Been alone for long,
ever since the storm
blinded me,
and pitched me
against the rocks
too many times to count.
Waves who had
caressed me
left me behind to die
away from the sea.
My home now
a dream to me,
as I lay abandoned
by those who had
once cared
because now
I serve no purpose.
My heart’s cold,
I am now a ghost
they are unable to see.
Photo by Ammpryt ART
An answer to people getting free gifts from Amazon… https://wp.me/p2Dk9J-78l
Author’s note: This story was inspired by a post by Petra Jacobs about the Mysterious Magical Death-Weed Seeds on her site Inkbiotic, and the follow up discussions in her comments section.
The story is now part of a short-story collection available in black-white and coloured prints and as an ebook. I will share the links soon.
Just a curious incident that I wanted to share. On the evening of Bakrid, I found around 20 eagles circling the skies of the nearby area. I thought they probably came because of the smell of blood drained in the river.
Today, four days after the the day of Qurbani, I woke up at dawn (A rare event–last time I saw the sunrise in March 2017. I still have the pictures as a proof.) and saw Athena, the local eagle, sitting on her favourite roof railing. Soon, another eagle came close to her and they began to cuddle. It was cute and I stood there watching them.
That’s when ‘they’ started coming one after the other, looking for prey and the little birds started flying in all directions. At first, I thought they were crows, since I had the sun in my eyes and there were too many of them flying in the same direction much like a murder of crows. But a couple of them flew closeby and I could see they were all eagles, at least 20 of them.
That set me thinking about how human events affect ecosystem. Three days of Qurbani brought 20 eagles to the area, which usually only sees one. We have plenty of prey for them here, but the balance will definitely change. Also, it is the time of year when babies are born. So, is they take residence here, then we will probably see 10-15 more eagles within a few months.
More than 30 eagles is a huge number for any local ecosystem. If they decide to stay, we will soon see very few other birds. I hope, they decide it is too crowded and leave.
Long ago,
I buried love in the snow
that covers my wintery heart.
I’ve held out on the sun.
Who needs warmth anyway?
I’ve banned the shovels,
waited for the snow
to harden and trap it beneath
forever.
The shivers of cold nothingness
rake my heart
every waking moment.
But I am better off without it.
For your love is
flower in the snow.
It fosters longing
and dies in the next storm,
extinguishing all hope, yet again.
In your love, I see
What can never be.
What we can never be…
One of my longer short stories was published on my favourite site for mystery, thrill and crime fiction stories: https://beetleypete.com. Check it out. https://wp.me/p2Dk9J-76G
The long quiet walk through the sea of sand with you by my side…
The sight of warm air blowing through your long eyelashes…
The jingle in each step you take…
The walk to work now makes my heart skip many a beat, as I take each step with you, everyday, forever…
Photo by Fynn schmidt on Unsplash
A lot of our neighbours have been visiting us during lockdown, inspite of Government directives against it. Others we see from afar through our numerous windows.
There is a fairy tree across the road. It is not a secluded tree in the area, like it is in Ireland, since India is a tropical country and trees grow in abundance, but it definitely is a fairy tree. How do I know that?
All the year round, it is brown and barren, but come spring and it grows leaves overnight. The flowers come next, white and fluffy, covering every inch of space until there is no way to peek through. All of a sudden, the entire place smells like fairyland. That’s when the fairies arrive from across the city following the laylines, dressed in all white.
Everyday for a month, at 10.15 AM, nearly a hundred pair of pearly wings begin fluttering around the tiny tree. They gather around the flowery feast halls waiting for the doors of the court of the White Queen to open (for this century is for the White Queen to rule until the Red Queen takes over in 2097). At 10:45, they all dissappear inside the fairyland…all except the few stragglers.
After a day-long feasting, late in the night, hidden from prying human eyes, they emerge from the enchanted lands, drunk on the nectar, trying to find the laylines home through their blurry eyesight. Sometimes, they stagger into human dwellings across the road…mine, curious of the tinkling laughter of the tiny Princess that is my daughter.
Recently, one of the fairies who ventured too close was attacked by Hariya, our resident Dragon, and the Princess had to intervene. She shooed the Dragon away, apologising profusely for the misbehaviour of her guard. Cradling the Fairy close until she was fit to fly, she spoke softly to sooth her troubled heart. Once ready to leave, she escorted the Fairy to the open window and gave her blessings for a journey without perils.
We never saw that Fairy at close quarters again, but ever so often, I see a flutter of white wings at my window and I know, the Princess, now, has a new Godmother.
Author’s note: First year in the city, I was surprised when all of a sudden a small dry tree became green, then white with flowers. And the overwhelming numbers of butterflies that tried to cram in it every day from 10.15 till 10.45 AM for a month in spring. I tried filming the daily half-hour fiasco. But my camera lens is not strong enough to capture the tiny neighbours from across the road. So, you will have to take my word for it. :D
Being humans wasn’t working out for us.
One black, other white.
Hence, every night,
Hidden from the spiteful world,
We would sit side-by-side,
Fingers entwined,
Watching the stars together,
Waiting for one to fall.
Wishing the universe
Would stop trying
To pull us apart.
Until a star did fall.
Now, forever,
Hidden from the spiteful world,
We sit side-by-side,
Fingers entwined,
Watching the stars together,
One black, other white…
Photo by Lucas Sandor on Unsplash
*Disclaimer: This post is not meant to hurt the feelings of believers of any religion. I am not a historian. I don’t claim to be correct. Let’s agree to disagree.Lately, I came across Trojan Wars–a piece of history of Troy, Sparta and Mycenae during the Mycenaean era (1100-1600 BC) that has inspired a lot of literary pieces of the European continent–the most well-known being the Odyssey and Iliad by Homer, written somewhere between 900-600 BC.I was surprised that the central story draws a lot of parallels with Mahabharata. The time of writing this book is not clear but it pre-date Homer for sure, which makes me wonder if the same event had inspired both the books from across the globe.Here is the central story of Trojan Wars/Mahabharata:A set of Brothers live as exiles hiding from their hostile uncle. They are demi-gods, strong and skilled in the art of war, and looking for a chance to reclaim their kingdom. A king calls in princes and kings for the marriage of his eldest daughter who is a demi-goddess, and the most desirable and haughty woman alive. One of the brothers, Agamemnon/Arjun (don’t they sound the same) wins the hand through show of power (political/archery skill) but his brother gets to marry the princess. (Mahabharat’s Draupadi had to marry all the five brothers. Trojan Wars’ Agamemnon gets the other daughter.) Nobody asks the princess who she wants to marry.The prince gets back his kingdom from uncle with the help of father-in-law and the brothers rule for many years in peace. But another prince abducts/attempts to rape the princess causing uproar from husband and other kings.(In Mahabharata, the said prince is the hostile uncle’s son who exiles the brothers again for 13 years and decline to return the kingdom thereafter.)The brothers fight for the lost honour. A lot of other kingdoms enter the war for their own agendas (hatred/oath). They look like losing until they cheat. An important person from enemy camp becomes a traitor and helps the brother breach the defences (Antenor/ Bheeshma). The war ends with the death of all the people who abducted/dishonoured the princess. The end of the war also marks the end of an era (the Age of heroes/Dwapar Yug).I am not saying that these are the same stories–there are a lot of other events in the stories that make them seem pretty different overall, but the still, as a book lover, the similarities are too striking.There are a lot of deeper parallels including various characters that I’ll discuss next time.Meanwhile, let me know your thoughts through the comments section.
Digital art by Ammpryt ART
Short Stories 