Thought of Death demise and doomLeads our mind into gloomThese words that we fearCan't we make them our dear? What thought agitates,Is not the deathIt's Pain before last breath,Haunts us most.It's fear to go alone,Haunts us most.It's the suffocation,Haunts us most.Death is indeed our dearest friend,Who makes our suffering absolute end.
A quiet summer afternoon
It is a quiet summer afternoon. Mou is reading some old letters. The letters were written in childish handwriting. Many years have gone. These letters are still with her. These letters remind her of a time when India was going through tough situation. Mou was 7 year-old girl that time. She did not really understand severity of the situation. The word death which haunts grown up's mind, can not instill fear in innocent's mind. One of the letters has reminded her about a particular day. It was also a summer afternoon. Everyone was sleeping except Mou and Chocolate. Chocolate was a curious, little puppy. She was always ready to play with Mou. She looked eagerly at Mou and started wagging her tail. Her bright beady eyes always made Mou happy. During lockdown, she could not go out to play with her friends. Her mother did not allow her to play with her smartphone. Rather, she had gifted her comic books, toys and colours. Mou was not bored at all. Sometimes she climbed trees and watched kingfisher preying for fish in the pond. Sometimes, she and Chocolate swam in their pond. She also made a playhouse above a big tree . Her father helped her to make it. Chocolate also joined in their work. When they were making the playhouse , her mother drew a picture of her family. In the evening, Mou filled the image with colours. Then, her father hanged the picture in Mou's room. Thus, Mou's life was going on beautifully. But, she missed her friends. Though she could talk with her friends through video call, but, that was no fun at all. Suddenly, she got an idea. She had a remote control aeroplane. She ran into her room and drew a picture. It was a picture of Runu and Mou sitting on a tree branch. Chocolate looked at the drawing and appreciated in her own way.Runu was her best friend. Her house was seen from Mou's. Then she called Runu and asked her to come to the rooftop. Mou attached the drawing on to her aeroplane and sent it to Runu. Then Runu quickly wrote a letter and attached on to Mou's aeroplane. Thus, they spent the whole evening sending drawings and letters. On the next day, Mou thought why not sending letters to other friends too. But, everyone did not have toy aeroplane. She quickly went to rooftop with Chocolate. Then, she started shouting her every friends' name. One by one her every friend came to the rooftop. Mou suggested them to write letters, attach them with kites and fly the kites. That day, the sky looked wonderful with so many colourful kites and letters. Whenever, a kite fell on the rooftop Chocolate became excited. Then, Mou read the letter and Chocolate wagged her tail as if she wanted to know what was written. Now, Mou is a married woman. These letters always give her childish pleasure. She shows these letters to her kids and tells the story of that time. Mou's old friends are now busy in their lives and they live far away from Mou. Chocolate is also no more. But, all the beautiful days of her childhood still fresh and alive in Mou's memory.
Word Prompt: Write a 3 word short write-up on Guilty
Guilty is guiltless
#hopes #desire #happy
When you see cloud ,expecting rain..that is hopeWhen you see a small bud , wanting it to bloom..that is hopeWhen you see mountains and you desire to climb..that is hopeWhen you see a bird and you want to fly..that is hopeWhen dark shades cover us, still we want light..that is hopeWe are all made with tiny, bright hopes.©pixiepav
A rainy morning
Rain and sun are like hills and sea. Both have their own beauty. Both have their own charm. Oneday I woke up and the sky was dark. Dark is not always sad. Dark clouds are poet's muse or painter's inspiration. Have you enjoyed the sound of rain with some pokoras? Every rain drops look unworldly when they fall on green leaves. Have you noticed how earth smells before rain? Or have you read a story book in dim light during rain? Or have you laughed heartily with your lover in a cozy blanket in a cold rainy day? You know if you have not done this before then atleast try once. Amidst of gloomy cloudy life, this rain brings relief and memories.©pixiepav
Word Prompt: Write a 8 word short tale on Burden
Sometimes past is a burden
This is rather war-drive.The war of memories to stay alive.To keep on storytelling...It seemed they were calling my name -"Come, I will tell you a story. There was a boy..."#wardrobe #wod
Wardrobe? Or a box full of stories?
I have never been methodical in keeping my clothes arranged. Most of them stay everywhere but in the wardrobe. To write something about it, I opened it and few hours passed by through a kaleidoscope of stories. On the top shelf I have kept some important documents, my coin collection and two albums. These albums are dearest to me. They bear a lot of moments of my mother. She is gone. Only her clothes, her photos, a cellular mobile, and a heart full of memories, all I have left. I have kept her things in another almirah. I barely open it. I don't have the courage to go through them. Anyways, the coins I have in my collection, most of them are gifted by my girlfriend. When I pick those coins one by one they starts telling stories and also remind me how I got them. Then in the next shelf, there is a box full of handkerchiefs. All given by my girlfriend. She hates needle-work. But for me she has sewed my initials on them. They are so dear to me that I haven't dared to use them, though she urges me. To me those are prized gifts. Then there are some new clothes, which I hardly have worn. There's a sweater and a woolen mat. Both are unfinished. Just like the story of me and Ma. I forced myself to look through other things. In the second lower shelf I found my school dress. How many memories! The stain from some lab-test, the art work of my friends who found shirts more appealing canvas. All still there. Next I found my first awesome jeans. It was Levi's. It doesn't fit anymore. Someday I will throw it away but not now. I remember how I used to wore it in college. It was perfect. Then I became imperfect. I shut the wardrobe. This is rather war-drive. The war of memories to stay alive. To keep on storytelling. It seemed they were calling my name. "Come, I will tell you a story. There was a boy..."©the_half_monk
#folklore #fairytaleThe BoatTell me a tale,Of a boat without a sail.Will it find its home?After a venture, the futile roam!Or destiny plans more?Will it not find its long desired shore?
Tell me a tale,Of a boat without a sail.Will it find its home?After a venture, the futile roam!Or destiny plans more?Will it not find its long desired shore?©the_half_monk