Sid-O-Scope

You never listened to me. You always ignored me, why why? all I wanted to become was a good person, a good son, a good friend and a good husband. But you world, you always labeled me, you called me an idiot, you called me duffer. You compared me with others called them more brilliant than me. YOU world, are to be blamed for this. Good bye, cruel world. He pressed the remote control detonator and boom, planet earth was shattered to pieces.

‘Where are you taking me?’ shouted the man on the passenger seat. ‘Enjoy your ride,’ the driver smirked, a thick bullet proof wall separated them from each other, ‘You may never get another one for a long time.’ 36 hrs earlier. The mansion stood magnificently beachside in Mumbai. It was owned by a famous celebrity who made a millions in the recent movie release, but today his grandeur, his magnificence was covered under the color of khakhi. Police surrounded the place in z-security pattern to protect the famous personal. Just last night, the chief minister of Maharashtra was on television assuring the people, the city is safe, no assassin will be allowed to run around on the street of Mumbai shooting at free range. Of-course he underestimated Eshaan, the number one gun available freelance on the market. 100% assurance rate, never missed a shot in his lifetime. Currently walking across the juhu beach with a girl giggling walking along side. A plain informal short sleeves shirt,...

This is my first attempt for writing a love story, which I am really bad at. Mani Padma (from Ginger Chai ) challenged me to write a love story a few days ago, it is not a real great read, but a little feeble attempt to take a taste in this genre. Please give your honest opinion… Cheers, Sid. *fingers crossed* Breathe in. Breathe out. Damm, this is so easy when you are not tensed. Why is this clerk talking so much time. ‘Will you hurry up?’ I asked the clerk. My finger nails were tapping the counter in excitement. My name is Shailaja, 30, single and employed, in short a perfect girl for the aunties, mammies to constantly remind me that my days are waning out, that I have to find someone before it is impossible for them to. It is not that I don’t want to get married, but I should get some proper match, isn’t it? All they show me is either short, tall, long nose, meaning some imperfection in some way or the other. I am not at all hopeless romantic and I am definitely not goin...

Note: This story is inspired from ancient Chinese jing (勁 or power) in any war, you have a combination of positive power, negative power but there is a thing jing or power which is shown in the story here. Hope you like it. King Bahubali was a noble and just king ruling the land of Bhoomi Pradesh (the land of earth) he was known to be the most cunning and the most intelligent ruler of the land. His policies of building water reservoirs over the river provided water to peasants all over the year, even without rainfall. ‘Never trust nature,’ he would tell his advisors. His panel of seven royal advisors were also very highly intelligent in their respective field. The kingdom of Bhoomi Pradesh was running in prosperity with only one problem, its neighboring kingdom was Khooni Pradesh, the region of murderous King Khoontosh. King Khoontosh as his name said, was very aggressive and murderous king. His soldiers bullied the peasants in the land and robbed his own subjects. One day, as Ki...

He glanced at the ink pen sitting on the writing table, with immense pride he picked it up. Vyomkesh was happy today, he quickly glanced at the table calendar, the red mark on the date 1st Jan 2010 made him smirk. Finally the day was here. Finally the nine years of torment were over, his dear daughter turned 18 and the last of the palimony cheque.

Funny thing, I just realized I never wrote a funny short story, which was quite surprising as Story is what I like writing and humor is what I do best (atleast I think so), but for some reason I do not write a short story with a fun thing and I wanted to know why, I realized writing humorous stories is a challenge that even I cannot take. Well, below is not some of my best work, I tried to stay focused but apparently couldn’t. No characters in this story are real, any resemblances to real characters is coincidental, I just put some Blogger friends names so I might get inspired but well… you tell me how it is. Sreya was driving all the way to her friends house. As always Shruti was in trouble. ‘He has left again, Sreya,’ said Shruti between sob, ‘it was so obvious since beginning, he as just messing around. Its over girl, its over. I have nothing else to do now.’

Caution: The following story is not meant for weak and timid mind. Readers discretion advised. If you get disturbed on reading the story, please stop reading immediately. The day was nearly ending and I sat in the staff room closing my books for the day. Prof. Despande and Prof. Shantaram sat opposite to me discussing the latest evening news hitting the town. ‘Four victims in past two months, Mrs. Despande,’ said Prof. Shantaram. ‘I know, all girls. The serial killer is out there killing girls, we need to be careful,’ said Prof. Mrs. Despande, ‘I have asked my husband to pick our daughter from class and then me. No one leaves house alone.’ Prof. Shantaram exclaimed, ‘Tsk Tsk Tsk, the papers are saying that police has told every girl to stay indoors on a full moon night. The person seems to be killing the victims on a full moon night only.’ ‘Should be one of your subjects, Prof. Pandhari,’ said Prof. Shantaram looking at me. Obviously it was a physiologica...