In front of their old rundown family farmhouse
9-year old son (incredulously): This is your ‘heaven’?
Father (in a conspiratorial tone): Did you ever jump over a fence, climb a tree, bathe in the river, play in a cave or own a real tree house?
Son (grinning ear-to-ear): When are we moving in?
Year 2115
A group of visiting monkeys peers inside the match-box sized houses.
Excited, a baby monkey cries out, “Look, Humans! Can I give them peanuts?” But his mother dissents and dishes out the standard ‘You mustn’t feed humans!’ lecture.
As usual, humans, glued to the widescreens (‘Game of Thrones season 104’ this time), stay blissfully unaware.
Past midnight, in a dark alley…
I am being followed. Too scared to look back, I know it in my gut…
I should have waited for the other dancers to wrap up but there were too many creeps in the bar tonight, and I wanted to be out before they finished their drinks. Now, I have to pay.
Suddenly, my stomach feels empty. I am nauseas and cold sweat trickles down my spine.
“Do I run?
Do I turn back and confront?
Do I have my pepper spray?
No!
Isn’t there an all-night medical store round the next corner?”
Hope rises in my heart. May be, just may be…
Suddenly I hear the footsteps quicken behind me and I break into a run.
The old tree sat alone. He offered neither shade nor food anymore. Nobody cared to visit: birds nor squirrels.
When the storm uprooted him and his fruit-bearing progeny, nobody missed him nor mourned his loss.
She was a torn garment, not worth mending.
After her husband crossed, his family cast her away to her old home.
Her parents cast her away to the backyard storeroom.
And now, the river had cast away her empty shell to the shore.
-Hindu widows, traditionally, give up all pleasures in life: good food, good clothes, music and human company. Often, they are dumped in widow homes and take up begging to survive. Not allowed to remarry, a lot of them choose to die instead.
She knew nothing about the man she had just married, as was usual in her community, and her stomach was in knots.
For the last ritual, the Pandit asked the couple to put their hands in the milkpot to find a gold ring. “Whoever finds it first rules forever”, he said smiling.
They both frantically searched for the ring until the groom’s fingers found hers inside the pot. Electric hummed between them and, quietly, he slipped the ring in her hand.
The honey smelled wonderful; may be just a quick lick… I wondered whether I should dive in.
But “Mother”, “Sonny”and “Cuddlycums” were sitting right there at the table. And “Father” had a swatter by his side. It would be tempting fate.
Saddened by the thought, I prayed to the Lord for just a lick. All of a sudden, “Cuddlycums” had a tantrum and threw the honey bowl on the wall on which I was sitting.
Well, what can I say? He listens!
“In that magical moment, he helped me up from the stairs. When looked at me as he cradled me in his arms, I saw emotions in his eyes… Love? I was taken aback!
Sure I was flattered by the attention but I couldn’t see how things would ever work out between the two of us.
For one, he was a hulk and I petite, almost breakable. Moreover, she had taken away my twin. I don’t think a Prince would look good hobbling around in one shoe.”
“My mother’s kiss can cure all pain. I wonder why I don’t ask anymore.”
Mom (to her 12 year old):Â Honey, Why are you up so late? Are you alright?
After 40 years
Daughter: Mom, Why are you up so late? Are you alright?
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 