Game of Blogs : Story Weavers (Part 20 of the story)

Team Name: Story Weavers

Read the first part of the story here.

Read the previous part of the story here.

-o-

“Do you think we’ll die today?” Cyrus asked the guy next to him, quite restless now that his battery had drained out and he had nothing else to do.

“Not me for sure!” Replied the guy next to him.

“Whoa! Very confident on our destinies, are we?” Cyrus was back to scared self, all the bravery gone with the phone battery.

“I don’t believe in destinies. I believe in my skills” Replied the same guy looking straight ahead at the body of the terrorists who was shot from the window. The guy seemed somewhat agitated.

“That’s good.” Cyrus drew back from the strange guy. “It’s good to know your weak points and strong points.”

“I don’t have any weakness!!” The strange guy cried. “I can’t afford any weakness! These excuses are for people like you who don’t have any aim in life!”

Finishing off the sentence with gritted teeth he stood up in haste. One look at the Cyrus’s wide eyes made him step up to get done was needed to be done now?

Pulling up Cyrus by clutching his upper arm, He drew out his mini 9mm pistol he had in his sock. Putting it up to Cyrus’s head he motioned him towards the door.

-o-

Shekhar had his men chase the man he had seen gone just a moment ago in a flash right when he entered the hotel. He himself headed towards the predicted location of the room where hostages were held. 2 men were already taken out. He had to just go in and make sure everything was stable before he sent all the hostages to the roof for rescue team to take them off.

He stomped his foot on the door and barged is as soon the door hit the adjoining wall. “Everybody heads down and lie…” He cried out as instruction to the civilians. Coming face to face what he had least expected, he stopped mid-sentence looking at the cold eyes that looked back at him. Those known but cold eyes.

“Aryan”

“Shekhar!” Aryan smirked. “I was hoping to meet you here finally!” Aryan smiled his same wicked smile that he had seen on the vlog video. Aryan had a human shield. A tall, fair guy wearing spectacles with moppy curly hair. Aryan had his gun pointed at the guy’s temple, who was visibly shivering. “You have no idea how long I have anticipated this moment. This moment when I’ll witness the expression on your face, when you know who I am!” Aryan grinned. “Too bad! Now I’ll have to kill you.” He pointed his pistol towards Shekhar. A clicked was heard before everything went black..

-o-

Jennifer sat there in confusion as she saw the live video of what was going inside the hotel through the camera pinned in Shekhar's army cap. 
Is this the same Aryan whom Kareem mentioned? Oh my god...

-o-o-

Read the next part of the story here.

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

Game of Blogs : Story Weavers (Part 4 of the story)

Team Name: Story Weavers

Read the first part of the story here.

Read the previous part of the story here.

At Hotel Continental sitting in the corner of the penthouse, Cyrus Daruwala was hyperventilating. He wished he had a paper bag to breathe in. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. He was only here to do case study on the ongoing hearings of Abdullah-Al -Asiri. This was supposed to be an easy, quick and clean case. Abdullah was the one of the culprits in 26/11 attacks. Everything was settled. Abdullah was to be sentenced tomorrow morning in Supreme Court. 

This wasn't good.

-x-

"We need to break in!" Tara said as soon as Jennifer stepped out of the Auto rickshaw.

"Yeah right. And would you like fries with that?" Jennifer replied in almost bored tone. "By the way good to see you too!"

"I am serious Jenny! We need to get inside the hotel to get what other media people can't get." Tara said frantically, shuffling on her feet.

"But you can't be serious? It's dangerous what you are talking about!" Jennifer tried reasoning with Tara, but one look said how much difficult this was going to be. "OK!  How about you don't break in yourself but let a professional or a semi-professional, who isn't a mere journalist, to do the work?"

"Like who?" Tara asked skeptically. "Who are you implying here?”

"You're forgetting whom I engaged to." Jennifer winked.

"He can't act on our whims! He has to follow the official protocol!" Tara exasperated.

"But he taught me his tricks honey. A semi-trained adventurer is better than a whimsy journalist any day."

"You don't mean what I think you do?" horrified Tara stared at her friend, looking both ways hoping no one heard their wild discussion.

