Write Club Anthology – Open for Entries

After the success of our first anthology

“Of Blood and Ink”

We’ve decided to do it again! This time, it’s an open contest!

Pen down a write up on the below theme and send it to us!



The unknown and unpredictable communication with an object or a person that caused an event to result in a certain way rather than another

What happens when you unexpectedly face someone?

What do you do when you have your first encounter with something?

When was the last time you had an unexpected or casual meeting with someone or something?

Tell us all about a fascinating encounter that turned tables over!

November 25th


  • The participant should have attended Write Club at least twice (2 times) until the date of submission.

What’s in it for you?

An opportunity to have an entry into a book of Write Club’s anthology of short stories for this year. We know by experience, how satisfying and difficult it can be for your words to see the light of day. Helping even a handful of talented writers get their words into the world, online or on-paper is the goal of this anthology.

What wins the contest?

  • 10 well-written write-ups with plausible structure, captivating characters, and gripping narratives.
  • We love writers who show that they do!
  • Feel free to take some risks, if you wish!
  • Let your words make us think, feel and express! And you’re a winner.
  • Explore writing forms and genres, we accept them all as long as it adheres to our theme — stories, poems — fiction, nonfiction, and even beyond.


  1. The theme should be Inherent and Integral to the write-up!
  2. Submissions must be your original work and no longer than 3,500 words.
  3. We will accept previously published work as long as the piece is eligible to be republished. Include information about previous publications at the end of the document.
  4. Please submit your entry as a Word document (.doc or .docx). Don’t forget to add in your name (pseudonyms accepted)!
  5. Include the title in a header on each page.
  6. You can NOT submit more than one piece.
  7. If you are simultaneously submitting a story to other publications, please let us know. And if it’s accepted elsewhere, please withdraw the piece immediately.
  8. Entries submitted after the deadline will not be considered.
  9. The entries must be sent to writeclubhyd@gmail.com

In case of any further questions about anything at all,

Write to us at writeclubhyd@gmail.com



The Present

He looked into her eyes, desperate to know how things would end. He tried to read her eyes, which refused to give away the climax of the story of his life. He wondered if he should defend himself. What was the point though, his voice of reason said. Her name was tied to his fate, and his name to hers. There was nothing he could do to change things.

Her arms were bare. He could see his initial on her right bicep. ‘A’, the Alpha. He knew that the rest of his name was tattooed on the arm, followed by his social security number. It was proper protocol to let the enemy know that this was beyond the petty decisions of a human mind. He wondered if she would kill him slowly, or make it quick.

Her dusty clothes indicated that she had travelled a long way to find him. It was possible that his mother’s trick could have kept him alive for a lot longer, except he couldn’t do it anymore. The urge to find her was too great.

Sorry Matri, he thought to himself. I can’t live for you when I’m meant to die for her. This is someone I was meant to be with. Continue reading

Joker’s Day

Batman and Joker have a conversation in hell.

‌J : I did not get expect you of all people to be here. The protector of Gotham.

‌B: I did want to chase you to the depths of hell. Looks like my wish has been granted.

‌J: Tell me, have you met your parents yet ?

‌B: Even here, you just can’t resist poking at me can you ?

‌B: Are you afraid ?

‌J: You tell me. Should I be ?

‌B: Oh Yes. You should be.

‌J: Am not scared of you bat freak !!

‌B: Oh not of me. No… You see there over in the distance. The devil’s helper torturing the poor sod. Molten iron in the mouth and all ?

‌J : Yes…

‌B: And all he did was kill a man in self-defense.

‌J: I can’t even wait to imagine what they will do with you.

Continue reading

Love and other Drugs

Josh and Emma, were so in love. Not just with one another but with the psychedelia they experienced together. They considered themselves to have been paired in a realm that is not quite close to the reality we see. Their meetings were very less remembered soberly. Being in a state of trance was like in a character that was so relatable to each other, that it made them forget that a sober world existed.
They were the so cute drug addict a couple, which seemed to be a relationship goal that no one confesses.
They were in a community that allowed them to get high on their own supply and also make a living out of. Everything was just a transaction. They sold drugs to people from all around the world. What they lived in was paradise. Amsterdam. Need I say anymore.

Emma was a runaway foster child who grew up in the ruins of Brazil. Josh was a spoilt millionaire offspring. They met in Amsterdam and just like in the movies they knew they were for each other. They stayed together and worked out of their garage. They got their supply from Johor Bahu, a small unknown district in the South of Malaysia. They arrived at Johor Bahu and received their consignment from Mallorca. The purest form of Heroin and phoenix was developed nowhere in the world but here.  If there was any sobriety left in their lives that was only when they travelled across the ocean to collect their supply. Continue reading


“Gini, close the TV and get to bed now,” she heard her mom shout from the kitchen.

Gini ignored her voice, her eyes focused on Shin Chan’s adventure. She knew her mom would shout two-three times more from the kitchen before finally coming over to shut the TV. Shin Chan’s show would be over by then.

This was a pattern they followed every school day. When she returned from school, Asha the maid would come to pick her and Rooi from the school bus. After changing out of her uniform, she would have lunch and a short nap. At 4 PM, Rooi would come to her house to call her. Rooi was her best friend and lived in the same floor, in the opposite house. Rooi’s mom made sure they finished their homework before going to play.

