“There amid the blue flowers, fair as the flowers themselves, sat the lady of my dreams. Her eyes, black as midnight, dreamt on as she held the petals close to her heart. Her long hair and shimmery wings ruffled in the wind, thrumming my heart strings.
And, in that moment, I fell in love with the fairy.”
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Stats: 1 year, 300+ Posts, 5600+ Views, 186 Followers
WOOHOOOOOO!!!
Fish in the Trees is my alter ego. It stands for my unique position as a true Gemini. (Ever saw that horoscope picture with two people looking in different directions? That’s me.) I have always been looking in two directions or more–trying to see both sides of the coin, skewing my perspective like a fish-eye lens. I have a traditional small-town upbringing, but am plagued with question-itis (the habit of asking pain-in-the-ass questions) and conform-o-phobia (the fear of conforming with status quo). My blog follows suit.
It makes both of us forever misfits, like a shellfish in the trees.
Fish in the trees only had five posts till mid-last year, all of which I deleted. On the night of 15th June last year, I decided to rebirth this site and moved in stuff from my earlier site Fly on the Wall (that no one read). Since then, I have written every week, twice a week, daily… Yup! I’m that crazy!
Now after one year, here are 10 posts that I am proud of…okay 18…It is rather difficult to pick your favourite child, and I have over 300.
Enjoy!
Teary-eyed, they put up the sign to let the wanderers know, a fairy rests under the forest floor.
Photo by Chris on Unsplash
All night, I sat by the calm sea,
a place untouched by pain or ecstasy,
moonlit with the cool charm of nothingness.
At dawn, I saw you,
warm and sweet.
Entranced, I took wings.
As you drew closer, I pushed
to close the miles between.
My wings ached.
Your bright halo
burnt through my sight
but losing your light scared me.
Searing heat burnt me
but I was a marionette on strings.
Pain unknown assaulted me.
Reason told me to turn back.
Still, ecstatic to reach you,
I inched forward
until I was but ashes…
that were far beneath you…
There she was,
looking fresh out of the bath,
dressed in her red
that quickened
the pace of my heart,
sitting at her favourite spot.
I wondered
whether
she’ll notice me today,
sitting next to her
for the nth time this year.
She winked
at the passing Porsche,
crushing my hopes.
Well, perhaps tomorrow…
Photo by Hrayr Movsisyan on Unsplash
I have been seeing too many crazy neighbours during lockdown and I am dedicating them a series.
Athena, the eagle, is the queen of my area. Most birds give her a wide berth in the sky and if she swoops lower, they rush to hide and avoid her wrath. I’m a fan of her grace. In theory, I knew she preys upon birds too. But I never saw it before that fateful day.
I was up early that morning and the world was full of twittering and tweeting. I could see a couple of lapwings (small water birds the size of a pigeon) flying towards my home, playing and teasing each other with the did-you-do-it call. Suddenly, Athena descended from the sky, grabbed one of them, and flew away.
White feathers fell from the sky as the victim struggled and surviving mate called out in a heartbreaking voice. My heroine had just separated lovers. Forever.
I knew this is what eagles do, but that couldn’t take away the resentment. I hoped the survivor will get over it soon, since he’s “just a bird”…
In the afternoon, I went to the rooftop for some chore and again heard the same heartbreaking cries, this time filled with anger. I looked up at the sky and saw what I had never thought possible.
A lone lapwing, the pigeon-sized thing that did not stand a chance against an eagle, was attacking Athena, over and over, as if he was avenging his love or, may be, he had a death wish.
Athena did not strike back. She just tried to save itself by hiding in a tree. The lapwing kept up the attacks until he was too tired to fly.
I saw the same thing after four days. Not sure, if he ever let her rest. I didn’t see a lapwing again in the area, so I hope Athena wasn’t too fed up or hungry that day or whenever he last struck.
And here I had thought that birds were devoid of ‘human emotions’; that they were…just ‘birds’.
She was a mermaid,
or perhaps a siren,
for her voice pulled
my heart strings
and her touch
made me sing.
I know not her age,
for I never could
come out of the spell
she’d put on me.
To me she was ageless
and so was our love.
She may have had
many lovers
but I was
her only constant.
She would hold me
against her heart,
and sing
and cry.
For decades,
or centuries perhaps,
I’m hers,
as she’s mine.
Love was when I dragged you
to the college library
to finish your assignments;
when I forced you
to sit with me in the front
rather than with backbenchers
so you would study;
when I forced you
to attend college
on mass-bunk days;
when I gave you
quick lessons before exams
and kept raising the bar
until you could do no more.
What we have
in marriage today
is an echo of that love,
where you take
my place,
and I take yours.
I took the night bus
draped in my wedding sari,
still adorned with the jewels
my parents had scrounged for me
over the years,
breaking their tender hearts
for raising a daughter unworthy.
I sought you
and the answer to
why I wasn’t enough for you.
I hope, they wouldn’t
cremate my body
before I reach you.
Photo by @5tep5 on Unsplash
Every night
I lie on my back
awake
next to where
you’ve been laid,
watching the stars,
waiting
for one to fall.
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Short Stories 