Lost In Space...Beagle 2 by Harvey Kennett The true story of Beagle 2 ? Apologies to Yanks in general... [1,105 words]
The Happy Housewife by April Griffin A short but powerfull tale of a battered woman. [980 words]
Mind's Shadow by J Shartzer A teenager is engrossed in the search for the reason of his girlfriend's sudden suicide. [8,115 words]
Melancholy Polly by J Shartzer A young woman with a bizzare history is deeply affected by her mother's death. [1,579 words]
Your Little God Is Pooh And Creepy Too by Xoggoth Only the innocent find salvation. In the run up to the revelation the ki... [1,442 words]
The Three Rotten Sisters by Christopher W Sorenson A funny short story about three snoody women who marry three fine gentlemen. In the e... [789 words]
The Markings Of An Angle by Narinder Bhambra A short story. [1,398 words]
The Fly And... by Xoggoth That Geoff Goldblum had it easy! One fly?? I should have been so lucky! [483 words]
The Difference-1 by Sukesh Srivastava An emotional story of sacrifices made for each other in the family. [4,595 words]
The Diary Of Mystery by Hazli Ghazali Collection of Hazli's short stories under the topic of mystery, a lot to think and discove... [3,982 words]
The Come Back by Bryan Meckley About a successful overdose. [2,157 words]
Ripple Effect by E Rocco Caldwell A scientist has discovered time travel or maybe his own descent into insanity. [838 words]
Providing For Sarah by Xoggoth A desolate man finds comfort in an imaginary (?) companion. But who will care for her when ... [883 words]
Pakistani Feast by Jerry Pat Bolton A man, alone in the jungles of Pakistani, become surrounded by a pride of tigers. [1,681 words]
Night Ride by P J Lawton A tired young man accepts a ride from a mysterious stranger. [1,463 words]
My Eternal Triangle by Erasmus Flynt - [710 words]
Monica's Pie by Paul B Kramer Reklon Harponip, a Turkish lad on his own in America, identifies with Monica Lewinsky's plight as ... [3,062 words]
Man Skin by Harvey Kennett When you sleep, what happens to your dreams ? [776 words]
Hell Is A Personal Place by Erasmus Flynt Each of us has a personal idea of Hell! [1,043 words]
Goodnight Sweet Kevin by Harvey Kennett It concerns me that we, as a species, follow trends and "buzzwords", and anyone who dares... [603 words]
God's Trainees by Xoggoth Him upstairs is thinking of retiring, all he needs to do is train up some suitable replacements.... [1,570 words]
Fury Of Steele by Robert E Tadlock The drug lords of Hong Kong are trying to take over L.A. But Hong Kong itself will feel the fury... [2,686 words]
Free Road by Deon Coetzee The possibility that life may be ended with a happy parting of one's shadow, ie. suicide, that is not... [194 words]
Food For Thought by P J Lawton Ever wonder where the food of the future will come from? [973 words]
Do You Remember Now? by E Daugherty - [703 words]
Did You Hear The One About The Three Icelandic Bishops by Gypsey Teague When you invite a guest into your home, be prepared for ... [493 words]
Death Walk by P J Lawton A space ship crashes on a lonely planet leaving the crew a long walk to safety. [1,147 words]
Changing To Go Out by Xoggoth In the aftermath of the genetic bomb, a simple night at the pictures with the missus is no e... [444 words]
Business Card by E Rocco Caldwell Madness can be in a simple telephone call. [723 words]
Back To The Garden by Xoggoth Depressing the extent to which everything is being dumbed down these days. Poor state educat... [527 words]
A Conversation With God by Kevin Myrick Basically, its a short story with sort of a twisted view on the whole walking with god ... [1,230 words]
The Music I Held by E Daugherty - [802 words]
Licorice Tea by Shelley Alongi This is a story I havent' worked into my novel yet; it's how Rachel makes a decision to fall in lo... [3,590 words]
Victim by Gypsey Teague By the full of the moon, and the cloak of the night. There are some things that are better Kept in the l... [1,372 words]
Twisted Figures by Rae Just wrote it down as it came to mind.. no sense or anything :) [294 words]
Things To Do Before I Die by Gypsey Teague Everyone makes lists. Some mean more than others. [1,045 words]
