Aarushikrishnan

United States of America

18
Chicago-Bangalore
Writing soothes my soul
Drop a comment on any of my works if you want a peer review and I shall be there for you!

Published Work

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

first love, last love

He could not stop staring at her.

She was wearing the dress she had wanted so desperately, and he had saved up until he was able to get it for her. Her makeup was done proffesionally, and it made her look beautiful in a way he was not used to. 

He took hold of her hand, hesitantly. He traced the lines of her palm, then held on like he was never letting go.

He looked into her face for a pregnant moment, then shut the lid to the coffin. No father should ever have to attend their daughter's funeral.

Micro Memoir

The Wait

Tonight, in the infinite dark, we wait.

All of us, together yet alone. So cold our teeth chatter in synchrony. The hair on our arms stand up straight, and we do not know if it's the chill or the restless anticipation. No one utters a word; the silence speaks volumes.

Yesterday does not matter. No one knows how the others have got here, or where they are going. We live different lives; different starts, different journeys. Yesterday some of us sobbed in grief. Some of us laughed until our lungs gasped for breath. We don't know each other stories, and we do not need to. We are in the moment, the glorious moment. 

We start with the energy bursting out of us. The wait will pass, we tell ourselves Our legs thrum in anticipation, grins curve high on our faces. We are undefeatable. 

But slowly, we get pulled down. The middle is the hardest; too far from the start and...

Matryoshka

 
 
Abbas was always hungriest at dusk.

When he arose at dawn he had enough tasks to distract him from the constant gnawing at his stomach, and whatever scraps he allowed himself for the day pulled him through the afternoon. While the sun was setting, however, as he waited for sleep to steal him away again, there was nothing to divert his attention from the fact that he was soon going to starve to death.

Hunger was not a pleasant topic to dwell on, but it was far from the worst. Abbas had not left his house for more than three months. He had spent the last four days completely alone, and the cause for his isolation was the reason he was unable to close his eyes at night. Before the start of the war, he had thought that the worst of his problems was belonging to a family of immigrants. Now he was a fifteen year old Turk...

Möbius

We grow fat on the sweet lie that hope is kind
That hope is Pandora’s lone sentinel, 
Something forgiving and nurturing.
Hope is but a mirror separating god and man
For first god created man in his own image,
Then man created god in his.
 
We crucify our hatred into something pious
Since our god can do no wrong, of course.
We wield signs demanding we ban the immigrants,
So that Jesus can take the long road back to Nazareth.
We declare that god hates fags,
Because our god is not known for being compassionate.
 
It is so easy to be on the side of good when we define what is good.
Our hearts beat easy knowing we follow the word of god,
Though our god is nothing but a false shadow of our heartless desires.
No god is worth following if his word holds more value than the life of man.
Our divine hate births a catalyst...

Twenty Songs of Despair and a Love Poem

(Note: Please read footnotes for poem explanation) 

As we walked together on the shores of the sea
My extravagant heart blooms again.
The water I taste is warm, and salt, like the sea,
In its autumn tint of gold.
 
So many things seem filled with the intent,
A lonely impulse of delight.
Grains of the golden sand
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
 
Our world in stupor lies
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
Let us go hence: the night is now at hand.
 
There is no room in the halls of pleasure
Till our grief is fled and gone.
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning,
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep.
 
For it was my heart you moved among them,
I wonder if it weighs like mine.
We drink it at midday and...

TwentyFour

And then I woke up.

I try to blink my sleep away, the dream already fading. I have no time to ponder on it, though- I can hear the bell ringing from upstairs. Mistress is awake.

I open the door to her room with five minutes to spare, and only slightly out of breath.  She glides out of her chambers, immaculate as always. ‘Come,’ she says, not sparing me a glance. ‘We can’t be late.’

We get onto the hovercraft, and I finally have a moment to myself. As Mistress guides our small ship effortlessly, I think about my dream. Try as I might, I can’t remember any of the particulars, except for one. I can recall the emotion which I had felt- terror. Pure, undulated terror.

I hear the buzz of the autopilot setting in place, and I’m forced to leave the ruminations of my subconscious alone for a moment. As always, Mistress comes first.

I get her breakfast...

The Vistas Beyond

Mirror in Disguise

She looks out of the window, then recoils, startled to see a pair of eyes peering back at her, eyes boarded by steel-barred windows and fringed with an orange jumpsuit. 

She's hesitant, wanting to take a second glance at the prisoner, but she knows she cannot dwadle; she is a prisoner as well, in her own way. 

The slim gold ring on her fourth finger is heavier than any shackle could be. 
 

Mini Contest!

Hey guys! I'm very happy to announce that I've been accepted into Johns Hopkins University with a full scholarship, and will be attending with the 2023 batch next fall!

In honor of my new college, I've made a mini contest for you guys! JHU's color is blue, so I want you to write a mini story or poem with the theme 'blue'. Much like my last contest, the theme can be interpreted in any way you like- literally, metaphorically, the choice is yours! 

