Monday 10 June 2013

Drabble 2013 Longlist


Nisha Kapoor
Amrit Sinha
Heema Shirvaikar

Rachna Bansal Gupta


RIP-Restless In Pieces By Nisha Kapoor

He heard me scramble inside the ill-fitted coffin and rushed to make some space. Chopped off another set of my limbs and earned the honour of saving a dying carcass the mirage of life.

Ah! the spatial was beguiled again. For it wasn’t my flesh but my soul he couldn’t convince.

Still hearing me rummage my sack, he pledged to be the hero again. Headed for another cut. Little knowing that it was a lost cause. For a soul set loose by homicide does not attempt suicide. It lives because it was killed and did not die.

Code Red by Amrit Sinha

"And here, I present Code RED," Jack announced.

"Red?" responded the startled audience.

Jack held the microphone firmly, and continued, "RED stands for Rapid Energy Deployment. In simple layman terms, this solution, when sprayed on a specimen, will lead to proper channeling of its energy, thus resulting in effective and efficient utilisation as per its optimum capacity; and yes, no side effects have been identified yet."

Jack had hit the bull's eye. The murmurs in the room grew louder.

He had applied it on his eyes this morning. For the first time in his life, Jack saw the morning sun.

Prayers by Heema Shirvaikar

Like every night, she sat at the bedroom window. She closed her eyes tight and muttered fervently. She’d do this every night. Sit by the window, and wait for a star to fall. Did shooting stars fulfil wishes? She did not know. But she waited for them to fall anyway. Just like she searched for four-leaf clovers, coins, stray eye-lashes, and rainbows. She had a simple wish. She wished for a family. But the lucky charms weren’t strong enough to work their luck. Yet. Hopeful, she retreated to her bed, joining several others like her, in the orphanage ward. 

Writing by Rachna Bansal Gupta

It wasn’t easy writing a Drabble. In the beginning I was confused so, I wrote and deleted. This happened several times because I could not fathom how I was supposed to write something meaningful in just 100 words. I looked around and then stared at the blank word document; nothing happened, at least not instantly.

Thirty minutes passed, dejected I leaned against the sofa; the sun’s rays trickled in through the open window and fell on the keyboard. The keys looked as if they were calling; pleading, asking me to change the letters into something meaningful; and so I began.




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