dazzling yellow noon-
to the garden we follow
shadow trails of each other
clutch me in a tight embrace
reminder of all things lost
* A Sedoka for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai Little Ones # 5.
there was a prince-
stoic, powerful and heroic,
he met up with
a gentle princess-
an epitome of beauty and love;
What happened then, mother?
oh! It is predictable dear,
they got married
* For Trifextra; a common bed-time tale in exact 33 words.
Well, I was exposed to books quite late. I enjoyed reading even when I was little but I was too innocent to ask my parents to buy me books. I had only a book or two in my book shelf. Yes, I was quite shy. I am an introvert and have been like that since forever. Therefore, I used to spend time reading short stories from my language textbooks at school. I still recall many of them because I had read them quite a few number of times.
Of course, I can’t recount my favorite authors because I hadn’t any. That time the image I had of an author was obscured by the heavy books of biology, physics and chemistry, my sister used to study. Rather I will discuss the few stories I enjoyed then which were not based on the curriculum.
Panchatantra Tales by Vishnu Sharma were quite an enjoyable read. I had (still have) a kid’s book with certain stories of Panchatantra like that of the crocodile and the monkey and of the greedy milkman, etc. I liked reading them because of the simple language and a moral at the end of every story.
Also, I spent a lot of time reading religious books that belonged to my mother. I liked and still like reading mythological tales. I was always amazed by the prayer of the devotees and the power of the gods and goddesses. It is quite an irony because I am an agnostic and sometimes an atheist.
Furthermore, I used to read every single page of a kid’s magazine that used to come along with the newspaper every Friday.
I know this post is getting really boring for you to read. I will finish by writing that it is never too late to start reading. The books mean a lot to me. I like them. I live in their stories.
I am not reading much right now. But I know I just need to get into the flow of it once again which I would eventually.
“I can’t forget how we grew up together and then got separated. And today, it is a coincidence that we could meet.”
“It is indeed.” He gave her a brilliant smile.
“You still smile the same,” she shyly commented.
“And you are still the same.”
They shared a quick kiss which was delayed for years.
“And you remember when you visited me at 1 in the night and tried to hide inside my baby piano when my parents came up hearing your loud voice?”
“Yes. And I remember why I visited you.”
They held hands, past memories flooding their minds.
* Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.
“I fell down,” she told her grandma.
“But I am alright. Children fall down often, right?”
“Well, that is what people say. But who told you so?”
“Hmm.. Do you know your pa had got almost every joint of his body fractured at one time or another by felling down when he was your age.”
“Really. We had to rush to the doctor every other month; once he got his one breakage fixed, he would get another one.”
“Now let me see if you have hurt yourself in any way.”
“No, I haven’t. It isn’t much, just a little bruise here and there.”
“I will get some antiseptic for you.”
“It will sting?”
“Do you have to apply it?”
“I guess so.”
She pondered for a while, “I am a big girl now. I will deal with it.”
“That is good. Now come here.”
* Written in exact 5 minutes for Five Minute Friday Prompt
The evolution of a being
from the childhood’s reverie
to a grown up’s veracity
from the glimmer of the stars
to the blaze of the sun
from a small injury
to a large gaping wound
from an innocent vision
to a gruesome deed
from the world of truth
to the universe of tall tales
from a fresh water lake
to the ever salty ocean
from the protection of the nest
to the vast lonely sky
from a seed that is sown
to a pest infected plant
from the drop of nectar
to an urn of venom,
the evolution of an infant
to a grown up soul
tarnished by world
shaded by emotions
from the afternoon nap
to the insomniac nights
from the playful toys
to the killer weapons,
there is an evolution
a real evolution
of a spirit as he turns
from a joyful mirth
to an evil sneer in the end.
* Written in response of Theme Thursday Writing Prompt.
A different way of seeing yourself… Seeing yourself in a different light- it would definitely show you the inner-most feelings that you’re trying to hide even from yourself. You may not even identify the person you really are. And that is the path where we all fail in loving ourselves- the true ourselves.
I had heard a long time back,
In the days of childhood,
The story of a swamp deer,
Who adored his lovely antlers,
Sitting atop his head.
This was the personality of his,
He really really adored,
But couldn’t see his flexible legs,
Because they were ugly.
He had a false perception of himself,
Which just covered his beauty,
He could no more see his real power,
The power that his legs beheld.
Once going through the forest by the lake,
Admiring the shadow of his lovely antlers,
The swamp deer heard the loud call,
Of the vicious predator wolves.
The voice came from nearby,
And the deer knew this time is so wry,
He started to run away from the voice,
But till then the wolves had got his trail,
And now were now behind their prey.
The swamp deer started running away,
And soon it seemed he had lost the wolves,
All thanks to his long flexible legs,
That gave him the power of running so well.
The swamp deer took a deep breath of relief,
But still in order to save himself,
Made an incentive to hide in the long bushes.
As he entered the bushes, everything went loose,
For his beautiful antlers got stuck in the bushes.
He tried, struggled to get them free,
But there was nothing he could do.
All his struggles were in vain,
And all of a sudden again came the howl.
It seemed as if the prey has been found again,
The swamp deer tried to get himself free,
He struggled even more and more,
And now even cursed God for his beautiful antlers.
The rest of the story goes like as what you can imagine,
The legs at first saved the swamp deer,
But his beautiful antlers brought him death,
For he could not accept himself fully,
He couldn’t know his real power,
That resided in his legs.
Similar is the case of us all,
We get a perception, we love ourselves,
For the image we have of us in our minds,
But the powerful truth resides in our feelings,
Within us, hence, it is time for us to embrace “us”.