Tag: Fiction

A poem from my book “STILL LOVED STILL MISSED”

LOVE UNDER THE LAVENDER TREE

Jacaranda-Tree-450w

{Pic: imagine-mexico.com}

“Under the lavender tree we stood,

A wrinkled face you looked, mine.

Your heart got hooked, it seemed;

When were you born?‖ you asked.

 

I, then, took a travel down my

Memory lane; re-lived the day,

When I was the chubby girl, saw you first

Under the same lavender tree.

 

Briskly you walked; rarely you smiled

Even to your few fellow friends.

And, I was invisible to your eyes;

A shadow masked you, I guess.

 

A cheery spring sent me in,

To your eyes (and to your heart?)

Under the same lavender tree

I stood smiling, my mind at cloud nine.

 

…………………………………………………………………

Now, we are worn and torn,

But still, you ask when I was born.

Know and note, my beloved, the day

I saw you, was the day I was born. ”

© Mridula

To read the whole poem and other tiny tales, buy STILL LOVED STILL MISSED from any source below:

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The Fault in our Stars

three line tales, week 155: an old truck in a ghost town
Photo by Ian Parker via Unsplash

As an armed truck driver who rides ugly trucks, those vehicles breaking down occasionally at the loftier altitudes weren’t an unfamiliar experience.

When that happened at night on the cliff tops, Charlie felt solemn.

Staring up at the beautiful Milky Way, he would admire them sometimes and other times curse the fault in his stars for not allowing him to become a poet or even an incredible cook.

_________________

68 words
{Three Line Tales, Week 155}

Precious Possession

Copyright – Adam Ickes

They were our mother’s absolute possessions.

To everyone’s despair, they secured a place in the living room showcase. She was adamant.

pair of soiled, spoiled, blood-stained military boots!

The boots of a soldier who died while serving his motherland.

The boots of a beloved husband who retained nothing as a gift to his wife, other than his blood-stained uniform.

The boots of a father who instilled selflessness among the children while sustaining them struggling far away.

It’s humane to gloss over precious things.

{Written for Friday Fictioneers}

Deepest Yearnings

SPF 10-2-18 Anurag 3Photo Credit: Anurag Bakhshi

“What’s the best thing to long for this vacation?” Litta asked Mona.
“An escape from our orphanage!”

“Yay, I announce you good news. We are going on a trip this vacation!
“Really? Litta, I think you are kidding… Mona was half hopeful and half curious.
“No Mona, I promise!”

 

____________

Contrary to what they believed they were taken to a beautiful green hill-top.The valley was filled with houses. For the kids, everything was new and mesmerizing.

An ocean seemed adjacent to the houses. A vast, blue shining water body!
As they settled down under a huge tree’s shade, the lady manager asked the kids.
“What did you like the most?” 
“Everything!” All of them shouted.
But which you liked the most, this hill or the ocean?” 
Silence prevailed. “Come on! Tell me!”She encouraged.
The answers pierced her heart.

We loved houses the most.
“It will be great to live in such homesWe can run or roam until the sea and return. It will be fun!

 

The deepest yearnings were all the same.

The lady promptly changed the topic to snacks and drink.

{Written for Sunday Photo Fiction}

Shocking Messes

Image result for messy living room

(Photo:cloudcanva.org)

Why would you want to be a counselor?”

Merina always remembers how frustrated her mother was when she revealed her inclination.

“You serious? You have umpteen choices to live in peace. Why you like to go to the people who experience depression…or…Or… Abusive behavior…And make yourself deal with hell almost all days?” Her mother had groaned.

Merina stood up for her choice and she won. Accolades followed. 

very flexible work life, contented family life with her husband and a son. A committed practitioner who organised sessions for her young patients and parents to identify the problems at the first stage. She had her own theories which turned out successful on practice.

One evening she came back to her apartment just to see the jumbled living room. She was a bit shocked but more surprised.

On further search, she found that the burglar was so prudent that he made things appear like a failed theft attempt.

The valuables were ransacked from their exact spots without even a clutter.

All the mess was in the living room from which nothing was missing.

The enquiries followed. 

Merina even thought about offering a session to the burglar. People steal due to behavioral problems, for necessities or addictions.

The officials identified the thief.

To her ultimate shock, it was none other than her own son. 

He had admitted the several other thefts committed, some alone, some with a company. Perks for drugs!
Merina felt like a failure for the first ever time.

{Written for the promptuarium prompt Ransacked}

Monsters at the end of the field

three line tales, week 150: a house peeking through
Photo by Jan Genge via Unsplash

The building at the end of the vast farmland was kept out of sight by the monstrous structures, which terrified me.

The view of enormous field growing healthy maize that produces bumper yield was amazing.

The knowledge that those gigantic things were nothing but silos, which gathered grains, produced silage, and remained as signs of abundance, gave me comfort. 

 

{Written for Three Line Tales, Week 150}