Stupid Short Stories

#1

He looks at his watch one more time as he waited for her in the parking lot.

*sigh* “Why can’t she ever be on time??”

‘You know.. she’s going to break your heart’ – a voice said inside him.

“No, she won’t. I think she likes me.”

‘Yup, she will. And she doesn’t.’

“She does.”

‘Certainly not in the way you think’

He tries hard to ignore this voice.

‘You know she’ll leave you. They all do. And when she does, it will hurt. And from the way you feel, it will be worse than ever.’

Just as he tries to deny it, he spots her coming towards him and wispers softly to himself, “Maybe. It will definitely hurt. But just a ‘maybe’ won’t make me stay away from her now will it?”

She hugs him as they meet and smilingly he hugs her back.

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The View

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lookin’ Out My Back Door.”

As I looked up from my novel, my eyes automatically searched for the window in my room to look outside. There is something uncanny about the fact that my eyes always search for the sky after I stop reading. Maybe my mind is not yet ready to come back into this world and the endless sky helps the transition. The view I got was not something I expected. Instead of vast expanses of fields under the endless sky what I saw was a large wall of the adjoining building. Startled, I look back into my room; recognition came in a few seconds. It had been a little over a month since I moved in this city but still, moments like these leave me wondering if I’ll ever really fit in.

The window is large enough to provide view of two balconies of the opposite apartment building. The balconies have large full sized glass doors to access them and iron railings on the other side providing a small space to stand, a luxury in this city if you can believe me. One of the apartments, if my memory serves me right, had been empty until last week; but now a few clothes were hanging on the clothesline. I guess I got a new neighbor.

I shifted on my bed a little to get a good look at the sky above. It had been a little cloudy in the morning but now it felt murky and dark grey. I would not have minded a light drizzle but this city is rarely their destination, only a landmark to better places to rest. A light cold breeze found me through this concrete maze and through my window. Feeling a little fresh, I caught myself smiling and thinking what perfect weather it was to read. Missing the cup of coffee I would have beside me at home, I picked the novel to start again. A small thought floated at the back of my mind as I read a few lines:

‘Another window with a view, just taken in a little differently.’


By Percy Bysshe Shelley

She moved upon this earth a shape of brightness,

A power, that from its objects scarcely drew

One impulse of her being—in her lightness

Most like some radiant cloud of morning dew,

Which wanders through the waste air’s pathless blue,

To nourish some far desert; she did seem

Beside me, gathering beauty as she grew,

Like the bright shade of some immortal dream

Which walks, when tempest sleeps, the wave of life’s dark stream.”


Calvin and Hobbes

Now here’s an article for all the people in the world who have read, known, encountered, followed, believed, blogged, bought, stored, suggested, read all over again, loved and still love the awesome and most amazing Calvin and Hobbes. The most wonderful and amazing pair have been delighting the world for almost 27 years now. They are the greatest example of how much marvelous a good friendship is and just how precious your childhood is.

Calvin and Hobbes are without a doubt the greatest comic strips ever produced, and i thank Bill Watterson from my heart for introducing them into our lives. The main characters Calvin, the self-centered six year old boy, and his imaginary friend Hobbes, the tiger, are named after influential French theologian John Calvin and the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes. Calvin, although is shown to get bad grades throughout the comic, displays his intellect through his quick wits, sarcasm, and use of sophisticated words. The tiger, Hobbes, most of the times gives sensible answers to the eccentric questions of Calvin, which are obviously rejected by the self-centered and self-indulgent boy.

The pair lives in their own world, made up mostly of walks on forest path, riding down the hills in wagon, sled or toboggan, playing silly games with rules made up on the spot, making snow sculptures in the weirdest ways imaginable or his vivid fantasies of being a superhero or a detective and sometimes even a dinosaur.

Bill Watterson was against merchandising his work; something he felt would cheapen his comic. And this is one of the reason Calvin and Hobbes is able to attract audience even after 17 years of its completion. As Bill said in one of his interviews:

I just tried to write honestly, and I tried to make this little world fun to look at, so people would take the time to read it. That was the full extent of my concern. You mix a bunch of ingredients, and once in a great while, chemistry happens.

The duo will make you laugh, wonder, give you inspiration and wild ideas, make you contemplate about life and leave you craving for more. Why so many people like Calvin and Hobbes? Maybe because, the way Calvin questions morals and “obviousness” of society and the nature of life, and how Hobbes gives the insight, a tiger might have, on human nature, makes us ponder about the simple truths in life.


Bright Star

This volume is a collection of love letters and poems written by John Keats to his girlfriend Fanny Brawne during the last years of his life. This poem, by the same name, was recommended to me by a very good friend of mine, her favorite poet being John Keats. The poem is just too beautiful not to share.

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors–

No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever–or else swoon to death.


Dear Mom


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt  “Dear Mom”


Dreams of Jianghu

Novel Translations

Gravity Tales

Wuxia and Xianxia Light Novels

Rainbow Turtle Translations

A site dedicated to machine translating Korean novels

Wuxiaworld

Chinese fantasy novels and light novels!

Blue Silver Translations

Translating Douluo Dalu by Tang Jia San Shao

A Dark World Inside

and a bright light ahead

Gotta Press Play

Music Therapy Now In Session!

Levitalks

Bursting my bubbles

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

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