"I certainly do" Jennifer replied putting on her sunglasses with an air of the one in command.

-x-

Roohi wasn't scared for her life. She had read too many books to be unaware of what was going on. She remembered reading something like this in 'Over the edge', except it was a plane being hijacked and the girl didn't have a phone in her backpack.

She looked up towards the man who had his big gun pointed on her teacher. Miss Daisy was trembling, she could feel it in the finger she held in her hand. She wanted to hug Miss Daisy and tell her they were going to be fine. But she wasn't sure it was true.

-x-

Shekhar was still framing a plan of action in his mind while reaching New Delhi in helicopter, when his satellite phone beeped. He answered both in relief and fear, relief to finally know she was fine, fear because of what was to come now. "Roohi! Beta, can you hear me?" He said loudly over the noise of chopper but couldn't hear any reply. Pressing the phone closer to his ear he tried again "Roohi! Say something beta!"  He could only make out a low rustling sound. And then someone spoke.

"You kid! Stay put or this time my bullet won't miss its target!" This was a voice of a man. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out what kind of man.

Shekhar again tried listening to the phone he held in his hand. There were faint noises of footsteps and few clear noises of someone crying. He knew his baby kid wasn’t a crier. It was so like her to be clever even in situations like this, to use the phone he had given her to not only save herself but trying to save a lot many people along with her. He only hoped she would put herself in more danger than she already is and god knew how much danger she already was in.

-x-

Anti-Terrorist Squad had taken position around the Hotel Continental and the New Delhi station when Shekhar reached his destination. After doing a reconnaissance around the station he located the possible break in points to be used when the command to go ahead was issued by the authority. A negotiator was called from army who had done quite a number of negotiations in previous hostage situations, but so far he too wasn’t able to extract a demand or figure from the captivators inside the station.

Indian authority had given them a deadline till the 2300 hours of that day to get the terrorists to speak their demand, if not, they were to break-in while the night was dark. There were already too many causalities since the attack. He hoped against hope that didn’t got worse by the deadline.

Still keeping a close concentration on the phone in his left hand, he started training his team and laying out the course of action for the night, if it came to that. Every now and then he would try listening for any clues in the phone, trying to gauge the situation on the inside. His little devil might not even know how she was helping her father. God bless her!

-x-

“Ok keep your eyes open and concentrate on that TV. Write what you see while I go in there and sneak into the service entry of the hotel kitchen” Jennifer instructed Tara while she adjusted the button-hole camera on the denim shirt. Pulling her hair in a messy bun she jumped thrice warming up for the action ahead.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Tara inquired apprehensively. She didn’t want to put other’s life in danger and yet she was helping Jenny get ready to jump into the suicide well.

“Oh yeah! Never been better!” Jennifer grinned pulling out a small, palm sized gun from her sling bag and pushing it under her belt.

“Is that licensed?” Tara asked with wide eyes, pointing at the metal thing peeping out of her shorts.

“Yes of course. My fiancé got me this as our engagement present.”

“Gun as an engagement present. Mine wrote me a poem on our wedding.” Tara replied still in daze.

“That’s why I get to break in baby” Jennifer winked and moved past her towards the back entry of the hotel.

-x-

Read the next part of the story here.

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

#32 The silent killer

They don't attack from behind,
With a dagger big as an arm.

They don't creep up in house
From unlatched windows.

They don't poison your coffee,
While you look away.

They don't shoot you with a gun
While they stand in front of you.

They'll tell you they love you
And gain your trust..
They'll take you to places,
You have never been to..
They sing you lullabies,
Till you fall asleep on their shoulders..
They'll touch your heart,
And own your soul..

Then they'll walk away
And let you fall apart
Till you drown in your own tears
Or hang yourself to death..

People think it's a suicide
While they enjoy watching
Their handicraft of killing in silence..

