Day 15: Your Five Favorite Characters

A very hard question. I like so many characters. I don’t know which of them are my favorites; so I am discussing some characters that I liked (again, in no particular order):

1. Mariam from A Thousand Splendid Suns: She is sort of a submissive character who adheres to the male-dominant society throughout her life but when it gets unbearable, she revolts and she becomes mighty powerful. It was the change in her character with time along with her ultimate sacrifice which makes her a very powerful character,

2. Tridib from The Shadow Lines: He is a mysterious character who is kept to be quite suspenseful throughout the book. He is mature, understanding and a master story-teller. He is instantly likable. Even though he holds a small part in the book, he is significant to the story.

3. Margo Roth Spiegelman from Paper Towns: She is another mysterious character and the basis of the plot of the novel. She is a free soul who thinks deep and make such decisions to live a life, breaking the social norms. She is a person I would like to be myself.

4. Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye: Here I am mentioning once again, one of the most criticized characters. He is some one with a distinct personality with individual thoughts which are sometimes confusing, yet profound. The character development is really commendable in this classic by J.D. Salinger.

5. Balram Halwai from The White Tiger: The protagonist who is also the antagonist from this Man Booker Prize (2008) winner book is some one I wouldn’t like at all as a person but would have understood him and his actions to some extent, which given any degree of circumstance were still not justifiable. But I do like the character sketch which is successful in bringing to life this character. I would recommend you to read this book to know this complex character who is just a common man but a lot more than that.

That is all.

Soul-mate

it was the thirteenth time

(she was counting)

when she heard his voice,

somewhere from far away,

but still close, too close

(as if whispering in her ears)

 .

she had devoured him,

tasted his blood and drank it all,

seven pints of it and

left his flesh to rot away,

or be the subject of a vulture’s dream,

she had gotten rid of him,

(that was what she believed)

but still she could hear his voice,

 .

as it was when she slaughtered him

to bits, seventeen pieces that stood apart,

torn away from the lifeless dummy,

she had snarled as she chewed down

his three eyes that once saw beyond

and sucked his lips that once kissed,

 .

she still heard his voice as it was

when she punctured his artery

and drank his life away, as it was

when he thrashed in her feathery arms,

struggled but then relaxed,

accepting what was to come,

lusty for her to take it away,

the poison that was left of him,

 .

she still heard his voice,

as he looked within her,

he penetrated her soul,

with those dead eyes that saw

but never saw again,

 .

she still felt his voice

tingle her back, (he was there),

she felt him within her bones,

his life flowing in her vessels,

she was the body he had,

 .

she wanted him as prey and had him,

(and believed that he was hers)

but it changed when he came to rule

over her, it was his voice

beckoning her to do what he desired,

it was his eyes that had come alive,

and looked through her,

and those lips she had fed on

were there speaking back to her,

his voice that emerged from within her,

he was there, (always been there),

he had become her soul-mate

*For dVerse Poetics. I took a slightly different approach and wrote a dark poem with certain ominous numbers.

Stairway to Heaven: A 100 Word Story

“And she is buying a stairway to heaven…,” he was lost in the song, croaking his drowsy voice along with the track, which he thought, precisely matched with that of the singer.

“Shut up bud. Sing to yourself. I am here trying to study and your cacophony is bugging me.”

He gave him a dirty look and continued his cackling.

“Seriously, I gifted you the CD so that you could listen to it and be dazzled by the brilliance of the track, not ruin it up.”

“It is Led Zeppelin. What do you reckon? I dance over it. Let me sing.”

Copyright – David Stewart

*Written in response of Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

*And here is the song for those who love it and for those who have never heard it-

*And my e-book (poetry collection) is available free of cost, download it from this link.

Painting: A 100 Word Story

“Attention!”

Bright sunlight pierced his eyes as he stepped into the fine painting and heard a loud baritone, “Attention!”

He looked around to find out the place of origin of the deep voice. But there was nobody around nearby, except for a guard standing alert with a rifle facing upwards, held in his palms; his face impassive, devoid of any emotions and his dark eyes sparkling.

There were people at a distance but he was sure nobody could see him and the still life beside him.

“What are you looking at?” spoke someone from behind.

He returned back to the reality.

copyright –Managua Gunn

*Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

Baby Piano: A 100 Word Story

“I can’t forget how we grew up together and then got separated. And today, it is a coincidence that we could meet.”

“It is indeed.” He gave her a brilliant smile.

“You still smile the same,” she shyly commented.

“And you are still the same.”

They shared a quick kiss which was delayed for years.

“And you remember when you visited me at 1 in the night and tried to hide inside my baby piano when my parents came up hearing your loud voice?”

“Yes. And I remember why I visited you.”

They held hands, past memories flooding their minds.

Copyright- John Nixon

* Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

Seconds before impact- A Very very Short-story

“No!” she shrieked, but there was nothing one could do when the things were set in motion.

“No!” she had closed her eyes, her hands were trembling and her voice was hoarse.

Time lost its meaning for her. 
“One…Two…Three…,” she was silently counting the seconds before impact.

And then, it happened.

She heard a round of applause and bitterly, she opened her eyes.

her life

she was the woman with dark kohl shaded eyes

with the vocals so resplendent and unique,

in her presence, the morning sun seemed to rise,

she was at her career’s, passion’s highest peak

when got tarnished by some bitter addiction

and her life became a popular fiction,

she is now gone, lost her war with her devils

but her true to soul baritone voice revels…

P.s.-

Poetic form- Rispetto

Rules-

1. 8 eleven-syllable lines, usually one stanza only.

2. Rhyme scheme- ababccdd.

3. Not much of a rule, but traditionally dedicated to a woman.