Category: short stories

A fear

I am the other woman, the intruder who broke your marriage. You never hid anything, I always knew you were married from the very first day we met. But still I allowed myself to fly, and drown myself into this feeling called love. I was poor, and you were rich but I never borrowed a penny from you though they said money matters. I was younger than you, a lot, and they said that I seduced you, but you were the one who held my hand, pulled me closer. The turmoil that went inside my head when my love for you was growing stronger very day but the guilt was building a greater castle, I never expressed it to anyone. I tired to distance myself from you, I tired so hard, but my soul, adamant stuck to yours. Our love story, like a jigsaw puzzle, meeting of our imperfect souls weaved a different magic.

Then one day you suddenly proposed me. You wanted to marry me. You divorced her, married me, they said that it is a matter of few months or may be one year and we would end up in court room. A day before our marriage your wife came to my place, told me things about you that I already knew, as secrets never found a place in our love. She said that you are a Casanova, a guy who gets tempted by every other girl out there. She told me that how elegant and graceful I was, so I am an infatuation from your side, that would die down soon, the day my skin will lose its youthful glow like hers and you would end up getting hitched to another younger soul. She told me that how you were caught red-handed with many girls even after your marriage to your wife and I am not the only one. But I still believed in that perfect magic of our love story. Yes I know you are a Casanova but you didn’t leave your wife for any one, other than me. 

Today so many years have passed, our two children have stepped in their teens but you never touched any other woman, no other soul could ever pull you out from the elegant case of our love. Yet when we lay at night, gripping each other in a tight hug, a thought sometimes haunts my mind, would I wake up and find you in someone else’s bed?


A revenge story


A saw him that eclipsed night as the moon was engulfed, a day after my house was looted. He was the local inspector transferred to our local police station only a week ago and this was his first big case. His name was Tirtho Chatterjee. 

He came to my place and all details of previous night was supplied to him. My father narrated the whole tale, “Last night, there was a lavish party where my daughter’s marriage was announced. After the party I went upstairs to the room where the safe was kept and found its door thrown open, it’s contents missing. 10,00,000 lakhs and all the wedding jewellery was taken away by the burglars.”

The inspector asked, “was the door of the room locked?”

“Yes it was, I locked it myself and when I went back to check the safe, then also the door of the room was closed and I had to use the key to open it.” My father said.

“Okay, can I see the room?”

“Yes definitely.”

After he inspecting the room throughly he questioned the servants and other family members. Then he came to me.

He asked, “So miss Bannerjee, what were you doing last night.”

“I was in the party with my fiance.”

“Did you leave the party for any reason?”

“No.” I said.

“Why are you suspecting me, it’s my wedding which got wrecked, only one week is left for my marriage, and all the wedding jewellery is stolen.”

He smiled and said, “it’s my duty to suspect everyone, don’t take it personally, mam”

He left the room.

I didn’t see him for next three days.


He was sitting in my room and a pair of handcuffs rested on his lap. I was standing beside the window.

“Bijli has already told you everything, what else do you want to know? Arrest me and put me prison.” I blurted out, suddenly breaking the silence.

“Dear mam, I don’t know the reason.”

He said that and stood beside me, his hand on my shoulder. I looked into his eyes. A drop of water escaped my eyelids, I caught it before it crossed my cheek bone and said, “I had decided to open my own boutique. But my parents never agreed. They wanted me to get settled. I was adamant, opineated. So I decided to run away.  I landed in a unknown city, without any capital or a place to live in. After 6 weeks of struggle i came back. My family  members never mocked me on my face, but they did that behind my back. The feeling vengeance was growing inside me, the venom in me desiring a vent. One day Bijli, the new maid told me that his husband worked in a jail as the sweeper and how his constant association with criminals is a reason of concern for Bijli.”

“And instantly a bait was laid. You promised Bijli a large sum, and asked her to get some thieves to loot your house. Next, you stole the needed keys, the night before the party and handed it over to Bijli, who in return gave it to the thieves. After the robbery, Bijli stealthily, slipped those keys back into their place…. Am I Right, mam?” He asked.

“Yes….. For once in my life I wanted my parents to feel the same way as I did when I was in that unknown city, clueless, fighting for my dreams. I was penniless and for once or twice I even resort to begging.They eclipsed my dreams, and hence I provided that same darkness to them, as all their hard earned money disappeared, their plan of my marriage disrupted.” I said, my tears, dollops of which were dropping now.

“How did you get to know everything?” I asked.

“One of the guest, during the routine questioning told me about your escapade. A sudden idea of a revenge story erupted in my brain. I cross checked with your fiancΓ©e, you were always in the party. And Nothing came out from your call records. For two days I lay without any clue then suddenly one of my informer told me about Bijli and her husband. And everything became clear at once. He was brought and I questioned him, after 3 hrs he broke, he told everything that happened. Thus I arrested Bijli.” He ended.

“I don’t which one I adore more, your perfect physique, your sun burnt skin, that sparkle in your eyes, your dimples or your brain.” I said looking straight into his eyes. He looked away and smiled.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked.

“Yes” he said.

My lips touched his.


Last year I decided to go to outskirts of Kolkata for a weekend trip but least did I know that it would be a holiday that would Jeopardize my night’s sleep.