Matching my graduating year, all entries must be EXACTLY 23 words, no more and no less. Title your pieces #23foraarushi (doesn't the rhyme sound nice) so I can find your pieces with ease. Since the body of the piece is so small, I think there'll be a bunch of winners, each who gets a follow and a review on a piece of their choice. 

By the way, I'm thinking of providing an essay review service for college applicants over...

Keeping Still

Before lemmings bash their brains to bits
On the miserly claws of the cliffs below 
They stand absolutely still
As if imagining the corpses they are soon to be

I watch you, so silent amidst the cacophony 
Of life
And wish I could stop the world from turning 
If just for a moment
So that I can see you come alive with movement 
As you used to

Take my hand
And close your weary eyes
Take my hand
And bolt.

My December Writing Competition 2018

The Scrapbook Girl

'Chellam, come down!'

My mother's voice barely registers. This scene- me in my room, my mother calling me from the kitchen- is so familiar to me that the Tamil sprouting from her lips no longer confuses me, and I now have a strong enough grip of the language to warble back a reply. 'Give me two minutes!'

This is a lie and I know it. I do know that right now, my place is downstairs. My extended family is in the living room, waiting to meet me and exalt over me in a way only Asians know how. They seem to be more proud of my accomplishments than I am.

But I can't tear myself away from my laptop. The calendar on my desktop diligently counts away days at the same pace it always has, heedless of my rising panic. College application season is upon me, and I feel so very unprepared for the life of quasi-adulthood that awaits. As I pour through...

Competition results!!

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, I'm in my senior year and the last month got really crazy.

Anyways, here are the reults for my first ray contest! I wasn't expecting so many enteries, and the quality of work really blew me away. I loved every single piece SO much, but here are the winners-

Third place- We have a tie! I was so torn between these two pieces because they deserve it equally, so in the end I had to hand it to them both!

'these are the words I will never tell you' by ​jengelman 
I LOVE all their poems so much, definetly give their page a follow! 

Also in third, 'your two minutes of static' by artificialaorta I'm a sucker for imagery, and this piece has some of the best I've ever seen.

Second place- 'The Zeannaby ​korra4life
Unique, powerful, and moving, it was exactly the sort of work I was looking for.
...

My December Writing Competition 2018

The Scrapbook Girl

'Chellam, come down!'

My mother's voice barely registers. This scene- me in my room, my mother calling me from the kitchen- is so familiar to me that the Tamil sprouting from her lips no longer confuses me, and I now have a strong enough grip of the language to warble back a reply. 'Give me two minutes!'

This is a lie and I know it. I do know that right now, my place is downstairs. My extended family is in the living room, waiting to meet me and exalt over me in a way only Asians know how. They seem to be more proud of my accomplishments than I am.

But I can't tear myself away from my laptop. The calendar on my desktop diligently counts away days at the same pace it always has, heedless of my rising panic. College application season is upon me, and I feel so very unprepared for the life of quasi-adulthood that awaits.​Even as I pour through...

Announcement!!!!

Just a lil' reminder to let you know that there is LESS THAN ONE WEEK left for the completion of my competition!

Here are the fast facts-

Topic/theme- "first ray"
DeadlineNovember 28th
No word limit, all writing styles accepted 
Please title it #firstraycontest


If you want some in-depth details, the official competiton announcement is one of my most recent posts :)
I received some wonderful entries, and I can't wait to read more!!

Aarushi :)



Thanks  Mangolover for reminding me to repost :) 
 

#paperbirdcontest -On Pins and Needles

Nearly all of the drug had entered Dave Bahk’s bloodstream when the door to the Silver Lotus tattoo parlor clanged open.
 
Startled, Dave dropped the syringe, obscenities spewing from his lips just as fast as the fluid spewed onto the floor. Only when he calmed down did he realize what the sound of the door meant- he had a customer.
 
He looked towards the service counter, only to be jarred once again. The man standing there was as far from the regular clientele of the Silver Lotus as Dave could possibly imagine. He had to be sixty, at the very least, with the posture of a man who no longer found the view of the sunset a sweet enough reward to fight the will of gravity for. Biting back a multitude of scathing one-liners, Dave rose to his feet.  His mother’s tremulous voice rang in his ears- “Always be polite to those who were born before you, ...

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

The Chamber

These red walls hold many millennia of power. 
From this lush alcove springs forth fresh life, 
In a cycle of never-ending rejuvenation,
A Mobius strip of vitality. 
The chamber is oft in danger, 
For the others fear what they do not possess, 
In silent awe of this immovable magic.
But the chamber grows, billions in number.
A woman's womb is so very precious, indeed.

Announcement!!!!

Just a lil' reminder to let you know that there are about three weeks left for the completion of my competition!

Here are the fast facts-

Topic/theme- "first ray"
DeadlineNovember 28th
No word limit, all writing styles accepted 
Please title it #firstraycontest


If you want some in-depth details, the official competiton announcement is one of my most recent posts :)
I received some wonderful entries, and I can't wait to read more!!

Aarushi :)
 

It's contest time!!

Hear ye, hear ye

I'm holding a contest as you can tell by now, and I'm excited to see what you can come up with! I think it'll run for a month (till November 28th) but I might increase or decrease the time depending on the number of entries. 

