Monthly Archives: August 2013

55 Word Stories

A long time ago I had taken part in this blog series called ’55 word stories’ run by Vivek Tejuja.

Everyday you get a theme and then you write a 55 word story on it. Simple.

So here are some of my stories. Thought I’d share them. 

Hope you enjoy them as much as I did writing them!



“So what do your daughters do?” asked the prospective in-laws.

“I have two daughters. The elder one is into interior designing. The younger one constantly gets visions about the future” said Mr. Sharma nervously offering them a samosa.

“What are their names?” they asked.

“Stephanie and Epiphanie” he said as he bit into his samosa.


“Look at these caged animals. Standing behind their bars, begging to be freed.” thought the man as he walked by. He ignored their loud taunts and continued walking. “Don’t feed the animals, that is an order I follow” he said. That night a prisoner starved to death. The jailor was nowhere to be found.


He put the heavy black case on the table. Men in tuxedos surrounded him and murmured. “Open” said the man in black. ‘Click’. He lifted the lid. They all saw the huge bunch of colorful underwear in front of them. It was not a ‘Suit case’. It was a ‘Brief case’.


He loved himself and as long as he had himself he was happy with life. Sometimes he would feel bad at the way he behaved and wondered whether he could ever think of other people. Then he realized that ‘If everyone was an alphabet, he would be a capital letter I’. He doesn’t care anymore.


“Waiter could you please come here?” asked the confused customer. “Put your head near the plate and listen. I can hear words coming out of my dish.” he exclaimed.

“Sir isn’t this what you asked for?” questioned the waiter.

“Talking food?” said the man.

“Yes. You only said. ‘Mutter’ Paneer”

The paneer collectively giggled.


She looked dazzling in that attire, the director just stared awe struck. She danced wildly imagining the people who would go wild looking at her giant breasts. After the take, her make up artist met her backstage. “Madam. Choli ke piche kya hain?”

“Melons” said Madhuri as she removed the fruits.

“Meloncholi madness”. She laughed.


All he ever faced was ridicule. Constant jibes calling him a duffer. Enough was enough. He was not going to stay quiet any longer.

“I am not a stupid mute, I’m just a man of a few words.” he proudly thought.

“Manmohan, come here please” yelled Sonia Gandhi.

“Yes madam”.

Those were his ‘few’ words.


‘Pagalpanti bhi zaroori hain yaar’ she said as she jumped around him. She was getting on his nerves with the cackling and the constant quoting of that slogan. He hated Mirinda and he hated her ‘pagalpanti’. So he stabbed her, with a broken thums up bottle. “Pagalpanti chod” he muttered, “Aaj kuch toofani karte hain”.


He looked at the dead body lying in front of him. He marveled at her perfectly embalmed shape. He had to stop stealing corpses from the morgue. He pulled down his pants. She was inanimate. He got intimate. Together they were soulmates. Mr.Hyde smiled. Poor Jekyll will never know what happened.


He hated his job. The daily struggle of planting flags at assumed danger spots was getting to him. He was seeing numbers all around him, which was driving him crazy. He took a wrong step, there was an explosion and he was dead. The yellow smiley face with sunglasses grimaced. It’s tough being a Minesweeper.


She gently kissed him on his neck and moaned as she felt his fingers reach the pleasure point. She was slowly reaching orgasm and her screams slowly escalated.  Raju paused the video. He knew she was faking it but smiled as he poured some lotion on his hand and waited for the video to buffer.


“Cut” yelled the exasperated director.

“This story is too simple. We need more violence, more warfare and a lot more deaths. You see that fellow with the long hair. Kill him.” he said.

“But sir when will he come back?” asked the puzzled cinematographer.

“In the retake” said God as he walked away.


“Ladies and Gentlemen we will be landing in Delhi soon” said the captain as he unscrewed the cap of his flask. “You know. I like my alcohol like I like my airports” he stated.

The co-captain stared back.

“Domestic! ” he said as he took a swig. They laughed.

The plane never reached the runway.

——— Fin———

Do check out some of the stories written by other people at

Thank you for reading!



Filed under Punny Stories