Skip to main content

Life in a nutshell

Her eyes wandered around the room as if she was looking for something. Or was it someone? She kept looking. Her eyes moved quickly in different directions as if she was trying to take it all in, at once. Was she? The pale walls seemed dark around her. The light coming in from the window was not enough. It looked across a park where no seemed to come and go; the window.

"I must get out of here," she thought. Slowly she got up, looking back once as if making sure of something. She moved out of the room, into the corridor; her shadow on the peeling pockmarked walls down the steps, out of the gate and onto the street. It was nice and breezy. A lot of light was here, unlike her room. "Maybe I should take a stroll," she thought, and so she did.

Morning turned to noon and noon to evening. She kept on walking the streets; taking in the sights and scenes of the day. She saw a balloon seller at the kerb, content with so many kids surrounding him. She imagined how a balloon, filled with gas, brought so much happiness to a child? Wouldn't it finally fizzle away? It would, like life does right in front of your eyes.

Walking through the in-roads and the out-roads, passing the lazing cats in the sun, drowsy dogs with droopy eyes and men, and women with solemn looks on their faces, she made her way through.

Why solemn? She wondered.

Did they find her queer? Bah, they are the ones who are queer!
She walked on. It was the time when the sun dipped into the water. She gazed at it slowly drowned. She wished it wouldn't!

In the meantime, she realised she had not eaten the entire day. The wafting smells from the food stalls nearby had caught her fancy. Something pungent would be nice, she thought!
And so she moved towards the stall. The huge cauldron had something simmering in it.
The world around her had been clear just a few moments before, but now it was blurring. The huge cauldron had something simmering in it. A sharp ray of light hit her eyes only when she was going to touch the huge pot…

And she let out a blood-curdling yell!

“Stupid woman! What have you done now?” yelled the supervisor. “We have been looking for you the whole day, and you have the nerve to hide around the place. Who will answer the doctors ha? I will have you locked up! Yes, that would be the right thing to do!”

Tears kept falling as she tried to nurse her hand. Life in a mental hospital sucked out the imagination in you. 


  1. WOW!
    What a comeback, err wait a second i doubt you had gone somewhere in the first place :|


    WOW!Liked it a lot...
    muaahs girl :)

  2. Looks like crazy woman always spices up any fiction.. i m a big fan of crazy characters..

  3. Ur blog rocks reading your stuff!! :)

  4. Your Imagination is wonderful and really liked it ..

  5. @Rashmi

    Thank you girly! Come back soon..miss you!


    Thank you!

    @ Tongue-fu Lady

    Yeah the crazier the better!

  6. @ Priya Chaphekar

    Thanks girl!

    @ Kalyan

    Much appreciated buddy!

  7. Whoa, NIce read.

    I loved this line the most, Life is like a ballon, It fizzes away in the end.

    Awesome babe.

    This is why i fell in love with you in the first place. :D

  8. is it a true story by any chance ?? :P just kidding..

    nice one.. well described in short..

  9. @ Narsimha

    Lol yeah...I am the bestest!

    @ Mihir

    The mind plays games with us. Fortunately yet unfortunately it is not a true story!

  10. Woww!!.. so vivid..interesting and short.

  11. I was waiting for this character to be a cat. Maybe that's what the woman felt like...

  12. @ Julia Smith

    A good thought! But it would make my story repetitive! Thanks! I will work on something like that!

  13. Kudos..beautiful description and narrative...Keep writing :)

  14. I have no words to describe how i liked it. simply awesome. period. :)
    Fyi. i just subscribed to feeds of your blog. :)

  15. @ Manpreet Bedi

    Thanks ya! :)

  16. That definitely did not take the direction I thought it to take when I read the opening para... Maybe a warning of "Sharp Curves" would have helped...

  17. @ Iggy


    @ Spike

    Next time for sure!

  18. life and balloon..vallah..philosopher nikki..good one ya...n, u dont need mirrors..u r a very positive person....cheers

  19. @ R.Ramesh

    Hey thanks! Its tough to maintain the positivity though...:)

  20. Lovely as ever Nikki!!

    Amazing one!

  21. even insanity is not free.. neither its an excuse

  22. @ StandbyMind

    Thanks! :)And I was thinking...I am going to be reprimanded!

    @ iamyuva

    I agree.

  23. Interesting! :) Ur style of writing is so impressive and so unique. :)

  24. @ Chandrika

    Thank you! Keep visiting!

  25. for a moment i thought it was a dog but i was wrong :) well done

  26. that hits right where it should hurt - the fragile bearings of the heart!


  27. @ ani_set

    Haha! Chalo accha hai...

    @ Beauty and the BEast


    @ Zb


  28. now someone's turning autobiographical :P

  29. @blunt_edges

    Really? Did I sound so crazy? Lol.

  30. Wow....It was really good!! I loved your imagination...
    The last line was the best! Keep penning down such thoughts...! :)

  31. @ Pavitra

    Thanks & you keep visiting! :)


Post a Comment

GO ahead, say it out loud!

Popular posts from this blog

Mind vs the heart

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Picture courtesy: Google. Only for representation purpose.
Standing on the highway, Roads leading both ways to somewhere, I stand still and wonder, Where do I belong?
The soothing lullabies of the green mist fairies call.  With promises to wrap me in the cool calm fog, Holding me in wet, gentle caresses, lulling the storm within. 
The call of the shrill, salt-laden sea sirens,  from the sun-baked rocks, Pull me back To join them as they make me one, in the fathomless abyss of wonders unseen. 
I lament my fragile being,  Born with one heart, not two, Torn between the ebb and flow of waves, And earthy scents in muddy dew. 
Both offer me refuge,  Cloaking me whole in their embrace, Dust to dust, flesh to flesh and soul to soul. 
In this battle between the mind and the heart, The heart but loses steam,  Leaving me stranded on a path to nowhere, never to be seen. 
My mind has been wrought with depression and all things crappy. This is a result of binge-watching a…

9 Things My Dog Taught Me About Life

And he has no clue…

I am guilty as charged. Per my husband, I spend every waking minute with my dog. If I am watching TV, he’s by my feet, if we plan an impromptu drive, he wants to come along, and at times, we do take him. My evening walks happen only because I have to take him. My social life is all thanks to him. And if you happen to mention the dog at a social gathering, I can go on and on about the pup even if we have nothing in common otherwise. Hell, I started an Instagram page just for the dog on popular demand!
I can assure you, though the husband isn’t convinced, that its all the dog’s doing. His popularity has only grown over the years, and who can resist those googly puppy eyes? He works his charm on all, irrespective of age, gender (partial to women though), color, and caste. He’s gentle with kids, super active with people who can keep up, he’s sensitive, always ready to share food (only yours) and so much more. His licks and cuddles have the power to melt glaciers and his …

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).

But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…