My name comes from a Sanskrit phrase, which translates to "the first ray of sunlight". I want your pieces to have a first ray anywhere it in. It can be metaphorical, literal, or even just someone's name, like mine is! I'll judge your pieces on how well you integrated the theme of "first ray" into it, as well as general writing voice and style. Please title your entries #firstraycontest so I can find your pieces easily :)

I'll make an official review for every entry, and follow each participant if I don't already. Here are the prizes-
1st- shout-out, 7 peer reviews, and I'll like and comment on 10 of my favorite pieces...

Once the World Was...

Eugenics

Once the world was pure.

I remember a time when only the worthy roamed my homeland, but evil seeps everywhere, and even my beautiful country has been corrupted by those vile creatures.

I serve in the army, and the only thing worse than all the bloodshed I've seen is the infestation of lesser beings plaguing us. Our land was perfect once, its potential endless, and it is possible to get it back to where it once was. Once we exterminate the weak, the deserving can take control of the world. And I believe I have the power to lead the new nation to victory.

"Are you coming, Adolf?" I turn around and see Mengele, my chief scientist.
I nod and stand up. "Come, it's time to go. It's a long ride to Auschwitz."
 

Your World in Three Senses

The Sense Called Love

He could not stop staring at her.
She was wearing the dress she had wanted to buy forever, and he had saved up till he was able to get it for her. Someone professional had done her makeup, and it made her look beautiful in a way he was not used to. 

He leant closer to her, and was struck by a waft of her perfume. Well, it wasn't her perfume exactly. Someone must have sprayed theirs on her to prepare her for this, and he felt an irrational burst of spite towards whoever managed to do that little thing with her. Love makes fools of us all, he thought to himself offhandedly.

He took hold of her hand, hesitantly. It was so much drier than he expected, but he held on like he's never letting go.

He looked into her face for a pregnant moment, then shut the lid to the coffin. No father should ever have to...

Crazy Pills

It’s been three hours since we’ve left the psychiatrist, and I’m still reeling.

Some things should be left in the realm of movies, you know? Kisses in the rain sound amazing in theory, until you get the flu the next day. Dramatic fights never work out the way cinema would make you expect. And as for over-the-top diagnoses… yeah, not really something you want for yourself.

My mom is her usual fluttery self. “It’s going to be alright baby, don’t worry. It isn’t as if anything’s different, right? This is just something you always had, that some person has put a label on.”

Lovely words, mom. Things take a bit of a turn when you realize that the label in question is schizophrenic.

We spend the rest of our ride in mock peace, and by the time we’re home I’m rearing to leave.

“Where are you off to, honey?” I look at my mother, and the open wanton...

Speech Writing Competition 2018

Those Damned Teens

Teenagers, they say.

They say it with a sneer, as an insult.

Because to them there is few things worse to be open, to be strong, to be alive.          

They come from a time where voices could not sing, and change is too much for them.

When we raise our voices, and let them shout, they fail to realize that we are rallying behind a message, that our words are not just hot air blowing into the void.

When children are treated as objects and not people, I raise my voice. When they are dehumanized, I let my voice soar high.

I rally now, because when I needed it, nobody raised their voice for me.

When I wanted a shoulder to lean on, I had nobody.
When I needed an ear for all my sadness, I had nobody.
When I craved two strong arms wrapped around me, I had nobody.

I have lived with depression for...

Water Drop

Dinosaur pee

"EEEWWWWW!"

I smile indulgently at the twenty-odd kids in front of me, who at seven years old are still able to seem sweet while repulsed. Their faces are twisted in that exaggerated manner children seem stuck in, and it is quite a while before anyone is able to speak.

"You're joking, right?" asks Eli hesitantly. "Water isn't made of dinosaur...pee?" 

I step in before my grade can go through another round of shrieking. "I promise I'm not joking, Eli! We learned about the water cycle last week, remember grade? What did we learn happens to water at the end of the cycle?" 

Nora raises her arm ramrod-straight. "Water gets reused!"

I nod warmly at her; it always helps to have a few vocal ones in a classroom. "Exactly right, Nora! At the end of each cycle water goes back to the veeerrrryyy top of the cycle once again, just it time for it to start! 

But do you realize what...

Impermanence

Senescence

Change mirrors autumn
As the leaves turn black and die
So does the blue sky

Personal Essay Competition: Making Change 2018

The Power Within

Ever since I was five years old, there has been no doubt in my mind that I was going to one day become a superhero. I had whiled away one-too-many frigid Chicagoan winters huddled up under comforters, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen, dreaming of the time I could join the elite. I had it all planned out- my dazzling suit, my witty catchphrases- and it was going to be divine. Granted, I was yet to figure out what exactly my superpower was going to be, but I was sure that through time (and puberty!) things would sort themselves out.

My carefully laid out plans came grinding to a halt just a few years later. To my immense shock and displeasure, I found out that I was moving to India- a country I had never been to in my life, which conjured up half- forgotten tales of an extended family whom I had never met.  As I...