Scribbleriana

If Kalsuma had had any doubts about Azhar’s interest in her and why he had opted for an arranged marriage they were removed on one particular day. Kalsuma had felt Azhar’s interest was indeed serious and genuine when he sent her a message that day panicking that he could no longer see her on his Whatsapp messenger.  Kalsuma had no idea why she wasn’t showing up. Even if she had blocked him he would still be able to see her name appear, while her picture would be removed. These were the joys of modern communication.  You could block someone on a messenger application to show them that you no longer wanted to speak to them.  You didn’t need to write this out, let alone verbally communicate the message to them.  As the number of people you might speak to was increasing with globalised technologies, the methods of removing someone from your life was also easier. You could unfriend, unfollow or block someone if you had the mind to.   However, in this case Kalsum...

The rain poured over their umbrellas as Bushra and Carmella hugged and smiled. They were meeting after many days. Many days later after that first meeting when they had discovered each other and had decided to become friends. Bushra snapped shut her umbrella, making the raindrops sprinkle around her. The girls walked into the restaurant giggling and cheerful, ready to unburden their heavy hearts.  The girls met from time to time and behaved like good friends. A passer by would think they were soul sisters.  though secretly they were keeping an eye on each other and making sure neither one went back to him. ‘How have you been?' Bushra asked Carmella. ‘I haven’t been doing very well at all’, Carmella said almost tearfully. Carmella was a mess. She had lost her job and she was back home living with her brother again. The loss of Gilbert had devastated her.  She had thought he was bringing hope into her life. A new start after her divorce. Bushra watched Carmella with pity. T...

Kalsuma had met so many different kinds of guys she could write a novel about which types of men were unsuitable and should be avoided by a girl looking for commitment.   In the beginning she had courted the professional ones. The architects, lawyers and bankers. These were fairly good looking prospects, mainly on the short side because she was under the impression that she, being 5’3, was a short Bengali girl. She soon found out that she was in fact not short, but quite tall for a Bengali and her dates were unhappy that she was the same height as them or almost as tall as them.  You are not as much of a midget as I thought you would be one of her first ever dates told her. They never saw each other again.  It might have been to do with her height but it might have been how she kept accidentally gushing about her crush on Tom Cruise over dinner. It was her nerves and she was trying to assure him that she didn’t care about height, but understandably he didn’t take it ...

Elanur sat despondent in her room looking out at the view in front of her. She was on the window seat of a manor house set in the idyllic countryside, a forest surrounded her home and she could hear the chirping of the birds on this bright serene morning.  The vivid green of the forest leaves were sparkling in the cheerful sun which beamed down and flickered amongst the trees, playfully dancing between the branches. The roses growing below her window were heavy with flowers in shades of pink, white and buttery yellow, and they filled the air with their sweet musk.  Yet Elanur could not find it in herself to be cheerful or positive despite her charming surroundings. She didn’t have the one she wanted next to her. Sultan Murat was back from his diplomatic duties and she was due to meet him but he had not arranged to visit her. Ela sighed and put down her embroidery.  She hadn’t seen him in eight weeks and was missing him terribly.  He had told her to wait in this pla...

It was on my holidays last summer that a strange incident happened. I still can't shake off the feeling that the memory brings back.  It was a warm day, warmer than normal, the skies were cobalt blue and clear of any clouds. I had left my tour group as it was our free day and we could go somewhere that we wanted outside of the tour schedule. I went to visit one of the famous step wells that Rajasthan is renowned for. The well was as impressive as I expected.  There were steps cut into the rock, layers and layers of zigzagged steps which led to the bottom of the well, this is where there was a deep pool of water.  These were ancient structures and I had always wanted to visit one, not only to marvel at the breathtaking and ornate architecture but also to experience the feeling of walking down to the bottom of the well with the local women and viewing the well as they did, a source of water but also a communal place for social gatherings and somewhere to rest and cool off...

Morris sat at the best seat at the bar. It was one of the most expensive restaurants in London, high end, dimly lit, decorated lavishly, the music - trance like, the best drinks and the finest cuisine.  He held an old fashioned in his hand, and was seated in the darkest part of the room; the arm with the drink resting on the edge of the bar, his legs crossed over as he leaned back against the chair giving him the best position to survey the room. He wore a perfectly fitted three-piece suit made of the finest wool. A bow necktie completed his affluent appearance, and his jacket hung open, showing the waistcoat beneath which was moulded perfectly against his broad chest. Morris gently tapped his finger against the glass as he scanned the room and watched the girls walk past him.  The waitresses, the heiresses, the hostess, the girls who were here for a birthday meal and wouldn't be able to afford this place on a casual night out; the wives of the wealthy barristers and investm...

She. She was drawn to him like a vampire drawn to it's victim. Clinging on to him for her very life's breathe.  She the empty one, broken and torn; he her lifeblood.  Her empty heart was dull, cold and numb, lacking in emotion, a heavy weight pressing against her lungs.  Holding onto him made her heart beat again, it provided her the ability to feel once more.  Life flowed from him into her and she regained consciousness. His dynamism, his enthusiasm, humour and energy were intoxicating and he used his charm to full effect to pull her closer to him, so that she would become an obsessive lover, lost in him only and with no thought of any other being in the world. He. He was inexplicably attracted to his new lover.  Her existence relied on him, her life in his hands, extinguishable in a single second. He loved to be needed, to be wanted and to be her life giving deity; her dark angel filling her hollow heart in fleeting moments. Yet he prowled the dark s...