Category: Fiction

Two hours

Two hours

It’s 4am. It’s raining. She’s outside. Knocking. I won’t open the door. I won’t. Just won’t. I am not ruthless. I am not brutal. I am not a monster. Yet… I won’t.

Let her get drenched. Her hopes will get washed away. Hopefully they will. She won’t come in. No. I won’t let her in.

It’s 4:15am now. Looks like her hope’s dwindling. Yes. I am getting there.

It’s 4:30 now. She’s broken the door and she’s headed straight to where I am. She knows. I will hide now.

It’s 4:45 now. I am hiding behind the 4th cupboard inside the store room. It’s stuffy and dusty in here. I want to cough, but wouldn’t dare to. She might hear me.

It’s 5am now. I can barely keep my eyes open. She on the other hand, is looking for me like she’s possessed.

Gulp… possessed.

It’s 5:15 now. She found me. The cupboard came crashing down and she saw me sticking to the wall with my eyes closed.

It’s 5:30 now. I’m lying down, in a pool of blood. She left me in this mess.

It’s 5:45 now. I’m waiting for 6am. My 2 hour ordeal will end. And I will be wholeheartedly dead.




Thank you for calling the suicide help line. We’re here to help. Don’t worry. Don’t make any rash decisions.

For help in Rastafarian, press 1.
For Latin, press 2.
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Thank you for your selection.

For suicide related to domestic issues, press 1.
For suicide related to external issues, press 2.
For suicide related to financial problems, press 3.
For suicide related to health, press 4.
For suicide related to parental issues, press 5.
For suicide related to spousal issues, press 6.
For suicide related to work, press 7.
For suicide related to sexual problems, press 8.
For suicide related to love (or the lack of it), press 9.
For just a random suicide, press 10.


Thank you for your selection.

If you’ve attempted suicide before, press 1 for once.
Press 2 for twice.
Press 3 for thrice.
Press 4 for more than thrice.
Press 5 if you have never attempted suicide before.


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If you’ve contemplated suicide, but never went through with it, press 1 for yes.
Press 2 for No.


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To speak to a male counselor, press 1.
To speak to a female counselor, press 2.


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To speak to a counselor between the age range of 21-25, press 1.
To speak to a counselor between the age range of 26-30, press 2.
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Thank you for your selection.

Please wait while we transfer your call to a counselor…

We’re sorry. None of our counselors are available right now. Please call again later, during normal business hours. Thank you for calling the Suicide Helpline. We hope we have been able to resolve your problems. Good bye.


Story: They will all die

Story: They will all die. Episode 1.

He was dressed in formals. A white shirt with grey stripes. A steel grey pant, non-pleated. Black shoes that appeared to have been polished the day before and dust and sand made them look almost grey.

He had walked for about half an hour and was sweaty and tired. It was pretty late at night. He opened his door trying not to make too much noise. Walked straight into his bedroom. A woman was asleep on the bed.

He cuddled up next to her and began breathing into her ears. She smiled. Her eyes were closed. Turned her neck sideways.

They made love.

She adjusted her hair. He took a large pillow and brought it on her face. She struggled for a bit and then stopped moving.

He went into the bathroom and stared at himself for a few seconds, then tugged at his face. He cried.

Sobbing, he walked back into the room. She lay still. He caressed her back, then her hair. He walked over to a cupboard. Opened it and reached his hand somewhere inside.

He pulled out a Browning 9x19mm Hi-Power hand-gun. The silvery grey body shone despite it being dark.

He held it to his head and stared into nothingness. He was breathing fast.


Speaketh the Queen

Speaketh the Queen

“Greetings your majesty.”
“Greetings honourable sir.”
“How are we doing this pleasant day, your majesty?”
“Very well. Thank you. How about yourself?”
“Your benevolence.”
“Is there something specific you sought royal audience for?”
“Indeed I did.”

“It’s the king, your majesty.”
“What about that lovable lard?”
“Err… Pardon the subject’s audacity, your highness. This is a matter that’s highly personal – to you and the king.”
“Intrigued. Please speak.”

