Our first date.
After years of waiting,
my love’s finally coming to me.
I’ve lit his path with candles.
Jack o’ Lantern welcomes him.
Deer skull incense guides
to the place where all departed meet;
where I’ve been awaiting him
since the day he came to be.
I was in a shock, I think.
Holding the phone to my ear
With one hand,
I ironed the same dress
For an hour,
Until I saw the holes
Burnt through the fabric,
Much like my heart.
No, I don’t love you anymore.
I had that sorted out long back.
Until Now.
I sat down
On the pile of ironed clothes
And stayed there for another hour
Still clutching the phone
Close to my heart.
Waiting for something… someone…
No, I don’t love you anymore.
I had that sorted out long back.
Until Now.
Someone called, not sure who,
Confirming what I already knew.
“Of course, I am fine.
I got over him.”
I called my new love
To share what I felt.
“Of course, I’m fine.
I got over him.”
Of course, I don’t love you anymore.
I had that sorted out long back.
Until Now.
Not sure if I ate that night,
Not sure how I got to bed.
Not sure if I cried.
But I remember
Turning over my wet pillow
In the middle of the night,
The day you died.
-Dedicated to the one ‘I didn’t love anymore’ until the day he died
I ventured in the ruins alone,
Held captive by the magic of
The eerie calm.
Up the stairs
In a trance,
Invisible rope
Tugging me along.
Dawn I saw through
The broken wall,
And stairs that lead to
The Haven beyond.
Wrapped up by the
Peace that comes from
Returning home.
“It’s alright, dear! The pain would end soon.” Hamish consoled Heera.
Heera was too ill to work… ever. People had suggested Hamish to sell him to a butcher and get some money to buy another Ox. But Hamish loved him as a brother. They had been together for nearly eleven years, transporting goods on their ox-drawn cart for a living.
Once Heera died, Hamish would have no one to pull his cart but he would think about that later. Right now, holding Heera’s head in his lap, he prayed for his pain to end. Only when Heera’s eyes went glassy, did Hamish allow his tears to fall.
-Dedicated to all who have loved and lost
The loneliness had become too much. Every one told him that he should move to a new city and start over again. He could, then, meet new people, and may be, even find love again…
He looked at his children: five and eight. Would they mind moving? Of course, they would! Their lives were here with their grandparents, their school and friends. He couldn’t uproot them at a whim!
He couldn’t hurt them, so he let the memories hurt him.
Vultures gathered in the sky waiting for the feast to begin; the Elephant lay on the ground waiting for the inevitable.
She watched in horror as her 80-years-old husband exchanged vows with a 40+ woman.
Tears flowed down her face. She knew he would not wait for long but, at least, he could have let her grave dry.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 