Around 7 PM, Gini’s mom would return from work, dump her bag and head to the park where the kids were playing. Gini was usually thrilled when she saw her mom there. She looked really nice in her office clothes. The only time when she wished her mom would go away was when she to join her and her friends in their game. That was super-embarrassing.

Later, after dinner, Gini got to watch Cartoon Network before sleeping.

Gini didn’t realize when she had finally slept off. But, she awoke when mom picked her up and carried her to the bed. She didn’t want to get up to brush her teeth, so she pretended to be fast asleep when her mom tried to wake her up. She knew her mom wouldn’t force her awake. She felt her mom gently kiss her cheeks, before leaving the room.

A part of her was happy that she managed to fool her mom; the other part was too tired to gloat. Continue reading

Memories in a cassette

“Papa”, a six-year-old girl tugged at her father’s shirt at a regulated pace, three tugs at a time. Her obsession to numbers was in it’s primal phase.

“Um, yes – yes my dear”, Raju fumbled as he searched for the cassette player on the top shelf, with a Bala Murali Krishna cassette picked out already on one side.

“Papa, do I look like mamma?”, she asked jumping to get on the bed by the shelf.

“Who said so, honey?”, he said. He was too lost in the thoughts of a million things to think clear and give undivided attention to his darling daughter. She managed to finally get one leg on the bed with the other dangling out of balance between the floor and the bed.

“Everybody! Why don’t I look like you? I want to be like you, papa!”, she demanded.

Raju looked back and chuckled at his bewildered daughter, barely scraping on the edges of the mattress to seat herself on the bed.

He lifted her up in the air, high enough for her curly black locks to fly about. He planted a kiss on her blush cheeks. Settling her on his lap, he replied to her innocent question. Continue reading


Click, click, click. I couldn’t stop staring at the fan.

Its slight pendulous swing was as mesmerising as it was terrifying.

How old was it, I wondered.

How strong are the wires that are keeping it from falling?

Not too strong anymore; they were ragged, visible through the drywall that had fallen away with time.

It was Impossible to distinguish one blade apart from another. Continue reading

Little Ming

’You can live without money, you can even go hungry. But you cannot live without a friend.’ That’s what my dad said before putting the dog into my unsuspecting arms. I nearly dropped him, when I felt his puppy paws on my hands.

“Dad, I cannot take care of myself, how will I take care of this dog?!” I yelled.

“He’s not going to be a burden; we are going to train him so that he can take care of you, Bo.”

”All the other boys will walk their dogs and mine will walk me.” I sneered. No reply. There was silence. No one ever says anything back to me anymore. They become silent and wait till I cool down.

“It’s alright Bo.”

“We understand honey.”

“This is not you talking.”

“We know how difficult this is for you.”  Mum would say rubbing my back and then bursting into tears. That was the most frustrating one. I had to quench my anger and tell mum that I am okay.

I am not okay. I do not feel okay. My world will never be okay. I once had dreams and -things to look forward to- but now everything is just dark. Continue reading

The Classroom

The mission was to De-cliché the romantic prompt — “If you’re a bird…I’m a bird.” From The Notebook.

John had always thought her brave. The way she walked with her head held high. Agni. Courageous in the face of fire. Courageous in the face of fat. She walked tall with heavy, sure footsteps. As graceful as a hippopotamus, Sunny always sniggered. Well, he had always thought that hippos were graceful creatures. Her hair always looked unwashed to him. Sunny told him that it’s over-washed but under-conditioned, that’s why the frizz. Sunny was small and scrawny for her age but had two glamourous elder sisters who knew everything there was to know about hair, skin and beauty. “Tanya di always says John has beautiful eyes. You should get contact lenses, she says.” Sunny sat next to him just before school assembly and passed him her breakfast of peanut butter, jam and banana sandwiches. “Aha. Are you sure you don’t want to eat this? Sun?” John asks her. “No way. You can finish it.” Sunny replies, jumping off the parapet they were sitting on and stood in the typical Sunny fashion, which meant that he should hurry up and finish the food.

John was trying to chew and ignore Sunny and stare at Agni walking to their class. This was his morning ritual. His secret morning ritual. He wanted to tell Sunny about his long-standing crush on Agni, but Sunny hated her without knowing or understanding fully why she hated her. At almost 13, Sunny was older than him by a few months but still looked about 10. Agni looked like an adult. She was plump and soft where Sunny was stick thin. Agni was the tallest person in their class, where Sunny was among the shortest. Agni was taller than John by a head, but he knew that soon he would grow tall and big. “Puberty was around the corner for you, John.” Tanya didi had said. Sunny had gotten angry at her sister and had thrown a kiddy fit. Puberty was definitely not around the corner for Sunny. John knew it instinctively that telling her about his crush on Agni would rift them apart in an unnameable way. Sunny would see it as a betrayal. Of John leaving Sunny alone in their shared childhood and venturing out in the adult world on his own.

Continue reading

‘Of Blood and Ink’ – Grab a copy of our newest anthology, right NOW!


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