“It’s… It’s his intentions, your majesty.”
“What about them?”
“They’re good. They always are.”
“Sigh…! Why is thy worthy self stating the obvious, dear Sir?”
“Err… while you must know the king much better, I know him for much longer.”
“Yes…? Well, and hence?”
“His words are rather blunt and, well, I must add spiced and diced with some choicest abuses.”
“Hahaha! Something that I find delightfully impish in him!”
“Right! And his way of saying he cares, is rather understated. Very subliminal.”

“But fret not, your majesty! They say, don’t they? Cometh the hour, cometh the man.”
“And this emphasises what, kind sir?”
“That when the good King wills, he will express. I must add, there will be much shock and awe!”
“Amen to that!”

“That’s all your majesty.”
“Thank you, dear sir. That was nice and very generous of you. Is there anything else?”
“Not really, your majesty. Err… well there is one generosity that one would request, your majesty.”
“Anything! Please tell.”
“Well, the royal courtiers are going to the tavern this evening. Would be splendid if the king could join us.”
“This is what this was about?!”
“Have a good night your majesty.”

Varun Rajagopalan



“I’m feeling low.”
“Why man?”
“Don’t know. Obvious reasons I guess!”
“Yeah. I know where yer comin from!”
“Hah hah!”

“What’s good?”
“That you can afford to laugh about it.”
“Well, there’s no other option, man!”
“Of course there is.”
“Which are?”
“There aren’t too many. I said is. Not are.”
“Ok… which is?”
“Well, there’s this secret society that kidnaps people.”
“Are you freaking crazy?”
“Just a thought. A suggestion. It’s up to you. They’re pretty cheap.”

“Man. Yer freakin me out!”
“No! Yer freakin me out!”
“Dude! Wake up!”
“I am awake.”
“No yer not! You’re not willing to wake up. That’s your problem.”
“Come on!”
“No! You come on. Wake up. Stretch and smell some bloody hot coffee.”
“Well, you might as well drink some of it and burn yer friggin tongue.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know man. Maybe binge drinking does that to me.”


Varun Rajagopalan.

Dear God

Dear God,

How’ve you been? All good up there? Is it too cold? It’s a furnace down here. I mean I knew about the temperature and all that, but trust me, nothing prepares you for how hot it actually is.

Things here are pretty boring. Lots of hours are spent picking stones (of course, they are like a hundred degrees!) here. Sometimes ‘He’ (Don’t wanna take names coz they read all our communication before it’s sent out) shoves those red hot stones down my throat. It burns and I scream. I don’t have something that could naturally be called a throat now.

The leg irons have begun to hurt. Initially I felt they were cool. You know the Con-Air / Face-Off Nicholas Cage kinda cool. But now they are such a hindrance. Cannot walk without them grinding against my skin. The marks they’ve been making are getting pretty dark.

Some of my friends are here. But they don’t know me. They look and then walk by as though we never met. I tell them of the good times and they just don’t remember. What’s weird is sometimes they come up to me and ask me if I know them and then I just cannot remember. It’s weird. I know. Must be the gas that flows in this place. That must be doing weird stuff to us. Don’t you think so?

Right then, God. Will end this now as I have to go for something called a Lotion-Bath. No clue what it is, but I can bet it’s something gruesome. Just the thought is unsettling.

Thank you for everything and forgive me for all the wrongs. Don’t worry too much about me.

Lots of love,
From: HELL

Varun Rajagopalan.

The King and I

The King and I

“So the quest has begun your highness,” I quipped.
“Maybe.” The King replied.
“I beg to differ my dear friend. The quest is over.” Said a minister.
The king remained silent. Stone-faced, he didn’t even smile. Just looked at us.
“What does the prospective queen think of your kingdom, your highness?”
“Well, she doesn’t talk about that… as yet. I’m still trying to be sweet to her.”
“Sweet?” the minister blurted out, “Haah! That’s a herculean effort, I should say!”

The king’s face turned grumpy. He looked focussed.
And then he smiled. The minister heaved a sigh of relief. I laughed.

I continued, “So, your highness… does the prospective queen appeal to you in more ways than one.”
“I don’t understand your question fully, but I know where you come from, so yes, she does. In more ways than one.”
“Splendid your highness! So this calls for a December wedding!”

King Solomon’s face turned grumpy again. He looked focussed. For the first time, he did.

Varun Rajagopalan.

