Miss Anira and the Forest
.................She read the title again and sighed, putting the paper and the half-sipped cup of tea away on the mahogany table. ‘How many more years!’ she thought. Even though well rationalised in her mind was the idea that she had half her life left ahead of her, she felt like she had lived it all in futurity, and the days had begun to pass for her too slow. In a crude factual sea of her financial apotheosis, eclectic personal accomplishments, for this forever-curious soul, somehow, there was not much to look forward to, and her anxiety sourced at the helplessness of not being able to explain it....................
.........Sighing and thinking about her birthday party that evening, she walked so dreamily into the three storey home that she was suddenly brewing in bubbles in her bathtub. She didn’t remember the entry through the front door, climbing of the stairs, or rights and lefts leading to the bedroom. The water was the perfect level of warm. Effervescence of natural candles soothed her nostrils. Closing her eyes, unsurprised, she seemed to have fallen asleep, drowning in a sea of thoughts only she could think and not understand. A language she didn’t know but was sure existed. Like a deep sleep into another universe or beyond..........
SOUL PUDDING
“I was sent to heaven
In my day dreams
I plucked a few words
Snatched some love,
And served you at tea
These small worlds
Melting into your eyes
Heart’s a frozen sheen.
Come with me
Let’s voyage together
In cities deep
Says wordsmith from imagined streets of Paris and Fin,
Come with me.”
Laughter echoed while he cried for the first time,
In a lowly shed surmounting delight, a star had arrived.....
Eyes so wide, trying to capture the glimpse of every atom alive,
Waiting to jump, ride, run, and dive!
Destiny imprinted in the palm of his hands and mind, the storm wore a disguise,
In a world so small, dreams that crawl, an eagle had taken flight, a star had arrived....
The Fictional Virus
On the night of 24th March 2020, when eight o’clock was the time, darkening leaves on a tamarind tree rooted at the pavement outside a high-storey residential building were not aware of the revolution they were about to witness. It seemed as if they were still trying to unravel the mystery behind the sudden quiet on the roads and air. Their fluttering indicated an attempt to peep through the windows of all sixty flats in the Block A building of Majestic Apartments to find out, what was going on with the human world? Even in their imaginations, a more peaceful world was not possible. The moonlight too had disappeared that night, probably escaping the responsibility of guiding them to the tumult in the living room of flat number 301.
“On 22nd March, the pledge of Janta Curfew that we took as a nation…” The Prime Minister of Bharat was streaming live on television addressing the nation on the pandemic of Covid19. A deadly virus had spread across all the continents and people had been requested to stay at home to contain the infection, and he had dutifully announced his addressal on the vital aspects relating to the menace that was this disease. He was a beefy man in a cyan coat with squircle-shaped spectacles. He was also old, apparently in the late sixties, evidence of which was the greying hair on this partially bald head...........................
People of Molorok
Had you not suffered, would you write to seek comfort?
Had you not been chained, should you conjure freedom?
Had you not been punished, would you question authority?
Had you not been granted relief, would you insist on being hopeful?
A planet birthed 4.5 billion years ago
Wanting to tell a story, far it grows
Years and years of changes and repairs
Older than age, has no compare
Brilliant stories emerge from it’s deep flair
And so I tell you some, for you to know this world’s despair The planet of Molorok carries people of all glares
Worlds exist in it’s comfy scares
The people are struggling and ask for your care
And so, you must first learn about the worlds of this ugly sphere
If you can help, you should vow to stay in this lair
And read along, we have no time to spare