The Waitress Fom Hell by Richard Koss The story of a patron's ongoing feud with an over-the-hill waitress. [750 words]
The Soldier by Solo A darkly lyrical tale of an old soldier seperated from his men behind enemy lines who takes on a mi... [8,019 words]
The Siege Of Tar Ebon by Dayne Edmondson This is a story of human kind's greatest hour of need. [2,501 words]
The Man I Call My Dad by Justin M Chapman A story about my dad that I wrote for a class. It tells about him. [979 words]
The Gatekeeper Of The Heaven by Partha Pratim Majumder Theme : Hypothetically, the concept of God,heaven etc. are all created by and pr... [2,419 words]
The Divine Inside Of Thoughts by Elroy Jamoke Lloyd Auto-bio piece... [4,442 words]
The Clearing by E Rocco Caldwell A simple ghost story that happens to be true. [783 words]
Spirits Revolt by Jack Roland Butter When Donna moves to her new Californian house she can't believe her luck. Soon she discovers tha... [1,079 words]
Simon Says: The Case Of The Singing Lady Blues by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective makes a fatal mistake. He can't ... [3,757 words]
Simon Says: Case Of Vengeance By The Letter by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective's past comes back to haunt him. [3,972 words]
Simon Says: Case Of The Deadly Diamond Dupe by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective reluctantly gets involved in a terr... [3,813 words]
Shadow Cat by John Caruso On a cold winter day a feral kitten wandered out of the wooded paradise surrounding our home in west... [22,470 words]
Roundabout Love by Kevin Myrick The story of two people who shouldn't be able to fall in love, but came together. [1,187 words]
Pyscho Librarian by Sarah Beresh About a librarian who was a Physco killer and told all her lil library kids about her past the... [1,849 words]
Not Much Like Christmas by Stephanie A Erickson A short story based on the song "Christmas By The Phone" by Good Charlotte. Also based ... [2,616 words]
Neighbors by Shelley Alongi Aviation story. This story takes place before Andrew meets Anne in his spactacular early morning lan... [1,523 words]
Mom's Color Code
Managing by Shelley Alongi Twenty years after marriage, and despite life, Anne and Andrew still manage to hold everything togethe... [2,329 words]
Last Day by Shelley Alongi Aviation Story 18. Anne and Andrew, a sinus headache, troublesome passengers, a frantic boss, and the ... [2,335 words]
Landing Part Two by Shelley Alongi Aviation story. Relationship conflict. Melanie talks to Laura about Jeff. [1,765 words]
Landing Part Three by Shelley Alongi Origins of the accident. Pleasant flight. [1,176 words]
Landing Part One by Shelley Alongi Anaviation story. A pilot is caught between a rock and a hard place, literally, leading to a ... [1,637 words]
Landing Part Four by Shelley Alongi Melanie is afraid. [1,480 words]
Landing Part Five by Shelley Alongi Jeff's dream. [1,033 words]
Jolly John's Last Laugh by Partha Pratim Majumder In 1963 , A young Englishman bought an old Bunglow at the foothills of Himalayas near ... [2,437 words]
Is It Real Or Is It Memorex? by D G Williford You tell me... [82 words]
Billy And Jason by Ashley A Selsing Jason meets a new kid, Billy, who steals his things. At first they are enemies, but they then ... [1,382 words]
Back Page News by E Rocco Caldwell The thoughts of a dying US soldier on the road to baghdad. [805 words]
Attack Of The Sans by Randy Johnson A Space Warrior named Fland travels to a planet called Narburg and battles intelligent Slug ... [3,022 words]
An Encounter With Evil by P J Lawton A young man's search for the bizarre gets him a little more than he bargined for. [1,761 words]
A Season For Figs by Geraldine Winters A short story. [3,255 words]
A Hike by Jennifer Winter A short story. [875 words]
A Friend by Peter Izdebski I was like clay, so soft and yellow. I listened and followed because I didn't know that I could talk ... [917 words]
Go to page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27  29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49
Mom's Color Code
Relationship between mother and son. The very intricate relationship that needs no description.
Partha Pratim Majumder
A creative story teller of India.
