For too long,
been trying to fit in
social norms,
shine through
a galaxy of stars,
looking like them
a part of the crowd,
never standing out,
even after a lifetime
wasted…
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
Entranced
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…
The People in Zoo (Collated)
I had earlier written this series. Lately, I realised that I could do a better job at it. I have rewritten the stories and collated them since I felt that they make more sense this way. Let me know what you all think.
The Tiger
“Of course, it is better than the circus I was at earlier. The minions feed me well and scrub me often too. My 100×100 feet home comes fitted with grass to lay on and trees to scratch my back. But I miss the drinking straight from the stream, the rush of excitement I used to feel on running after my prey, and most of all, running around the forest with mom.
Don’t know when I will see them again.”
_________________________________________
The Flamingo
“That cramped cage and now this!
Do they really think I’m better off in this aviary I have to share with these minions? How I hate the Gobble-Gobble and the Cackle-Cackle—the constant cacophony of the mindless birds who have never seen the world!
I can see the sky from here. The way the Sun and clouds call to me and the wind lifts me up only to crash me in the damned fence—never before had I thought that hell was real.”
_________________________________________
The Lion
The Lion growled at the flash of the camera.
“How I hate them when they pry in like that. Is there no privacy here? What’s the point of giving me a mate when I can’t even nuzzle her without hearing a camera click somewhere?
Well, if I can’t be alone with her, why even bother? Let them think I’m not interested.”
_________________________________________
The Stag
“I see her sad eyes filled with longing across the wired high fence. I feel the same longing deep within; a loneliness I never thought could exist. A bondage that I never realized cuts through me in every waking moment and dreams too.
Of course, I have a herd. They have given me five mates.
But in this moment, I feel I never had a choice.”
_________________________________________
The Alligator
“Where have all the eggs gone again? I had buried them in the sand under the tree. Did the birds find them again? But I never saw them descend…
I’ve scoured every inch of land within the enclosure. Did someone steal them and took them away?
But no one came…Well, except the cleaner…But he wouldn’t do that to me, would he? He must know how much my babies mean to me.
Maybe they hatched when I was eating and are hiding in the water already. But where are the shells then?”
_________________________________________
The Hippopotamus
“They have sent me a new ‘wife’! Do they really think she can distract me?
They took away my real wife four months back when she was several months along. I let them because the guy who treated my leg was with them too. Ever since then, I’ve waited for her to return with the baby. But now I hear her and the baby in a distance from another enclosure. I called her and she called me right back.
I tried to break the walls to reach her, but they were too strong.
Now, they have sent me a new ‘wife’! As if I care! Damn these walls!”
Beautiful
What do you think of the woman in this picture?
I see a woman who doesn’t care what you think anyway–someone like me.
Beautiful, isn’t she?
Free photo by Unsplash
Fasting: A Fish-eye Perspective
Disclaimer: As a converted Muslim, my experiences with Islam are rather new. My newly found love, faith and peace of heart, I cherish. Still, my perspective is a bit out of place, like a shellfish in the trees.
Ramadan is the month of praying and fasting for Muslims. We observe fasts for a lunar month where we abstain from food and water starting an hour before sunrise till after sunset (12-17 hours). It is meant to help us connect with the Almighty, and also, to heal our body from the damage done by the daily assault of cooked food.
Ideally: After a day of fasting:
- When I’d break my fast with dates and 2 glasses of water, it’d cleanse my system and heal it.
- After I had offered prayers, I’d eat very light food, and my body would concentrate its efforts at healing me, rather than digesting fried chicken.
- Healing would continue all night, so that by the end of the month, the vehicle of my soul is a newly-polished limousine rather than the cluttered, rusty truck I had made it through the year.
Reality: After a day of fasting:
- When I break my fast with processed dates and lemon sherbet, both of which contain refined sugar (that in turn contains fluoride), my system absorbs the chemicals at lightening speed. My rusty old truck is now purring with excitement.
- Then I eat fruit salad, that also contains refined sugar, refined sea-salt (sodium), and fruits (grown using chemicals to ripen them overnight to cover the demand during Ramadan). The rust now turns a darker shade of red.
- Then I continue eating fried potatoes and onion pakodas, fried chickpea… Combined with digestive sauce containing refined sea-salt, the food spikes the purring of my (heart) engine to a racing-car level.
- I have to pray, so I try to stop, but hey, who will eat the lamb chops?
- And wasting biryani is a sacrilege I shall never be blamed of…and the vehicle of my soul, already cluttered, has no space for my soul to sit in.
- I’m thirsty after the day-long fast but I can’t make the space for two glasses of water. So, I settle for a cup of brown tea with refined sugar and a spot of milk–acidic but heavenly.
- Now, my engine has collapsed. Acceleration of any kind leaves me dizzy. Like a zombie, the vehicle of my soul drags along during the prayers, whirring complains of how the ‘lack of food’ has left me weak at knees.
- By the end of the month, I am a bigger, rustier truck with a failing engine and full to brim with the clutter I have collected during the food orgy I lovingly call ‘fasting’. My soul opens the door to fit itself in, and hangs in there with the help of more medicines than usual, throwing up every now and then because of the stuffiness, and reminds itself to go slow next year.
If only, I’d remember.
The Date: Wider Angle
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.
The Gingerbread House
The little girl looked at the gingerbread house on the display through the glass walls with eyes brimming with longing. This year, she had neither a house nor bread.
Photo by Dilyara Garifullina on Unsplash
Pretty Woman
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
Old Phone
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.
My Neighbours: The Avenger
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’.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 