Here’s the first of my three short stories based on the given picture.
For Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) hosted by Priceless Joy.
That Rainy Day…
Simran’s heart skipped a beat as the rhythmic drum beat came nearer. And then the doorbell rang.
As she opened the outer latched gate, in came the fervent crowd and excitedly smeared colored powder on her feverish face.
“Happy Holi !!” Today this chant sounded like din to her. This was the happy neighborhood where she and her husband Karan had lovingly celebrated their festivals, ever since they settled in this big city.
But exactly two years ago on Holi day, when Karan – a royal Rajput, had clashed with a rival Rajput in his ancestral village, all colors had faded. Only one color bled and that was red. Karan vanished from his village, while she, the only witness to the drama, came back to the city.
As the joyous crowd continued to shower colors that blended with the pouring rain, Simran gazed dumbly at the puddles. There were various hues – green, yellow, purple – but she saw only ‘red’.
Soon the crowd departed and the drum beating became faint. Suddenly she moved, and decided. She’ll contact the police.
(The context of my above story is the evolving cities and villages of India. Some of the current day Rajputs , the descendants of princely warrior families of India, do live like normal working public. Many of them still maintain their good and bad regal attitude/s. A kind of identity crisis.
And as you may know, Holi is a festival of colors celebrated in India.)
Copyright © 2015 Alka Girdhar