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (12)
And The Light Returns !!! …” (Short Stories) God finds out the earth with values eroded. To him, erosion of values means absolute darkness. When he fails to find out values in the all levels of the society including top, an ordinary ragpicker... [1,392 words] [Literary Fiction]
Bare Facts (Short Stories) When western culture and western fashion representing economic power of West has been making serious dent mark in the conservative society and socio – economic condition of third world countries like... [1,461 words] [Literary Fiction]
Engineering An Engineer (Short Stories) In the community of contractors enlisted with the government, a newsitem has spread like fire that newly arrived District Engineer appears to be beyond all temptation and dishonesty. They have starte... [1,897 words] [Literary Fiction]
He Grows Up... (Short Stories) The story of Monty rotates on the issues of growing up of a boy in the illusion of much hyped adulthood, in the dreams of “being a man”, and finally in the mystery called love. But, to the contrary, h... [4,098 words] [Literary Fiction]
In The Womb Of A Bomb (Short Stories) Humor sprouts from a real life situation , when at a far off place, a bomb was located in a government office. The sensation of a bomb and human reaction to it is the focal point of this story. Let th... [2,417 words] [Humor]
Jolly John's Last Laugh (Short Stories) In 1963 , A young Englishman bought an old Bunglow at the foothills of Himalayas near Simla. The problem faced by him was the issue of adjustment with the atmosphere of that old house and his despe... [2,437 words] [Literary Fiction]
Life On The Broken Wings (Short Stories) A young pretty girl , who is handicapped since birth , has to pass her leisure sitting on the wheel chair in the balcony of her first floor apartment in a congested locality. Her tender mind uses to r... [1,860 words] [Literary Fiction]
Living And Leaving (Short Stories) The place is a crematorium. The characters are three dead souls leaving the world in disgust and gloom. They are asked three questions by God about their final round of experiences to know their wish ... [859 words] [Spiritual]
That Extra S - Mile …. (Short Stories) - [1,421 words] [Relationships]
The Gatekeeper Of The Heaven (Short Stories) Theme : Hypothetically, the concept of God,heaven etc. are all created by and preserved in the belief of man. Again, the treatment of the same in the mind of illeterate and common man as well as in... [2,419 words] [Relationships]
Wanted - Unwanted (Short Stories) - [1,891 words] [Relationships]
When Oil Wells Will Be Dry….. (Short Stories) In the felicitation ceremony of the ace rock climber / mountaineer , a question shakes all and sundry including the mountaineer, who finds himself out of foothold in an auditorium in US , after his r... [700 words] [Popular Fiction]
Mom's Color Code
Partha Pratim Majumder
At first I used to spit on them for teasing me. They said that I did not resemble my mother any way since I was not as black as my mom. That was why they were sure that I was not my mother’s son. Thereafter, I used to search for coaldust or charcoal to rub on my skin to have my motherish deep dark shade. Finally, I used to cry my heart out for not reaching minimum shade of my mom. At that age of six, I was confused as they all were amused to get burst in laughter. Even my mom too.
I was called as an angel then and I used to hate myself for my fair complexion. I used to envy so many mothers’ sons around me , to whom my fair complexion was ever a matter of envy. My complexion of the color of sugarcane juice could fail to prove that the deep dark woman with deer eyes was my mom, That point I could not prove during her whole life.
I can not prove anymore because she was cremated an hour ago.
After I had become big enough to punch a boy at his jaw or roamed around with a group of followers , the teasing perished. None did cut such nasty or silly joke over the difference of complexion of me and my mom. Teasing was probably a child-age syndrome.
But my brain consumed that as an addict.
Now I am on the way back home in the whirl of the city . If this city were flat, if all buildings were only as high as the people inside , if all the lights were switched off, the sky washed clean, the factories gone to sleep with cars and vehicles , I could have seen the smoke from her pyre, the fire dust in the air with molecules of her dusty skin, burnt hair, frozen eyes, dry mammary , damaged abdomen, cancerous uterus, cracks at heels and white strings in the forest of her pubic hair - the remnants of an old woman , who perhaps was born to be a mother giving everything from breast milk to the last drop of affection for her womb – marked living creatures.
At the sight of dense smoke of the pyre burning my mother to ash , I would have then made an exception, rolled the cab’s windows down. Let some particles glide past my tired eyes to burn to make me say ,” Dear mom, you are beyond any proof or dispute now. Moms are always so.”
I don’t know whether my mom’s last touch in the air engulfs me and the city I live in. All I know is that the moon will certainly slide into the right place, the clouds will gather in their own way. The stars will blink like ever before to witness the last tram with metallic sound stifling silence of the road. And the city will go to slumber tonight without my nightblack mom.
And from now onwards, she will be nowhere around me except in her giant photograph in a wooden frame trapped with a couple of dead cockroaches. The woman – with the spread of vermilion on the road of parted hair – staring at me straight wherever I stand in the room .
Paradoxically, on that rainy afternoon, she could not locate me on the road in bewildering stupor whilst running , immediately after I was rescued from sinking in the river at my age of seven. I, while shivering in fear and chill of cold water, had to shout at her, “Look, Mom ! I’m here”. It seemed to me that she was blind in the tension of seeing my corpse , not me.
