Spent the night
wrapped in his arms,
his scent enveloping my senses.
believing in true love,
that moulds his soul into my tiny being.
Cocooned, I willed myself immortality.
Come morning,
his arms will leave me
and the sunlight will break the spell.
Dry will I
and leave this world to become a cloud.
But I will rain down upon him,
only to stay the night in his arms again
and again
till eternity…
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.
We were born to different mothers 22 days apart in different cities, so we can’t be twins. M is Snow White, I am Pocahontas–both in looks and in attitude. Still, it feels like we share the same soul…not in a romantic way, but the way twins do–we feel each other’s pain and happiness miles apart.
Twenty years back, I met this pretty girl outside our Bachelor’s Painting class. She was a girly-girl who managed household responsibilities and fed the four dwarfs. I was a tom-boyish adventurer who would rather run around than cook. Roughly, you can call it love at first sight. I say ‘roughly’ because our relationship didn’t have a romantic angle. It is the comradery; friendship that belied all logic; the deep need to stick together without reason; and the empathy that crosses the border of sanity.
I remember instances like the sudden pain in my toe while sleeping and limping to college next day, only to meet her limping outside college having stubbed the same toe at the same moment at her home.
It became a habit. Some days, I would feel a sudden urge to laugh. Then, I’d call her to ask what’s the joke. Or I’d be feeling down over some matter and get a call from her to ask why I was sad.
We liked the same things. Her friends were forced to accept me as an unavoidable menace.
We had both behaved like grown ups during childhood. Together, at 18, we found our childhood. Our opinion was always different. But we agreed to fist fight over it and then laugh it off. No hard feelings ever. Our classmates often asked us if we had come from the same school. Some even suspected us to be sisters.
We fit beautifully together like pieces of jigsaw puzzle. We didn’t know what we were missing until we found each other. Life has pulled us apart for a long time, but every time I feel an emotion that didn’t fit the context, I think of her. Every laughter, every pain, every itch, every mood that isn’t really mine, reminds me of the other part of my soul–the one that will return to me once our bodies are gone.
Heathcliff waits for Katherine. Wuthering Heights gives me hope and solace.
Photo by Briana Tozour on Unsplash
Riding the high sea,
As waves excitedly carried me,
I embarked on adventure of lifetime,
Until I was left behind
Stranded ashore.
I waited long
For the sea to return
But it never quite reached me
Always in the periphery
Just out of reach–
Teasing,
Mocking, daring me
To make the journey alone
Through the sands
Of destiny,
Always watching
Wickedly amused at my predicament
As I pushed on against the
Unyielding sands
A plaything,
an entertainment,
Until I could
push no more…
And died…
Listless,
Ever-suffering,
Suffocated,
Crowded in the vacuum of mind,
Sucked in by the endless thoughts.
Ahh, relentless time!
The story is now part of a short-story collection available in black-white and coloured print and as an ebook. I will share the links soon.
I was early today. My regular haunt, a local cafe’, had provided me with numerous conversations with different women in the past. Nearly each one led to fun-filled first dates and steamy nights. I never asked for a second date–do that and women begin planning the names of the babies.
I found her looking out of the window. A pretty face with a body to match. Her shoulder weren’t pulled back in haughty confidence. Approachable. Easy target. Perfect.
I approached her table and cleared my throat to get her attention but she was lost outside. Something about her ways felt serene–no fidgeting, no leg tapping.
I tapped on the table. That got her attention. But when I asked for permission to sit with her, she just shrugged in the universal sign of ‘suit yourself’ and returned to look out of the window.
To say I was surprised was an understatement. I’m what people call as tall, dark and handsome, so I’m not used to being ignored by women. I sat down and looked out to understand what held her attention–a conversation between a child and a man, probably his father. The child was using signs and the man was having difficulty in understanding.
The way her lips were turned up at the sight, she seemed to find it all amusing–not in the sneering, jeering, judgemental way, but the way you’d witness a bird’s baby learning to fly.
I coughed to get her attention. Nothing.
Trying another tactic, I sent myself a message. My message ringtone is a custom-made guitar tone and always gets women’s attention. Not this time though.
The waiter came with her order and glared at me with a ‘do not mess with her’ look. I was surprised! He had been quite cordial for so many months. Was she his girl?
He placed her order on the table. She looked up and, with a large friendly smile, she thanked him…in signs. He smiled back with a no-problem gesture and left the table, giving me a last glare.
I got up to get my order from the counter, and sat back down on the farthest table, awaiting another prey…
Photo by Ammpryt ART
Watch this beautiful video, and promise you won’t cry.
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.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 