The walk to your manager’s cabin alone for the annual performance review…
Photo by Cristian Grecu on Unsplash
My Neighbours: The Scholar
The lockdown has brought an array of unknown neighbours to the fore. This guy is only one who comes without expectations.
This guy is the quietest I have ever seen. I never saw him with another Barbet. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s a bachelor by choice.
The serenity of his ways, the way he tinkers around the wood quietly for hours, the lost-in-thought look, the marks of sleeping with glasses on, and the salt-and-pepper feather on his face are inspiring.
Often, he knocks on my windows, never expecting a reply. He just sits on the tree quietly, looking away beyond the horizon, like a Scholar thinking of ways to improve the world. I can almost hear the cogs of his brain whirring frantically to solve world’s greatest concerns, like global warming and third world war, or may be the best way to lure out wood lice.
Will let you know once he’s ready to talk…
The Avenger: How far would you go for lost love?
A couple of months back, I wrote about one of my Neighbours–the Avenger–a lapwing the size of a pigeon attacking our local queen, Athena the Eagle, for killing his mate. The drama still continues.
The day before yesterday, I woke up at the crack of dawn, at the shrill cries (more like war cries) of a lapwing. Athena was sitting on a roof railing looking for her next prey as she does everyday. This wee birdy was attacking Athena over and over. She had to rush for cover in the nearby trees to save herself. The lapwing continued until it was too tired to fly.
It felt surreal. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have declared it a lie.
Last time I questioned if a bird can hold a grudge. Now I wonder how long? It had been more than a couple of months.
And if this is a different lapwing, whose mate was probably eaten (at least not that day, considering Athena was out for a hunt), is it normal for lapwings to avenge their dead or die trying?
I checked on Google on any information about behaviour of lapwings around their dead mates and enemies. The information was always very impersonal. Their height, weight, mating rituals, but nothing about dying for love.
What about other birds?
I know that Crows mate for life. Do they grieve for their soul mates?
It is said that Rishi Valmiki, the man who wrote Ramayana (one of the most revered epics in India) spoke his first verse when he saw the grief of a swan losing his mate to a poacher–that the cries of pain over the loss, and eventual death of the other swan because of heartbreak, wrung his heart and the verses spill over his lips. So far, I had thought of it as just another myth…but what if…
My Neighbours: The Dragon
This lockdown has acquainted us with a lot of neighbours. Some of them have moved in, against government measures.
One of them is a Dragon with a forked tail and ability to change colours. What’s worse, she moved in with her entire family!
Meet Hariya, our resident dragon. She has a forked tail and ability to change colour from a soft pink to dark patchy commando-style grey in a flash.
Hariya in a soft pinkish grey girly look
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Hariya in her commando assassin dress
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Recently, when I saw several new additions to her family, I asked her to begin paying her share of rent. But then, I saw Hariya in action preying on larger insects (moths, grasshoppers, winged ants) and I realised the potential and made a deal with her.
Once she grows up to her optimal size, (Anybody knows what is optimal size of a dragon?) I can rent her out for hunting expeditions–a new form of danger sports. She can fly ahead as a scout (I hope she grows wings once she reaches her optimal size), catch animals for the people and roast them with the flames (I hope she develops that handy quality once she grows to her optimal size).
I know its a lot to hope for…
But, if done, it will be a hit for those seeking adventure. Imagine the demand! It can provide employment to her entire family, so that they can buy a house and not scrounge around for food…at least not their own food…
Any one game for it?
My daughter got inspired by the idea and built her statue for marketing once she reaches…
Claws: Update
Lately, I wrote about the stringent diet I began last week: Claws.
Just wanted to let you know that I have managed to tame the lions now.
The entire Pride has shrunk to the size of mice thanks to week-long starvation. They still frequently scratch my stomach but I drown them in water and milk and protein shake to tell them who’s the boss.
Though, I still don’t see any weight loss…Fingers crossed!
The Tunnel
Dusk.