I was mere child, four or five, naked, standing at the washbasin. My slender waist was under her grip. Her glass bangles created noise in fragile tune, as she started rubbing my groin with soap, water and towel. I balanced myself , my left hand rested on her head and right leg on her left knee. My eyes were on the red vermilion smeared passage between sets of hair in search of lice. Her head turned to interact with our cook at the kitchen. The more her instructions used to continue , the more rubbing of soap on my soft skin would burn the tissues, making me wet for longer period and susceptible to pneumonia. She used to comb my hair in vengeance while grumbling – “how long will it take for you to grow to do all on your own? ”
I did never bother about my growth at that age. Although my mom did. After bath , she used to move to bedroom holding my hand wearing a slipper – clap-clap-clap. The tip of her nose was oily , part of blouse was wet. Loose hair fell on her sweated cheeks glued.
Her days were too short to oversee me and my sister , but with individual focus – cooking, joking ,feeding, reading, washing, rushing ,mopping, shopping , laughing with and roughing us up at times . Her nights were too long to discreetly weep in silence – for fatigue, for forgetting that she was ever alone and a young woman, and had her own life striving for becoming a singer, poet or a writer. Or, for that man with receding hairline and steel framed specs holding two sharp and intelligent eyes, whom she never married.
Intermittently, she used to cry killing the silence of midnight – after being beaten by my father. That time, I could see her shadow on the wall from under my blanket as lying frozen in fear. An unhappy and broken woman in night with smudged vermilion and distorted voice. Next morning, I wondered to see her fresher than the sunray. Bathed, combed, smiling – sitting before God with folded hands praying for her children and their dad.
I was fond of pets – birds, dogs and chicks. My mom allowed everyone of them to enter my life and our apartment which had turned to a mini zoo, and took enormous pain and labor to look after them so that her children might feel happy and thus gradually burning her candle of life, till the selection of my better half.
She denied my choice, and uploaded her mind to indicate her possessiveness over me by way of selecting her bosom friend’s deep dark daughter as my would be wife. Being a hot and handsome young man , I was deluged by the love of young feminine curves and of fair complexion of all those models and heroines. I even dreamt of fair babies off fair couple – me and my wife.
Thus the color code of six faded when I was twenty six. Black or dark melted in the blue to see white or off-white emerge. I dared to marry fairy of distinct and aristocrat man’s palace , where maids and servants were all black. My mom was gradually taking track to the darkest corner in moulded tolerance to go unnoticed. My wife made her leave me and house to an old age home. Instead, two white dogs , gifted by father – in - law were accommodated in my flat for security reasons.
So, mom, finally you get a better shade in death –from black to gray in ash. And what about your lifetime sacrifice , love, affection ? Are they as colorless as your breastmilk ?
I transpire to be red as vermilion in shame.
But , I am afraid, they were right. I can not be your son, even if color code of our blood is same or DNA test confirms so.
|READER'S REVIEWS (8)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"This has such a wondeful poetic favor to it. I loved the usage of color in this piece. I was completely tied to the protagonist and that enabled me to continue reading the story. This is simply a wonderful story written well and good enough to be published." -- e. rocco caldwell.
"Dear Author, you are simply brilliant..... I am thrilled to read such a well structured piece on the intricate relation between every mother and her son. Fabulously rich and poetic. " -- Sanjukta Mazumder, Jamshedpur, Jharkand, India.
"V" -- Vishal Gupta, New Delhi, India.
"Quality prose.... Brilliant imagination... Gripping...Reality arrested in words.... Congrats. " -- Himani Misra, New Delhi, India.
"Excellent Prose. Interesting Topic. Main character takes his readers to the end in complete command. Fine , Very fine." -- V. Ranga Rao, Mumbai, Maharastra, India.
"Very well written..... many thanks for such an original piece. " -- Raju Srivastava, Benares, India.
"Kudos to you, Partha Pratim. Strong pen.... poetic flavour but straight hitting... I like it." -- Jyotibhusan Halder, Ranchi, India.
"superb... " -- Brian H, USA.
TO DELETE UNWANTED REVIEWS CLICK HERE! (SELECT "MANAGE TITLE REVIEWS" ACTION)
Submit Your Review for Mom's Color Code
Required fields are marked with (*).
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.
Submit Your Rating for Mom's Color Code
© 2004 Partha Pratim Majumder
|STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
|NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED