The Realistic Fiction – A Memoir

One of the other gloomiest nights wears on to a morning. She rolls her fingers over her already half-opened eyes and pulls her husband’s arm softly aside to get out of the bed. After a while, she was fastening the laces of her pink Nike trainers and ready to jog ! She knew, she’d run so hard today that her feet would feel wounded and her legs would hurt like hell. Her breath would feel irregular for hours and her heart would beat in her ears for long. And after all that, she won’t still stop. She’d jog until all the energy inside her body would be drained out. And today wasn’t different from the other days that had been creeping slowly.

Why such torture on her own self ? She had no concrete answer.

With his head filled with confusions, he turned the page. He had started reading this fiction written on a beautiful white leather covered diary but after reading only the first page, he felt some things strangely familiar. As if, he actually knows the heroine of this story…. As if….

May be, to trick her mind into thinking about her tired body rather than her ruptured heart full of fears of the future and guilt of the past. May be, to get rid of those painful anxiety attacks and depression disorders. Or maybe, just to distract herself from her own self. Sometimes, the un-satisfying reasons you give yourself are not important enough.

“I can’t have a child. I am not able enough to bring a new life into this world. For all my life I have done nothing but to hurt my loved ones. I can’t be a parent I am a total mess”

For years, these small sentences were often followed by painful cries while she’d go to sleep at nights, with needles tingling all over her body and rapid breaths getting out of control. Her husband would sit aside holding her hands and pushing her head against his chest. Sometimes, silent presence of a loved one is better that a thousand empty words. He was her doctor, her friend and her faith.

The day when their baby was born, her eyes smiled while staring at his eyes with pride. The pride of winning the battle against anxiety and depression while fighting together, the pride of loving and being loved innocently and purely — and most importantly, the pride of being a Mother !

He couldn’t find himself strong enough to read another hundred or more pages. This fiction was not a fiction, as this diary was not just a diary. 


I am sitting in my bed today watching Mother’s day programs on Tv. He comes rushing towards me and hides himself  in my embrace, as he used to do when he was a kid.

I love you, Mama ! I won’t be able to thank you for the priceless love you have given me in all these years, and I want to tell you that you are important to me more than anyone in the whole world. Everyone loved you mama, they just didn’t express their love the way you needed. I don’t want to be like them

Saying these words, he hands me over a copy of this famous magazine. I open that half folded page in curiosity and there I see, my 25 year old story published in a neater version with my name.

I recalled, I was scared of writing diaries because the thought of getting exposed and judged frightened me. That’s why I started giving my daily anecdotes a color of fiction.

He understood my ‘fiction’ when nobody could. I wonder, how many more strange habits had he taken from his father ?

Inspired by The Daily Post.

25 thoughts on “The Realistic Fiction – A Memoir

  1. Yeah Lala is back! Back with a bang! This is just one amazing story, kya bataun,aapko padhne se aisa lagta hai jaise kisine meri life ki kitaab mein se panne chura ke kahaniyaan bana dali… You seem so natural and effortless..
    i loved 2 things the best- ” friend and faith”
    and “He understood my ‘fiction’ when nobody could. I wonder, how many more strange habits had he taken from his father ?”

    • Awww my sweetheart is here to greet me 🙂 Love you Pamela. As always your comment was enough to cheer me up. Thank you so, so much for all this appreciation darling, I am honored. So glad that you liked my thoughts. So glad that you came here to support. ❤ you forever.

  2. Kaisi hai? 🙂 Dekh tera bhai fir se gaayab ho gaya… Ganda Bhai…

    And about the post… it is nice… Kya bolun… Haan it is the one which leaves the slightest of smile on the reader’s face that actually persists for hours… like the honey whose sweetness increases with time…

    Regarding the announcement query as raised by cabrogal… 🙂 Well…

    And before you raise questions about my absenteeism from my blog… I have an announcement to make… 😛 I am on a hiatus… lamba walaa… PhD ke entrance exams aa rahe hain… so regular blogging next year se… beech beech mein aataa rahunga tera haal chaal poochhne… theek hai?

    • Tera comment perh lia tha bhae kafi pehlay bus reply nae ker saki. I hope your studies and everything is going awesome. Noble prize le k hi wapis ana ab 😉
      Haha thank you bhae post ko like kerne k leye aur smile kerne k leye b.
      There is no announcement yet Okay 😛
      Do concentrate on your exams stuff but we will all be waiting here for you, praying for your success. Love you brother.

  3. The memory is distant..thousands of lives..thousands of manifest beings..all the core..ONE..

    The fish..the sharks..the whales..the dinosaurs..THE DRAGON!..the rodent..the monkey..the LION and Tiger..the Medicine Man..the
    Warrior..the Lover..the husband..the wife..the philosopher..Arabian veiled dancer..the list goes on and on..thousands of incarnations
    in this fictional memoir of alternate comes in vague..and comes in clear…

    At times transcendent reality it is..

    The promise from the beginning..

    THE chain of life goes on..
    and on..and on..and on…

    and on…..

    IT COMES to
    wRite now!

    HEaRe now!

    i am here..
    wHere ARE ya..
    are ya here…

    The answer is clear..

    Believe in IT ALL


    IT ALL

    Inspired by

    love too!

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