The soldier

The soldier

“Attention, soldier!”
“How have you been, soldier?”
“Never been happier, Sir!”
“Great! I’m happy you enjoyed your moments of happiness.”
“Err… Sir… I.”

“Hold on, soldier. This is not what you’re here for.”
“Sir… But… I… errr…”
“Silence! I’m sending you to your toughest test. Your darkest hour. Your meanest battle.”
“No, Sir. Please… I…”
“Shut up, soldier! I’m not finished.”
“I apologise, Sir.”
“Hmm… Look, what were you thinking? This would last forever? Soldiers don’t rest. They keep fighting. Sometimes there are rest-days. Vacations. It’s like an earned holiday for all the people you’ve killed. All the bullets you’ve taken.”

“And now, get prepared to get back into the war-zone. Understand that this is your purpose. This is your destiny.”
“Remember. I don’t hate you. Nobody does. I’m actually fond of you. I look upon you as the son I never had. I wouldn’t do something to you if it wasn’t meant to be done.”
“Pleased to know that, Sir.”
“So go out there and show me your mettle. Hopefully, by the time you retire, there might be improvements. You might get a good pension plan or something”
“Sir. Thank you for the reasoning. But, I… I don’t… Uhh… Sir… <SOBBING>”

“Get a grip, soldier! Don’t make me start looking down upon you! I have respect for all that you’ve done. Don’t wash it down with those stupid salty drops across your face!”
“I apologise, Sir.”
“Now. Plug in your head-set and get your fatigues in place. You’re leaving early tomorrow.”
“Remember. It wouldn’t be any different for you. You’re meant to be in this unending war. A war that has taken many lives and will take many more. I hope not yours.”
“It’s going to be a long wait until retirement, boy. Gear up. Long walk. Keep walking.”

“Here. Before you leave, here’s a bottle of some alcohol. Drink up. Keep drinking.”
“Make me proud, soldier!”
“Wait…! I wasn’t talking about in the drinking category! Idiot! I meant make me proud at war!”
“Oh! Will do, Sir.”

“All the best, soldier.”
“Hic! Sir!”

Varun Rajagopalan.

Cure for loneliness


Cure for loneliness

“Well! It’s Mr. Lonely!”
“Hello… Hello…”
“Welcome! We weren’t expecting you.”
“Err… Yes. I just made up my mind.”
“Good! Have a seat. Did you find the place easily?”
“Yes. Asked a couple of people – they guided me.”
“Good! It’s very cold. Would you like some soup?”
“Umm. Sure!”
“Come on love! He’d prefer something better.”
“Aah! Dumb of me. Some dark Rum?”
“Yes please!”
“With warm water?”
“A little slab of butter?”
“Ummm! Much better!”
“And a sprinkle of pepper.”
“You are a dream!”
“Haha! He’s craving for it, love. Bring it on.”

“Here you go!”
“Thank you!”
“So? How’s it?”
“Just as I imagined. Heavenly.”
“What’ll you have honey?”
“Nothing. I’d rather watch Mr. Lonely enjoy.”
“That was just great. I’m dizzy already!”
“Another one?”
“Would love it.”

“Here, Mr. Lonely. Drink away your loneliness!”
“Honey! It’s taking too much time.”
“Time for… erk…”
“Well! Better late than never.”
“Aargh… Bleeargh… Hal..”
“I added one tiny ingredient, Mr. Lonely”
“Fast love. He’ll lose his hearing in a few seconds.”
“Ok! Well, added a teeny-tiny pinch of Cyanide.”
“My wife is amazing. Cured your loneliness ehh, Mr. Lonely?”

Varun Rajagopalan.

Hey you!


Hey you!

“Hey you! You… I’m talking to you.”
“Eat your food. Prisoners get only this.”
“Come inside and talk – if you dare.”
“You think you’re smart ehh? One sec. Hey guys!”

“Look. We have a smart one in here. He wants me to come in.”
“What? No… I was.”
“Ok. Keep an eye boys. I’m going in.”
“Hey. Wait. No.”
“Ok Lion-heart. Let’s talk now.”
“No. Lis… Listen. I… I was…”
“You know the funny things about life?”
“No. Wait!”
“You do stuff and you feel good.”
“And then life does it to you. And that doesn’t feel good. Funny ehh?”
“Err… Puh..”


Varun Rajagopalan.