Shadows are lengthening every minute and it is time to make a decision.
The entrance of the tunnel is hidden beneath the forest floor, visible only in the front. The darkness inside is complete, as if no light ever penetrates those open gates. Has the other end caved in, shutting off any rays of light? Is there another end at all?
Moss and fern cover each inch of the penetrable surface–the stone walls, the sides of the walkway, the spaces between rocks on the walkway…The air around the place reeks of dead things. The barks of the trees around the place has been stripped with claws–a clear warning for anyone who ventures too close.
But still the walkway holds grass that someone crushed underfoot a few minutes ahead of me. Could it be she? With her group of bird-brain bounty hunters? Could even they be foolish enough to enter this tunnel–a place clearly marked by death? How could they completely ignore the local stories? That this tunnel was the door to afterlife… That no one who entered the place had ever returned to the world of living…
Her favourite shoe marks adorns the wet mud. Why would she risk it all? She has enough inheritance to last her four lifetimes…but then this is what she is and I wouldn’t have her any other way.
The sun is behind the trees now. Either I enter or turn back right away. There is no point waiting outside till the morning, for no one knows what lurks in the tunnel. If facing a deadly foe, I would rather be awake. On my skin, I can feel its cold stare measuring me, giving me goosebumps.
Do I enter after ‘her’?
Can I ever leave her behind?
With answer, I braced myself and stepped inside.
Photo by Anna Gru on Unsplash
Claws
Lions are clawing me inside out!
Okay, I am on a diet–a high protein, low carb, no fat diet–a healthy diet that involves loads of milk, protein shake, fruits and nuts. What it lacks is everything I love–Breads of all kinds, rice, pasta, noodles, patties, pastries, even porridge! Chapattis (Indian bread) with veggies and pulses once a day are its saving grace. You see, I am a foody with a very low hunger threshold. I eat every three hours and I love variety in food. Hence most of my day is spent creating or planning that variety. So, dieting is beyond me.
But my husband could see my love for food was creating tires around my waist, and now these car tires were aspiring to become truck tires soon. Worse part, I was unwell with joint pain and body ache, thanks to the fast reduction and, then, adoption of weight in the past one year, thanks to Hypo-Thyroid and it’s medication’s side-effect. So my husband finally put his foot down.
11th July was the first day of the torture. My diet has been split in 3-hour schedule with smaller portions that provide me with only what I need, which means no fat, low carbs. I could feel lions clawing me inside out–I guess, they had always lived there, eating my food. Now with the famine, they are reminding me of their existence. I was techy, angry and on the verge of crying all day. But nothing would move my stone-hearted husband to give a hungry wife a few morsels of bread (with butter and jam).
Next day, the clawing had mellowed down slightly, at least I wasn’t crying. Or may be, I was too busy with laundry and other household duties to notice them too closely. I survived.
Today has dawned with the old clawing back. While I work on my computer, I can feel the desperation in this clawing. I think they know they are going to die of starvation soon. I hope this entire pride dies soon, for this diet is here to stay for a while.
Please pray for my safe return…
Colin McQueen, earlier you had talked about the hazards of running. I will take that any day as compared to this.
Free photo by Louis Hansel on Unsplash
Woohoooo! 200 followers!
I just found out that I have 200 WP followers and it means the world to me. These people aren’t my family. But they ready stories and liked them enough to give me a second chance! Thank you, All of you, for that!
My stories have a comment section. If you feel that the story could have been better, let me know that. This blog is my Sandbox. I am open to suggestions as I play with words.
Thank you, once again. Here are some sweets for dessert! 🍧🍨🍦🍩🍫🍬🍭🍮
Coloured
Colour me so,
so you wouldn’t judge
the colour of my skin.
Or know that
colours will wash away
on the day you’ll bathe me
and dress me in my best suit
for the world to see
who I am under my skin.
I am You.
Free Photo by ReddAngelo on Unsplash
“State Road,” (Part: I)
Worth a read series. It had me hooked end-to-end.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 