Posted in Fiction, short story, thème


He sat there on his chair pulled up right close to the wall, just besides the open window. Two large portraits hung on the wall just above the window. As he looked outside the window, with his face pressed to it, he could almost smell the rusty odor of the iron bars across the wooden window. His room was dark, with his tube lights off, a faint light from the nearby street light fell on his slightly pale face, the droopy old bald guy seem to have a glowing face with eyes behind a pair of almost thick glasses. The light coming into the room cast a shadow of diagonal parallel bars on his otherwise straight face. He sat there in the darkness of his own room.

“Amit” his mom screamed, “Will you open that stupid window of yours, it stinks in here, where will the air come from if you always keep the windows closed?, I hate to enter your room!”.
Amit shouted back at her “Who asks you to come in, you need not. You can leave all my stuff at the door, and I shall pick up, this is my room”
Amit’s mom walks back still continuing to vent her frustration for her highly disobedient son.

As he sat there gazing upon the far horizon, with a face as calm as an innocent lamb, scenes from his youth flashed before his eyes.

His line of sight slowly lowered, and fell upon the people walking by on a not so busy street. He saw people of all ages, making their journeys through life. Some animated self talkers, some calm and slow sloggers, some who seem to have hit the jackpot of happiness, and others who seem to consider themselves to be the personification of sorrow if there ever was one. He was having an amazing time, letting his imagination go crazy, with the possible stories of anyone who walked passed the street, Even with all the excitement, he sat there almost expression less.

“Amit, Why do you keep yourself shut in that dingy room of yours?, and why do you hate socializing so much?, you got to get out, meet people, if not outside house atleast the ones who come visit us”, You could see that Amit’s mom was really angry this time around, the green vein showed up on her forehead.

Amit had never been a people person, no he was not an introvert, nor did he suffer from anthropophobia, but still he never enjoyed meeting people, the earlier days where he preferred himself to other people, flashed before his eyes, as he continued to enjoy the one way interaction with thousand of faces, and a lovely imagery journey his mind was undergoing at the moment.

The power cut which seemed to have caused the darkness in the room ended, and the lights came on, he could see a shadow of his wife walking up to his room, with a cup of coffee in her hand. He took the coffee from her hand, and began to sip it. A little cold, a little too sweat, and a little too light to his taste, he sipped along as he remembered his days from youth where he would have shouted at his mom for making the coffee just the way he didn’t like. Amit finished his coffee, stood up and walked out to his usual walk.

14 thoughts on “Flashes

  1. well were i his mother,, i would be thrilled to have him locked away in his room,, an ungrateful boy who screams at someone that is trying to do something nice for him…. and if i were his wife,, i would probably be saving my pennies to leave….

    paisley, you know relationship between a mom and his son, is very peculiar, very different from other, sons are ungrateful, and even take mothers for granted, but then its also does speak of the unspoken love which hardly gets expressed you know.

  2. It’s interesting. I’m more or less the opposite. I was very outgoing when I was younger, but now I’d love to have the opportunity to hide in my house & never have to interact with anyone face-to-face. I have to say I’m quite a bit less…violent…about it, though. *grin*

    Autumn, well its a little funny actually why we humans want to hide at different times in our lives 😀

  3. Nice and touchy too! But Rambler, I didn’t get the exact thing you want to convery from this story. I concluded little bit from this story, but I am feeling there is something special about Amit, rather than his introvert nature and his perception about the things. But I am not getting what is that ‘special’? Is there something like this or simply it is my assumption?

    Bless You! ~Namaste~

    nothing much I wanted to convey, I was trying out multiple things firstly a theme of flashes introduced into the narrative, and then trying to form a story of some realities which I had, and then also try to show the differences which can happen to a man over years.

  4. Wow I am impressed. A very descriptive story. i can see it as a film in front of me. I enjoyed it also because the character is very simular to my husband even a little bit with myself. When I was young i couln’t stand being without others. Now I love my own company.

    Marja..glad you wrote this, while writing I pretty much had the idea of images in mind and how it should come across as a narrative. I think it has a lot of me too 🙂

  5. Interesting story
    It almost feels like the person has become a part of the surroundings around, observing, documenting, imagining but not contributing to it
    And this happens to so many people,some call it insanity, some ennui and some just plain laziness
    This feeling of cutting oneself off from others, I think I can get it, almost.

    CR, interesting, but I think he contributes but a lot in terms of his own mind, I wanted to bring in a feeling of a big change in the perspective.

  6. i had to change my domain name to please change your links and or feed as necessary

    all you will have to do is remove the – from between why and paisley,, everything else will remain the same and will redirect you to the correct page…. sorry for the inconvenience…

  7. Good writing Rambler! I liked the way the present was shadowed by the past, and I could feel the overlays of time. It did make me sad though, and feel like pulling a blanket around me in the hopes that no one would visit, or disturb the cobwebs in my mind…

    Thanks Lea, hmm why did you make you feel Lea?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s