But he always wormed his way back into her mind. Because almost everything led to him.

--
Ashi and Dhruv. 42 words. Yes.

Drabble: Written in the stars

Advait looked at Ashi. Ashi looked at Advait. Rohini, they silently decided, had finally cracked. Really, nothing else could explain the “You must call me Krittika, you know?”

And now she sat in mock dignity, carefully turning the glossy pages of her book. Presently, she got tired of waiting for them to reply, and elaborated “It was very wrong of my parents to name me Rohini when I was born under the Krittika nakshatra.”

“A grave injustice indeed,” he agreed solemnly.

Krittika nodded. Advait nodded. Krittika looked expectantly at Ashi. Ashi clapped her hands. “Ooh, can we call you Kira?” 

Drabble: Pick a string, dear

It wasn’t uncommon for Rohini to barge into their room. Nor was it very unusual that she borrowed her guitar to figure out notes for her favourite songs. No, what surprised Ashi was that her roommate was resolutely practising chords today.

“What!” she exclaimed defiantly “I did learn, you know?” “Yes, and you also said that you’d rather choose a more exciting way to die.” Rohini glared at her in response, and moved on to scales.

It took an entirety of eight minutes before she ran out of patience. “If you must know,” she mumbled, “Advait wagered that I couldn’t.”

Drabble: Twirl

“Rohini? You have no schemes up your sleeves tonight, do you?” Her roommate, busy doodling in her textbook, didn't bother looking up, “nuh-uh.” “Good. Then you’ll help me dress for my date." "mm hm." "With Sandeep.” That succeeded in shocking her: “Goodness Ashi! Whatever happened to Dhruv?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, “I find myself tired of playing tag with him.”

Rohini stopped twirling her pencil. Ashi smirked.

“Sandy's a writer,” she continued airily, “he showed me something he wrote on a kid amusing himself with a twig an entire evening; I dare say I can manage an evening with him” 

Drabble: Out Of Reach

She had always been a slip of a creature, but there was this vibrancy, this assurance about her that made one forget. She stood erect as ever this morning, but she was unnaturally still, one arm half extended forward, as if reaching out for something she couldn’t have. And it seemed almost wrong, to see her so vulnerable. “Rohini?” he asked her, his voice concerned.

Her arm jerked stiffly to her side, and she turned to face him. Her voice was mild, but her eyes flashed, as if daring him to challenge her: “It is a lovely day, isn’t it?

Drabble: Improbabilities Don't Add to One, Either.

I had too much fun with those two, to not take a peak at them later that afternoon.

--

Improbabilities Don't Add to One, Either.

“Neglecting your books, are you?” It was all her fault, and now she had the temerity to upbraid him. “What do you want?”

She held up her text book: “Teach me.” “I thought you had it all mastered; 99% probability, and all. No?” She sat down by him in response, and made a show of opening her book.

“A probability of 1 implies a certain event,” he drawled; she glared at him. “I know that.” That imp was dancing in his eyes, now: “Then you know that even a 99.99% probability cannot guarantee you a universe apart from this one?"

Drabble: Sometimes, Probabilities Don't Add to One.

He found her in the library swinging back and forth on her chair, reading some novel. An open Probability textbook lay neglected on the table. She grinned when she noticed him and indicated her book, an Artemis Fowl: “What’s the probability that this world is real?” “About 1%,” he replied.

“Ninety nine,” she averred, and he could swear he saw an imp dancing in her eyes. “Every book in this room is a world of its own. A good book, now, delineates an entire universe.”

He found himself gravitating towards the History section in search of a universe for himself.

---
A drabble, if you remember, is a short piece of fiction, exactly 100 words in length.