Gliding above the clouds
In your arms,
I saw the break of dawn.
The pink and red
Guilding the horizon.
A herd of deer
In the forest below
Fled As we
Swooped low.
You held me close,
Your arms around
Our baby bump,
As one we touched
The ground.
I open my sleepy eyes
And find you gone,
Again,
My face wet with tears…
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.
With a rock on my heart, I see you
Place the luggage out of your door,
Thoughtfully, coz I can’t carry it alone.
I wish you had let it stay inside
And given me a reason to
See you one more time.
But you put it out and
Closed that door
Forever.
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.
Before I met you, I wondered why I existed
As life dragged along slowly.
After I found you, I wondered if it was worth
The pain you caused each day.
Once I walked out of your door
I truly found a purpose: My ‘Self’.
The rising Sun in the horizon made me ache.
It was such a beautiful day with no one to share.
I wondered if I would have noticed the colours
Had you never happened.
You brought beauty to my life and also the pain.
There was a time when I would walk the road
Holding your hand in mine without a care in the world;
Laughing over nothing at all, looking at the shops
But thinking of only your hand in mine;
Believing that you belonged to me completely.
Giving you over to another willingly
Had hurt deeply, but I did it anyway;
Believing that a part of you still belonged to me;
Until you belonged to him completely;
Leaving my hand, my heart, my life behind.
Short Stories 