FRAME 46 STORIES

Destiny's child

Renu Kaliyath

She was destiny's child, taking an early morning walk through the green forest. Her stride was purposeful, her body filled with graceful lines, as she walked, letting the morning fresh air brush past her lithe form, she brought a smile on this lonely rider's face. How would she know that the rider and his girlfriend had been the hippies of the swinging sixties. They had been wild, young, carefree and reckless filled with implausible dreams and hope. He smiled to happy memories. As she walked, she wondered at the tales behind his knowing smile..

The therapy.

Shoumik De

Matthew was late for the appointment, which had unmistakably been scheduled for this morning. He had personally requested promptness. “You have to reschedule my appointment today, it’s imperative that I must see you today” he’d said. How inconsiderate. Was his time somehow more valuable than mine? It’s his health after all. *The phone rings* “Hey doc, I am sorry I am missed today but don’t worry you go ahead and cancel my appointment, I've had my therapy for the day.” Matthew said. “What?” “Yeah, you know as they say ‘Staring At Breasts Improves Heart Health For Men’”.

Coincidence

hetal

To make a bold statement for the 'save-the-sea' campaign, Nipul was shooting with models dressed as merfolks, clad in nothing besides a pair of cargo pants. Mr. Sharma happened to bike along the road at the precise moment the ad was being shot. That evening, Nipul was informed that he was being promoted. The Director was involved in a bike accident and was advised to seek retirement . Whenever asked about retirement, Mr.Sharma always dismissed it saying, "not until the sun hath it's fiery wrath or a legged mermaid plods along my path." .

No pause, Andropause

Madhvi

The dusty atmosphere of the hanger punctuated by the smell of solvents, hardeners and thinners. "Good, the guys are busy with their GPU carts, now's my chance". What a relief, she felt on unbuttoning her shirt; work followed with Ni-cad batteries. To her dismay, her phone rang, "Quick, I need some gasket seals", ordered someone on the line. Covering the length between hanger and engine shop, an old tart gave out a sly smile, bemused she cast her eyes downward. Horrors of horrors, her torso was utterly bare. How did she manage to pull up such a stunt..

Time had left its marks on the corner of his vision. He was an experienced man, trying to sustain his heartbeats while giving some morning strokes on paddles. That day silent road filled with noise of gazes. Her back and butts just swaying as rhythm, her element reiterating forgotten symphony, she was herself. Although nudity was a big taboo, more than belief— veiled beauty is sexier, but that numbness was inexplicable when it couldn’t generate blazes into him. His senses lost essence? And his disturbing face enveloped into unwarned smile— a kid approaching to ice-cream vendor for unique flavor. .

Hungry Eyes

Naveen Rane

My sister got a internship for a MNC. So she went to celebrate to one of her friend’s place. While returning home on her bike she was stopped by the college youths and raped brutally and is now in a vegetable state. The cops and society instead of blaming the rapists are pointing fingers at my sister for dressing up in such revealing cloths, which enticed the guys for such extreme crime. For one month I will be walking half naked just to see how many hungry eyes will be preying for my chastity.

They stalked her for miles, weary of exhaustion but energized by the hopes of seeing her from the front. Meanwhile the old man cycled past her and smiled at the idiotic fate of the stalkers. They didn't know how much they were going to curse strapless backless bras..

Photographer (smiling sheepishly): Why are you laughing sir? Me: I am laughing at you. Photographer: At me? But why? Me (laughs): The picture you are taking, thinking it is a girl, is actually a guy without his shirt. ..

It was a sunny day on the idyllic island. A unique competition was in progress. The participants were plastic surgeons of repute. They had developed prosthesis for women who have undergone mastectomy. They mixed up healthy women too in the topless parade. And men cycling past them had to tell the real ones from the make-believe. The competition was a success and they found a winner. But next day a surreptitiously shot picture made its way to the front pages of newspapers. And all hell broke loose. .

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