I had everything planned out properly, like where I will stay, which places I will visit and stuff like. Thus I  ventured out. I reached my destination at about 11 in the morning. I checked in, had my breakfast and slept off. By the time I got up, it was already 3, I quickly dressed up and went out. Outside I waited for long time, but could not find a auto. As I was in a hurry to reach the lake so that I could see the sunset, so I started walking in the hope of getting a conveyance. After walking for about 15 mins through a narrow lane I realised that I have lost my way. I didn’t know what to do. Sun went down, the moon peeped out but I was still standing at the same place, perplexed. Suddenly I  saw the silhouette of a man at the end of the road. I ran towards him, stopped before him and asked, “Could you please help me? I have lost my way.”

“Where do you want to go?” He asked.

“To Shalimar Hotel.”

” I can take you there.”

“I can manage alone, if would tell me the route.” I said.

“Would you mind if I accompany you?” He said looking into my eyes. First time I looked into his eyes, dark eyes. Even the faint streetlight made them look beautiful.

“No” , I said and we started walking together. 

“It’s not too far away from here.” He said.

For next 5 mins, silence prevailed as I looked at him and admired silently this young man walking beside me. Handsome, kind, polite.

“I am Naina. Your name?” I asked breaking the silence.

“Rohit”he said

“Do you live here?”

“Not really. But I have been to this place my times, so I know every nook and corner of this area.”


“You are a tourist, I believe.” He asked

“Yes” I replied

“You are travelling alone?” He queried.

“Yes” I answered.

“You are quite brave, Naina.” He said as we stood in the front of the Shalimar Hotel. I smiled

“Can I ask you for a favour?” He questioned

“Defininately.” I said.

“I want you to deliver this letter”, he said handing me a white envelope.

He continued, “Please don’t ask me what this letter is intended to convey. Just put this letter under the doormat.”

He gave me a small sheet of paper with the address scribbled on it. I squinted at it as the light from the hotel behind, made the writing on the paper only partially visible.

“But….” I looked up and found that he has gone.

I called out his name but no one answered. I went inside, took the key, proceeded to my room, entered and sat on the bed. The place he wanted me to go was in Mindpore at least 4 hrs distance from where I lived and longer from here. I kept the paper beside the lampshade under my mobile and lied down on the bed.

I did not sleep well that night.


I was standing in front of the door of some Raj Khanna. I looked at the nameplate again. Then stooped down and kept a white envelope under the rug outside the door. The idea of coming here seemed absurd to my parents and somewhat to me too but a urge, a obligation made me took this step and thus I was standing here, having delivered the letter that was given by him, the stranger I won’t meet again, maybe.

Not been able to control my temptation I peered into the house through the window. What I saw next took my breath away. 

Inside, hanging on the wall, was a picture, the picture of the same man for whom I delivered the letter. The picture had a garland around it and a pair of incense sticks were burning in front of it.

He is dead.

I saw a woman looking at me from the other side of the road, I crossed the road, faced her and asked,

“Raj Khanna, do you know him? He…he… Is …..dead?”

I found my voice trembling. 

“Yes, he died a week ago. But who are you and why are you asking me this?”

But I saw him two days back.

Numerous questions were buzzing in my head, her voice fading, then I don’t know what happened next. 

I woke up in my home next day, I found a paper beside my bed, the front page had a article. It said that previous day a anonymous letter was found under the rug of the house of a dead man which revealed his murderer.

The Bait

Life offered him a second chance, to live his life the way he had wanted to, the chance to reside in the world of his dreams, but then he realised that it was a bait and he was caught in it.

He first saw her when he was driving home that night. It was a stormy night and he was in a hurry. He never saw the girl in a white dress crossing the road, but within a second he realised what he has done and in next 15 mins he has taken the bleeding girl to hospital and she was in the operation theatre.

Next few days he saw much of her. She had already told him about her sad past, about her parents death and he had told her about his present. He told her how his wife’s craving for better life had took her from one hotel room to another and who has now abandoned him as he  objected to her rumbustious lifestyle.

He was there to witness her homecoming as she came to his house. He had offered her to stay with him as he believed that she needed proper care. They shared their thoughts, talked about their past and their present.  They shared the same room and then they shared the same bed, making love all night. 

One day he woke up and found his TV switched on. It showed a video of a middle aged man and young girl fondling. Then the video ended and a message got displayed on the screen. Which read:

My darling,

I know you are bankrupt, but a friend of mine who shares your last name and has even shared this room before, told me that your father has fortune lying in his bank account. As narrated by my dear friend that your father had shut the door on your face when you married her and then after you never visited your father. I know you don’t crave for money but we do so I had to get myself injured and spend 3 days in the hospital. We had to spent 2 months plotting this bait. I wish not to make it to long  as you might get bored. so coming directly to the point, as you see, we want money, 100 thousand dollars to be more precise. So put them in a suitcase and dump it in your nearest dustbin and we would get it from there. And if we don’t find the money on wednesday, my darling, you would be the next biggest porn star of this country.

With love,

Your old and older companion

He had to come closer to the TV screen as the font was small and by the time he had finished reading it twice, he was sitting down on the floor with his head in his arms.He could see the broken pieces of his heart and his world.

Wednesday morning saw two girls been carried away to the police station. On the other hand this morning also saw a middle aged man tripping deliberately over the edge of a platform and getting smashed under the wheels of a train.

Thursday’s newspaper headlines read:

A heartbroken man committed sucide after been cheated by his lover and his estranged wife”