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’.
Free Pictures for Your Site
It has been around eleven months since I started this blog. At 290 posts, it is a little less than a post a day. Most of these posts are accompanied with amazing free pictures from Unsplash.com.
What I never tell is that nearly half the times, the stories are photo-prompt.
A lot of times when I am struggling for an idea, I go and check the website, save some pictures with photographer credits. And let the idea stew…After, say a few seconds or may be a couple of months, I reopen the photo and bingo! I have a new story!
So, I wanted to thank Unsplash for the awe-inspiring and story-inspiring images. I would encourage all of you to use this website to make your site look even more amazing.
- No payment is required.
- Crediting the photographer is not required, but still I’d do that to encourage photographers.
- You can download low resolution pictures from the download option to save site space.
Please note that I get no money from the site to advertise for them. But I can never thank them enough.
The Siren
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.
Will-o’-the-Wisp
I light the lamp
in the deep woods.
Travellers beware
of dreams under
the forest floor.
They come back
to seek revenge
from men
who buried them alive,
like me…
Photo credit: Marko on Unsplash
Echo
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.
Hold Your Horses
‘Hold your horses’ is an old phrase to remind people to be careful with their words or else…
It is far more relevant in today’s world of internet publishing aka blogging.
Ever since I’ve started blogging, I’ve come across a lot of posts. Most of the wonderful stories. But some of them were just stupid concoction of information collected from random sources, thrown together in a mishmash, sprinkled with very strong words bordering on being rude.
One such post that compared Nicola Tesla and Albert Einstein called Einstein an average-minded man who seemingly stole the glory from the genius Nicola. There were no references to theories, no scientific comparisons–just flat disrespect. The writer must have been below 30 years since he seemed to lack the insight into the world in which these scientists operated–a world without internet where scientists work in closed labs and information travelled slowly through either telegrams or scientific journals.
Had Einstein’s existing family found about the post, and had they considered the writer worth it, he would now be facing a suit for libel. A screenshot of the post would serve as evidence.
Yes, unlike your personal diary, group chat or local gossip, your blog is a published piece of information. It can be used as an evidence against you.
Hence, be careful when you name anyone in a derogatory blog, whether Albert Einstein or your ex-husband. Make sure that you have strong evidence. Or you can add a disclaimer that you are a Blogging Jackass.
Else, be ready to pay the price. I promise it wouldn’t be cheap.
About the Author: Shaily Agrawal is an Instructional Designer with double Bachelor’s in Law, and Psychology and Drawing, and Masters in Business.
The Pool
The pool in his estate, built on his brother’s suggestion, was meant to be decorative, until, in a drunken stupor, he tripped over his girlfriend’s long legs.
His brother ran out of the huge house at the hue and cry, and took off his expensive Rolex and Ray-Ban– dallying just long enough to ensure the ‘inevitable’–before jumping in the pool after him.
When the Police arrived, his brother was wiping tears off his girl’s face, while the Rolex and Ray-Ban lay by the poolside winking in the sun.
Image by Unsplash
Short Stories 