Skip to main content


‘There’s a courier for you Madam’ the office boy said.

‘Huh,me?’ said Valentina raising her eyebrows not expecting any mail that day.

The office boy nodded.

‘From who?’ asked Valentina.

‘Marlon Brando’

‘Yea right - wonder who pulled this prank?' Valentia said getting up from her chair.
The office boy stood with the parcel in his hand.It was a large square box.You could almost fit a small office cabinet inside it.Valentina noticed drops of sweat on the office boy’s forehead and his hands were shaking.  

‘Must be heavy,I’ll take it' Valentina said gesturing at the boy to come near her mahogany office desk.

The office boy gingerly walked close to the desk.Unsure of the boy’s uneasiness Valentina asked ‘what's the problem,why are you hesitant?’. 

The boy stopped walking. ‘You can tell me, don’t be afraid’ Valentina continued.The office boy mumbled something as Valentina craned her neck for an answer.

‘Listen boy, if something’s worrying you , blurt it out, don’t keep it inside.' Valentina urged.

‘Maam the courier man told me the recipient of this parcel will die the moment this is opened.’

Valentina laughed out loud 'and which movie is this scene from ?'

‘No maam he was serious,he also said the recipient will laugh just the way you are doing now’

Regaining her composure Valentina said ‘cowards die a hundred deaths, the brave die only once!

The office boy stood blankly looking at her.

'Listen,what if I dont accept delivery?’she said.

‘He’s gone, and he said,If I keep it, then I will die.The previous 6 recipients of this parcel are dead, you are the 7th in line.' he said.

‘So how many more to go?’ she asked bemused.

‘You are the last one’. 

Valentina rolled her eyes over with a smirk  and said ‘I now firmly believe that movies can corrupt people's mind! Well if I’m the last one,then so be it – keep it on the table and you can leave’.

The office boy dropped the parcel on the table and hurried out of the office. 

Curious, Valentina pulled the parcel closer and examined it carefully.It was indeed heavy,quite heavy, she had to get up from her chair to pull it closer.She found the cutter in her desk’s upper drawer.

The moment she dug the blade into the top of the parcel,it seemed sticky, as if there was something soft inside the box, like a cake perhaps. As she pulled the cutter back up, a red streak of liquid oozed out. 

It was blood.

Valentina jagged back into her chair instantly.The oscillating air conditioner vent on the ceiling was stuck right in the direction of her forehead.A constant gush of cold air hit her forehead.She clenched her teeth and controlled her shivering hands.

A few seconds passed by and she noticed the blood trickling down from the top of the box on to the mahogany table and then on to the carpet below.Valentina felt paralyzed, her feet were glued to the floor,her hands felt heavy and her heartbeat was erratic.She couldn’t get up from the chair.

Moments later the trickle became a fountain. Slowly the small cut at the top, widened and it appeared to Valentina that the box was opening itself due to the force of the blood oozing from inside.Her face was splattered red and her clothes stained.Her hands stuck to the arm rest and veins near her wrist were bursting out.There was a surge from inside,as if the blood outside connected with the blood inside Valentina’s body.She couldn’t scream,her voice was choked and she found breathing difficult.Just then she heard a knock on the door.

The accountant Robert, her peer, stood outside the door and called out ‘Valentina, where are you?’ There was no response.

‘Ms.Valentina, where are you, Its 6 oclock I need to close the books,if youre’ going to be late then…’  Robert paused as he glanced on a parcel lying on top of the table, unopened. He walked close to the mahogany desk and looked at the top of the box. 

It was addressed to him. 

Surprised  to see his parcel lying at Valentina’s office he frowned and checked if it was opened before. But there was no sign of any damage, the parcel looked intact. Glancing on the sender he thought ‘now who is this Marlon Brando – I don’t know anyone by that name’. Just then the office boy walked in to the room and Robert turned around as if to ask why he was there.

‘Oh I was actually looking for you Robert – I had a courier for you and accidentally kept it at Valentina maam’s office. This office has just too much mail these days'.

‘Ah yes ,I totally agree,we should add some heads in the operations department,I will make a recommendation to senior management’ said Robert pursing his lips.

The office boy looked up and said ‘you just made my day! I will place the parcel at your desk right away, it’s a bit heavy you know’.

Oh really, that’s nice of you - I’ll open it on my desk’ said Robert walking out of the room.

The office boy lowered his head and whispered into the box ‘yup,two heads better than one!’

Gyanban Thoughts  - A horror genre after a long time. The title Mailfactor is a take from the word Malefactor which means a person who commits a crime. Also a famous short story by Anton Chekov by the same name.The fiction here is for you to visualize and feel the chill from seemingly unassuming objects and people in our daily lives.


  1. Horrified!! :o

  2. I LOVE the horror genre.. and totally loved this one! was rooted the whole time with only my eyeballs moving from left to right...!

  3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.


Post a Comment

Say it only if you mean it -

Popular posts from this blog


‘I need some rest, else I’ll be late for school.’ she said blurring.
‘The doctors are on their way’ he said. She stood motionless, staring blankly at the cameras, Volcanic debris had trapped her legs.Hidden below the ground, gangrene ate into her calves, as she faded.13 year old Omayra’s death was captured live.

Gyanban Thoughts - Nevado Del Ruiz volcano erupted on November 13,1985 which killed nearly 25,000 people in Armero, Columbia. Omayra could have escaped, but stopped to save her sibling from the oncoming volcanic lava. Her legs got trapped in the deris of her own home.When rescue teams arrived they realized that she could not be extracted without amputating her legs. She died with gangrene and hypothermia.She began hallucinating in her last moments. World news covered this they say saw Omayra die a slow painful death.For 3 days her pain and agony was captured by television crews but one photograph went on to capture the imagination of the world. Frank Fournier captu…


Hunger and shelter kill people.

Finding a place in the prime Borough is like finding a diamond in a coal mine. Mum used to say, learn to adjust, and you will find what you want. After all, these little adjustments, are a part of the fucking parcel of life. Huh. 

It would be exactly nine months on the first of April since I moved into the plush Toccata penthouse. It had soft caramel undertones on the walls and the Renoir’s, one on each side, caught my gaze on the first day. Instinctively, I knew, it was the house I wanted. As the landlady walked ahead of me, notes of coffee, pink pepper, cedar, and cinnamon oozed from her swaying hips, sucking me into a deep hallucinogenic state. Fuck me. 

I couldn’t bungle this one up, unlike the previous eight houses. Terrible, they were. “No late-night partying or substances, pills, injections, powders, got it?” She said breaking my gaze. Yes, she had the vocabulary. I am the shy type, so I lowered my head and nodded gently but my head was still spinni…


It's 5AM and the clock is late,
the rush to dress up and change my fate,
but the wrinkle is annoying the mane,
and the greys are flaying the vein,
I carry the mirror in mind,
leave the resigned sigh behind.

The train is packed with eyes,
I stand under the strain of lights
the dark skin is brighter,
maybe they'll like me better,
their shampoos leave no clue,
only the fan comes to my rescue.

Waiting for the elevator,
a minty breath drifts over the shoulder,
the noose around my neck chokes
gasps for breath and the heart pokes
the lights are incandescent inside
empty faces on the outside.

The tube-light and the guard flickers
People wearing strange monikers
floating close to the floor
a door opens, the stupor
he sashays along leaving them behind,
my eyes lose him and hope to find.

Clocks go by and the hours shiver
the cardigan shrugs off and the  lips quiver
a sudden surge of reason, cold air ,
aimlessly slides off my ruffled hair
witness  to the porcelain teapot stare,
bits an…