Purvang Joshi

Word Wizardry

I cannot write


I cannot write about the butterflies that wander around the lilies and sunflowers on a sunny day nor about how they tickle my stomach when we kiss while cuddling.
I cannot write about the waves of water that brush the soft sand of beach uncountable times a day nor about how the waves of your hair brush your cheeks while you are working on your sketches.
I cannot write about the sparkling glow of the starry sky with a bright moon shining with them nor about your sparkling eyes that comes handy with your shining smile.
I cannot write about the mountains and valleys and all the beautiful landscapes that God has created nor about your perfect body as if carved by the God himself.
I cannot write about the depth of oceans or the purity of Ganges nor about the beauty of your virtuous heart or the wisdom of your witty brain.
I cannot write about you

nor about love

nor about how much I loved you

and nor about how much you didn’t.
-Purvang J.

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Short Stories




It was all good and happening. We were all enjoying our favourite movie after dinner. The main door firmly locked, just in case if a thief would try to rob our house despite Ramsingh guarding our apartment every night. We’d rarely sit like this, the whole family, four of us together. Paa’s working hours used to change regularly and Maa’s kitty parties and parlour business kept her busy all day long. So it was always the two of us, my brother and me, who got along as something you can call a family. By the end of the movie, we had my favourite ice cream and then at around 12:30, we went to sleep. It was hard for me to understand if I was dreaming or if it was real when Maa shook me hard to wake me up, because my brother, aged 26 was suffering from severe chest pain. We went quickly to the nearest hospital but to no avail, my brother passed away in the ambulance because of a heart attack.

To my parents, they had lost someone they’d have reached out to as their first support when they’d have grown old and to me, I had lost someone whom I had always looked up to.

Even as he laid on his deathbed, he looked as handsome as ever, bright as the sun with a beaming smile for which all girls could fall easily.

The three of us sit together. I feel as if one leg of a firm, beautiful armchair has been cut off and the armchair is asked to stand normal. The main door is locked as usual. Maa is sitting with old albums, showing Paa each and every picture of Bhai. Spring is approaching and strong winds are blowing outside, bidding farewell to winter. Winds so strong that they occasionally shake the doors of our balconies and seldom give a mild tremor to our main door as if all those winds want to rush inside our home.

Irritated by this constant disturbance, my mom asks to shut all the doors tightly to which I wonder, what if this is him?
What if this is Bhai, trying to get inside our home again and this is just his own way of homecoming?

-Purvang J.

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Word Wizardry

The 10th Anniversary


I opened the door and quietly sneaked in. The clock said 11:25 pm and I found her having a sound sleep on our king sized bed that we gifted to ourselves on our last anniversary. The room was silent unlike the nights when we made love and she filled the room with her moans. I pulled the dressing table stool beside the bed at her side and sat there against the night lamp. The lamp scattered its dim light on our last vacation trip photo that we took on the beach. Her eyes showed love for me, at least in that picture. I trusted her all the way long about the Urdu tattoo, believing that she had inked my name on the inside of her wrist until last week, when I found about her not so ex-lover. I took out the gold ring from her finger and slid it into my pocket while reaching out for the knife from the other one. The sleeping pills in the wine at the dinner had worked perfectly. After flicking her hair beside her ear, I gave her one last peck and out of a feeling which I cannot define, I slid her wrist with the knife along the name written on it. The clock then said 11:45 pm and I stood there wondering how she turned a psychopath into a virtuous man and then into a homicidal maniac. 15 minutes more and we would be celebrating our 10th marriage anniversary. I had already made arrangements for us to celebrate it together, probably not in this world. A rope hanging onto the ceiling hook with a chair under it were waiting for me in the storeroom. Not to keep her waiting, I rushed through the hallway past our children’s bedroom. Standing in front of the storeroom door and catching my final breaths, without giving a second thought about my two seven year boys, I opened the door and quietly sneaked in.

-Purvang J.

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Word Wizardry

Once and for all


–Once and for all–
After taking 4 shots of vodka, I take you to the hotel room, half drunk.

The same one where you took me to, 3 years back.

Curious and soaked in lust, you ask me what I have for you today.

Smiling wickedly, I wink and ask you to find it by yourself.

As you open the door of the room, you find chains and whips for the night.

Still soaked in lust, you undress and start chaining yourself to bed as it is now your turn to be the slave.

I help you with the remaining chains before I take the whip in my hand.

After a seductive dance, I start beating you with the whip until the point when you realize that it is no sexual roleplay today.

I laugh at your screaming pleas as you beg me to stop just like you laughed at mine, when I begged you to stay, 3 years back.

You are a toy to me today just like my feelings and me were to you.

How my hands and openings helped you every time you got soaked in lust?

How my heart got tamed every time you said that you loved me with all your heart when all you wanted from me was to clutch your erection and let you fuck me hard?

After dressing myself again, I take out a butcher’s knife from my bag to tame your erection, once and for all.

Shutting my ears from your deafening screams, I cut your prick from its root and gently place it in your hand.

I leave the room with a message on the wall written with your spilled blood that reads, ‘JERK YOURSELF DARLING’.
-Purvang J.

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Word Wizardry



And last night you appeared in my dreams, like the Sun comes out in monsoon once in a while only to cheer up the gloomy sunflowers, to make them bright, yellow and happy.
Your voice fell onto my eardrums and reverberated in my mind, reminding me the times when I used to sit all night listening to your compositions, old and new.
Your eyes blinked beautifully, like our favourite stars blinked at night when we used to sit at the riverside in summers, and you’d allow the cold breeze to let your hairs ruffle a bit, allowing them to brush against your soft cheeks.
You stood right there in front of me, your eyes staring right into mine, my arms held wide open, ready to hold you closer than ever, only this time tight enough to not allow you to leave.
I had decided that this time I would lock this moment, along with us and the Sun and the stars and the breeze and the riverside and the whole Universe. I had decided that I would lock up everything and keep it inside a Horcrux of love, safe and sound.
When I had just touched your skin, you disappeared into the air, mingling with each particle of wind that existed there and blew away as if taking all the smells of the world with you. By the time I could realize where you were, you had blown really far away from me, making all of my senses sore and eventually waking me up from a dream this beautiful.
And in that moment, I had not wished to make my favourite superheroes come out of the comics nor to make the vampires real nor I had wished to have anything else that I had wanted to have for my whole life except one thing­ –
I wished that somehow you would become alive again, that you would come back from your grave, from that dark labyrinth, from that Horcrux of death.

-Purvang J.

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