Short story writer. Me?

I started a novel called Literary Block exactly a month ago. I’m not even midway through it. It’s hard. Terribly draining. But I swear to anyone who is reading this that I’m going to complete my writing of this novel. And I’ll get published as well.

In the meanwhile, I need a break. I need to focus my attention on other things. I need to write other things. And that’s why I started a short story. A story about a balloon. The story of a balloon. The formidable life of a balloon.

The idea isn’t mine but nor it is anybody else. My kid brother, Salman, comes up with interesting ideas frequently. The games he invents are out of this world, for instance. That’s for any blog post though. Salman also is a fan of the “continue the story? game. Basically the family sits around the table and somebody starts a story. That means anything that pops into his head. Then, depending on whether we are moving in a clockwise or anticlockwise direction, the following person continues the story. After some time, a story has been recounted.

Well the other day, the story was about a balloon. A balloon that was talking to the vegetables in the garden. It was interesting and I thought it would make the perfect story. The perfect short story. I think it’s about 3500 words long – not that it matters.

That was it, I thought. I comprehended that the Flamboyant was going to be my place for as long as I wished it to me. For as long as felt like it. For as long as I would wait before embarking in the next adventure. Before jumping into the adventure of afterlife.

I shut my senses. I thought I was ready to go. But then I wasn’t. I was still afraid and was still clinching on the thread of life. I wanted to go but I didn’t want to go nonetheless. I was still incomplete in my soul. At least I still felt incomplete.

I dreamed (whether it was a daydream, I know not). I dreamed about my friend, the man. I dreamed about the pomegranate trees. I also dreamed about Little robin. And that dream was so detailed and passionate that I thought it wasn’t a dream at all.

I saw Little robin hopping towards me, just like the first time, except that we were on the Flamboyant instead of in a muddy pond. I saw Little robin approach. It stared at me for some time and started to chat, just like last time. However, the sound it issued was more peaceful, almost reassuring. I think I smiled. Little robin came closer still. It watched me again for some seconds. Then it pecked me just like it had done. It didn’t hurt this time. It didn’t hurt because I was ready. I was ready to go. I was ready to leave. I was ready to die.

P.S. If you’re wondering about the exam results, it wasn’t too good. Wasn’t too bad either. More later.


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What’s up in my life?

1. Best friends: I love you people.
2. My own company: sky media
3. Science is so very cool
4. 6 month sabbatical.




My little bro's pics

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Khalil A. Cassimally’s blog


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