Flash fiction: Flash fiction is an umbrella term used to describe any fictional work of extreme brevity, including the Six-Word Story, 140-character stories, also known as twitterature, the dribble (50 words), the drabble (100 words), and sudden fiction (750 words).
She wiped the sweat off her face, pulled the sari pallu tighter around her and tucking it into her waist started on her next job. If the coconut wasn’t ground to a smooth paste Amma, that was what she called her mother-in-law, was not going to be pleased. She rhythmically moved the stone forward and backward, adding a little coconut at a time.
She looked up at the noise to find Gangadhar standing at the side door that led to their room. What did he want now?
Come here, he mouthed.
I can’t, she mimed. I have to finish this.
He frowned, his brow darkening. Her hear sank. They had been married only a week and she hated disappointing him. The only time they could be with each other was late night when all the housework for the day was done and Amma grudgingly let her step into their room. She continued grinding the coconut, not daring to look up.
Come here, NOW!
This time the whisper was hoarse and slightly loud. She looked up in alarm and quickly glanced to the kitchen to see if Amma had heard. The sound of steam escaping from the cooker on the stove had probably drowned it.
She dipped her hand in the water bowl and wiping it with her sari pallu, hurried over.
Listen, he said as soon as she was inside, thrusting the small radio almost into her face.
Her eyes widened. He wanted her to listen to the radio? And now she would have to face Amma’s ire, and that too for nothing. She felt irritation welling inside her.
This, listen to this, he whispered urgently, oblivious to her feelings. She sighed inwardly and gave her attention to the radio and the song it was playing.
Ye Aankhen Dekh Kar Ham Saari Duniyaa Bhul Jaate Hain
Her head jerked up to look at him. He had a triumphant and goofy grin on his face. He nodded his head and pointed to her eyes. A shy smile spread across her face. Her heart was singing, in happiness.
Where has this girl gone leaving the grinding half-done?
Amma’s voice cut into their bubble of joy making them start. She gave him a gentle push and hurried back. She’d have to think up a convincing excuse for disappearing in the middle of work. A stomach ache may be. Meanwhile her heart was humming,
Ye Aankhen Dekh Kar Ham Saari Duniyaa Bhul Jaate Hain*
*These eyes make me forget the world
©Shail Mohan 2016
Day 8 NaBloPoMo 2016
The first story in the eyes-series: Eyes. There will be one more in the series 🙂