Book review: Bewitching by Jill Barnett

Bewitching by Jill Barnett
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I read this book when I was in my historical romance era, in 2012-2013. I am reviewing it because it was one of those books that felt different. Which compelled me to buy a physical copy of this book. To re-read someday, to recreate the magic sometime.
Magic is the essence of this book. An innocent witch who is figuring out her magical powers along with this new life she has ventured into.
Alec has a hard time coming to terms with her powers but eventually overcomes it with love. Yes, maybe it was too 'love conquers all' and not at all practical. But somehow the essence of this book has remained with me through the years. Just like an innocent secret.


View all my reviews

#28 Camouflager

Gliding softly in his dissolved attire,

Settling at foot of her bed.

His bloodless heart wrenched,

Watching her cry herself to sleep.

Admitting her hurt to be his doing,

Yet couldn't make a move to soothe her down.

Trapped in his own can of worms,

Acting on a curse he can't lift.

His loving caresses inflicted wounds.

If only he knew, if only;

A sincere word, a meaningful glance,

Was all healing potion she needed.

It was her strength to ache so hard,

Whilst numbness clouded his senses.

Weeping, bleeding, feeling agonizing pain,

Were far from his emotional range.

Buzzing silence pronounced his presence.

Puzzling odor fused in still air.

His ghostly proximity evoked her senses.

He was back yet again.

Not sure to stab or cure,

Or to kill with his silence over again?

#27 Scarred soul

It's about the wounds inflicted on your soul

Of tearing eyes and heart that bled
A world of dreams that's woven around imaginary core
Comes crashing down in reality's curl

It's about eyes that opened after a centuries sleep
Of the moments spent in thoughts so deep
Of past deeds and flashes of regret
lessons are learnt hard and wet

Choices we make, make us or break us,
paths we choose,  refine us
goals we achieve,  define us

These scars are evidence of errors
Witness of tormented anguish
Companions of bitter healing
Memoirs of drawled  learning.

Book review: After the Night by Linda Howard

After the Night by Linda Howard
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I read it in 2013 I think.
This book has been in my top favourite books for a long time now. The character Faith stayed with me. Her struggles, her integrity as the truth seeker.
Gray stayed in my head for his stubbornness.
Linda Howard was my go- to author for some time. I read so many for her books because of the suspenseful thrill of the books and in this book as well that part was very well catered to. Had to review it after all those years.

View all my reviews

#24 The Weird Wordsmith

He came from the mysterious town,

Disguised in human form, he moved around

Playing the violin that poured 'weird' words

And so, they called him 'The Weird Wordsmith'

Tunes he played, mesmerized the folks

Everyone swayed in his musical air

She sat in corner watched him play

Collected the 'weird' words that fell in her way

They said 'ruht', 'vole', 'nogay', 'ergert'

"Weird!" she said and moved ahead..

He went round and round giving smiles

Caught her arm when she turned to evade

His deep blue eyes took her by surprise

'Hurt', 'love', 'agony' and 'regret'

Those jumbled 'weird' words flashed ahead

Loud and clear, his eyes betrayed his pledge

For once his fake smile didn't reach his eyes

She read his story in that knot of time

Wordsmith was lonely and miserable

But his pride kept his ground stable

He needed someone alike him in his life

Who could fill his day with real smiles

He had walked a million miles 

Playing his violin, wearing the smile

In search of the one

Who would hear the silent cry

She held his hand and walked ahead

Locking their fingers, he fell in her step

They walked a mile together in easy silence

Another mile took her words to be said

Miles away he could understand her silence

Years later his tunes were heard echoing from a distance
She still collected those weird words, walking a step behind
but now reading the hidden within the written, with a real smile..

The 'romantic' car

This one is sketched by my 10 years old Brother :)

“You know what you are a psycho... and crazy and idiot and... whatever. You understand what I mean?” Anamika stood there screaming her lungs out on me as I lay on bed unperturbed, ever so cool. Yeah I understand what she ‘means’. “I don’t understand you sometimes. One moment you are this sad like you will just run till the lake bare foot and jump! ... and sometimes- alike now, you behave so stupid, like those dreamy eyed, senseless people who know nothing except that mushy, cheesy fairytale romances!” she continued.

“Would you like to have hot chocolate?” I asked. “Wait let me first put on some music” since you’re going to continue lecture for quite sometime now.

