Rapunzel

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,

So that I may climb the golden stair!

My femininity – Rapunzel.

Draupadi

“Govinda, govinda, He alone who knows…the ins and outs of the world, he should come…to rescue the world, to save it, to redeem us all…but what justice there can be, in the absence of cleansing war?”

She tells the story at: Draupadi.

Stop domestic violence. Here.

PS: Pictures in the story were shot by yours truly. All copyrights hold.

Missing baby

It was hard enough to feed one. At least somebody else may be able to provide her baby with things she could not give her. She pulled the warm sweater over the child, and pinned a note to it : “Missing baby.”  She took it to the nearest childcare center and left it at their doorstep.

That night, she sobbed on her pavement, missing baby.

I Spy

I am the polish of mercury,
I am the reflection in your eye.
I am a long sliver of nothingness,
I am the embodiment of darkness.

I am,

am I?

The story is @ I spy

Castles

I had toiled hard all day, building a castle of sand at your feet.

With one knock of your watery hand, you flattened it, and left me floundering in your waters.

Maybe I wanted that to happen.

I am building another castle. Now.

Flash-fiction

Flash-fiction or microfiction or 55 fiction seems to be the latest thing on the block. I should say they are relatively easy to write…I wrote the following five stories on a train.

Reaction

Little Thamarai looked at the plastic bird on display and clapped her hands feebly.

The bird squawked.

She clapped louder.

Louder squawk from bird.

She turned wondrously to her father.

“Appa, imagine how loudly it would squawk when she hears a bomb!”

“Ingu vedigundu kidaiyadu, kannamma*,” said Appa, leading her back to the refugee camp.

________________________________________________________________________

*There are no bombs here, dear

Full circle

He wanted the bright red rattle which the seller was jangling seductively.

His father pulled him away, his fingers pinching his empty pockets.

Years later, a man walked through a crowded train, jangling a bright red rattle seductively, watching other fathers pull their children away.

Childhood had arrived rather late for him.

Distance

As your plane takes off, and you recede from being the all pervasive blinding sun to an invisible speck of a star in the lost blackness of this night that never seems to have an end in sight, I find myself wondering.

About how far away you will be.

And how close.

Krishna

“Krishna! Krishna!”

He called out to her frantically, longing filling his wide blue eyes.

She did not come.

He could not hear her crashing her slender white arms against the walls of her prison, a huge dam.

He still rolls from his depths and crashes against the shore, so that he can be reunited with her.