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Friday, June 1, 2012

The Faith Story

Posted by at 6:15 PM On to the Previous Post
(01-06-2012)


< Inspired from a tweet by @Urban_Sanyaasi on twitter >




It was the usual morning- of dust, soaked earth, and fragrance of flowers that was in accordance with the locality. He was tired and looked frail. He had traveled. But the journey was not that hectic as it appeared to have left the weary marks on his face- marks of pain, marks of distress , marks of losing hope.

He looked out of the window. The crowd was growing. "Must be time." he wondered. The holy place looked holier that day- dressed beautifully, yes it was a special day. Also, a general holiday, and all kinds of people - the corporate slaves, the travelers, the opinionated and the makers of the society, could be seen flocking up.

He looked around. The room was dark. Ominous. He had shaved. He strapped the holy band around his forehead. That's how people would blend in,  in midst of all the running and biting around for money, power and fame, for once, to bow down  to the Almighty , as  they would put their faith on. He too had faith, and perhaps, his was the strongest of them all. He clothed himself carefully, and stepped out to join the mass.

The sun was merciful, aware of the event. People were chanting hymns, and moving forward , for their tryst with the Almighty. He was finding it a little too difficult to walk. His thoughts were forcefully weighted like him, with precipitates of what he had learned in his life, how he had questioned his faith, how he fell and who were there to reach out to him in those dark times.

He had put his faith, like everyone else. He was alert all this while. Finally, he  reached the gates. He could see people rushing past him, and a sudden feeling of containment crept inside him. He shivered a little. Chill ran down his spine. Sweat buds formed colonies on the holy band on his forehead.

He entered the gates. He could see the alley, packed with people. The alley was fragrant amidst the flea market of faith. He looked at the temple, it was majestic. He closed his eyes.

He chanted a prayer. It was calm all of a sudden, as he experienced his closure. He opened his eyes and  looked at the temple. He reached for the switch that was strapped around his torso, and detonated.


14 comments:

  1. Impressive style of writing .. keep writing regularly :)

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  2. your description is marvelous

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  3. Loved the style and description. With this style in mind, I did expect a surprise in the end. :P

    Hope I could write like this someday.

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  4. Amen to that. I would say, get inspired from some thriller movies that have a shocking twist in the end. That helps in such style of writing.

    Thanks again. :)

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  5. Liked it. The description was detailed. The build-up could have been more thrilling, which could have added value to the descriptive unravelling of the scene. Rather than what-happens-next for every coming sentence, this story had what-happens-in-the-last, which kind of stole away a majority of its charm.

    Absolutely loved the phrase "colonies of sweat". Imaginative.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Harsh! I am so sorry I could not reply to your comment before . I will try to write another thriller soon in which I will incorporate what you have suggested. Thanks again! :)

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  6. I almost thought you were writing about the 'pundit' of the temple.. you got me! :)
    Nice style, you got man! Its good to have found team-mates through IBL..

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  7. I like the style of beginning the story and then develop it little by little to penetrate the massiveness of the theme into the readers' mind. You made the readers' think about what's going to be at the end! Love it :)


    Sayantini Bhattacharya
    another part of me

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