“You think it’s a joke right? This all stupidity is normal for you.” Anamika was red- with anger, frustration, if only she knew how much I was enjoying right now, I would have been dead by now, to say the least.

“So rock or blues? I guess blues are better, since that’s what you always are- blue.” I winked and regretted doing that the very next moment as her forehead clouded with some more wrinkles and she gave me that trade-mark warning sign by narrowing her eyes on me. I guess play time is over. Sigh. “OK!” I stepped ahead and made her sit on bed with me. “Now just spit out whatever is irritating you”

“It’s you dim wit-dumb-thick-fool!” Another scream and I am sure my ears will give away.

“OK! And what else I did apart from ruining your sleep at 3 am half a dozen times or taking your name at home while I was away with him or… hey I never even curse your Arjun and I even convinced your mom for taking you out for hills ride. What did I do wrong then?” I refrained from telling her that I still love her no matter how ugly her hair had become after that intense chemical treatment… Rebonding? Whatever! I actually loved those wavy curls.

“Oh yeah? You took MY name while you were roaming with that MORON and don’t even remind me of the early morning or midnight calls you do when you have those Blue-attacks, you talk insane, you behave insane moreover you make me insane along with you!”  And I hereby declare that my ears will never work properly after so much of harassment by a highly insane creature. “And you do curse Arjun when I tell you that he hadn’t called me since a week!”

“See, I do care for you! How dare that guy even think of living without calling his girlfriend for a week! How can I not hate the person who hurts my best friend?”

“But he could be busy.”

“Duh! Being busy is nothing. It’s all about priorities”

“Maybe I am not needed anymore.” She sighed. So did I. I know we were behaving like 12 year oldies at 19, shame? Na, it’s only her with whom I can behave like that. “Ok, let's be serious now. How are you now?” I hate these ‘serious’ talks.

“Feeling tired after the verbal fight with you” did I say that to earn a smack on my arm, probably. “Ok! I am perfectly fine, actually the best I ever felt no actually I feel high without even any booze.” She narrowed her eyes on me- so that the last warning to my insanity or I might be awarded with something lethal than that smack. “You know what. I have thought a lot. And after all that I convinced myself that buying a car is better than walking in relationship.”

“And now I am convinced that you have finally lost the remaining wits that I thought were present.” she got up to leave, highly frustrated and… dangerous.

“Ok, hear me out and then you may leave. I am serious.” She showed her trade-mark frown and sat back again. “Great! Now you see, my car never denies taking me out when I fell like going somewhere, unless I am not showering enough love (fuel) on it. It sings my favorite music to me all the time to woo me. Wherever I be, it is always waiting outside ‘for me’ no matter if its hot summers or freezing winters, romantic isn’t it?” here came the another series of eye-daggers. I still went on ignoring her weird stares “It's faithful, romantic, comfortable to be with and most of all it won’t leave me at any point unless I want to let it go.”

“You are crazy! Take care, good bye” with that she moved towards door again.

“And by the way they do make me sigh with appealing looks too. Hotter than even Leonardo DiCaprio? Nah, maybe not but still...”

“CRAZY!”

“I know”

“Good bye”

I slumped back on bed yet again pulling out yet another chocolate from the chocolate box lying next to me. Chocolates are well known aphrodisiacs, ain’t it? 

From somewhere far I heard ‘verve’ screeching out what I wanted to scream aloud too.

I was blind - didn't see
What was here in me
I was lost - insecure
Felt like the road was way too long, yeah
Cause love is noise and love is pain
Love is these blues that we're feeling again
Love is noise and love is pain
Love is these blues that I'm singing again, again, again...

#11 The 'touch' it was

Though ‘twas smooth,

Yet sparks flew.

Soft and gentle,

Yet passion intact.

Calmness of sea,

Warmth of the sun.

Silence spoke volumes,

Yet no songs heard.

Budding new feelings,

Deep seated emotions.

The touch 'twas

something new, something rare..

Image courtesy: Google

#10 Uncertainty

Unsaid words, unexpressed emotions

There’s this pinch of pain even in bliss

Uncertainty of future, fear of losing

Imperfections of life, awful and amusing...