Year: 2016

Posted in Epics, Poetry

Park bench sayings

Posted on by Jane
Prologue
An evil eye spots them
It sees them canoodling
 Its eyes bleed the colour of blood
And its face catches that of fungi.

 Chapter 1
Back in the days,
When love wasn’t synonymous
With the act of treachery
Two lovebirds came and perched on my lap.

 One was the girl next door
The other a charming lad
She would hesitate while lifting her lashes
While he couldn’t resist peeking from beneath.

 With a little mischiefs here and there
They quarrelled for the space
That belonged right under the tree shade
Or the one far from the water spout.

 Chapter 2
His excuse was to collect her tidbits
Hers was to take a stroll
Soon, they became frequent visitors
And I a constant medium for the same.

 Out of all my guests
They happened to be my dearest
As I got to witness and devour
The purest emotion of all.

In order to serve them
With the best of my potential
I would fan myself diligently
When the rain showed no mercy on me.

Chapter 3
Once she was sobbing
Draining all of her energy
Just then he came along
And entwined his breaths with hers.

On the contrary,
She poked his wounds,
Even when they’d turned into scabs
For the scars still remained.

It was never to trigger him
Or fiddle with his emotions
But it was to make him feel;
Make him feel how it is to feel.

Chapter 4 – Plot twist
Everything was going smoothly
And a lover’s tiff was usual
Until a garden wall full of creepers
Popped right out of the blue.

It was a third party
That couldn’t stand them as one
So it ignited a fire around the two
And pretended to be the extinguisher!

The plan worked accordingly
To what the extra human had in mind
And despite my sincere plea
They sought the path of destruction.

Chapter 5
Everything had changed
As their egos turned into a new sense organ
Thus, they could no longer see the tolerance
Between the butterflies and the bees.

 Now when her tears were evident
He looked past it, and when he did showcase
A decent amount of concern
It came out a bit ruthlessly.

Whereas for me it was like losing a leg
And being in a perpetual state of disequilibrium
Where winters occurred 365 days a year
And the fate of a rusted swing.

Epilogue
They lived happily never after.

 Alternate Ending
They returned one fine evening
To collect what they had misplaced,
In the first place-
Their unsaid oaths of love.

The End

~Poem 19

Sincerely, a park bench
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: We heart it)
Posted in Short Stories, Stories

Jane and Alaska

Posted on by Jane
Jane was busy doing a blog tour to find some inspiration from a fellow blogger. She had done such tours before, but always failed in finding a blog that was similar to her niche- a creative blog. And when she would succeed in doing so, the blog author would be on a hiatus or would’ve shifted from the blogosphere.
However, that day turned out to be her lucky day! She stumbled upon something really unique- an igloo on a beach! Her blog’s lucidity and breathtaking photographs got Jane hooked to it.
Jane instantly felt connected to its author and decided to initiate a chat with its owner; a trendy eskimo named Alaska.
Now any visitor of such a beautiful site would’ve found the owner easy to talk to and fairly approachable and Jane also concluded the same. After a few months of discovering that same blog, Jane attempted to strike a conversation with Alaska on of her blog posts.
Alaska seemed natural, but somewhere Jane felt that that she wasn’t that interested in speaking to her. Or maybe her trait of not being able to make friends came in the way of an almost blossoming friendship. Jane didn’t give up though. She still continued being her genuine self and made efforts to come in her notice.
Alaska would text her once in awhile and then disappear into her shell. She would say she’s busy, but deep down Jane felt that maybe she wasn’t worthy enough to be a friend to Alaska.
This exchange of messages went on for about ten months, and on one particular day their talks didn’t seem to end. It went on and on, and much to Jane’s surprise, Alaska gave her email address, so they could contact more frequently and conveniently. At that moment, Jane felt delighted that someone had put enough faith in her to give away such details.
Alaska was young and full of life, and some of her positivity rubbed off on her. It made Jane realise that someone younger could definitely be wiser, and provide one with a valuable lesson of life.
Their path of friendship sought quite a few phases like keeping in touch, building trust and eventually confiding in each other. They came across nearly every possible topic to discuss on, and even now they don’t run out of any!
With just a matter of time and a sincere struggle to create a bond, Jane had finally located her Alaska.

 

Happy birthday, Ragini!
 

Posted in Epics, Poetry

Classic Novel

Posted on by Jane

They do not know, what it is
To be inked down by heaven
In typewriter font,
Be romanticised alongside
Novels, logs and even more novels,
In a ridiculously fragile binding,
That has been marred by an iron grill
Tainted with tea stains
And yellowed by an overdose of spring.
Our words may be missing,
Our insides may be stuck,
Our edges may be cut
But,
We never miscommunicate
We overcome all hindrances
We don’t let a page number define our togetherness.
They call our papery pages
Grey, gray, and boring
When they are just a wilted rose
That travels through each chapter
Without grasping anything,
Or,
When they are just a postage stamp
That guarantees to send our message across
Without knowing its contents.
Darling, they’ll probably never figure out
That we are a classic novel
Being published as we go on.

~Poem 18

Posted in Short Stories, Stories

Retold for Waliyha (Part 3)

Posted on by Jane
“I…I…ran away. I am lost, betrayed,” she said peeping over the lady’s shoulder, “and hungry.” Waliyha fumbled as she started her explanation, but then blurted the rest out in a rush. After a few minutes, she realised that she had given away her dignity along with her story. The woman in front of her, in spite of being old and poor now had the power to label her.
However, when the lady grabbed her into a hug, every nerve of her brain remained perplexed. She took Waliyha inside and treated her as if she was her own child. She served her with whatever she had and made sure that she drank the whole glass of water.
Being from a small household, the lady had to seek permission from her man to let Waliyha stay in their house for some time. The man didn’t show any trace of objection, but when Waliyha stated that her parents had strong connections, the couple got a little worried, for the whole matter would definitely involve the police. And at the back of her mind, even Waliyha knew that her plan would have backfired and the police would be on the lookout for her.
Waliyha felt guilty seeing them tensed, and out of that guilt constructed another lie. She gave them a false address, and without questioning her much, they dropped her off there, not knowing that Waliyha was leading herself up the garden path!
Waliyha looked on, as the couple proceeded towards their home, and as soon as they were out of sight, she took an about turn, and made herself get lost in the town. She walked in circles, trying to find herself in all that chaos. Just then, a taxi driver pulled in front of her, assuming that she needed a ride. At first, she thought of asking him to drop her at the sea, but then she changed her mind by reviving some hope. By now the bunch of cash had turned into a few noisy coins. So, she asked him the directions to the nearest PCO.
He didn’t pick up.
‘Well that was obvious,’ She tried to reason with herself.
As she continued to walk, she felt someone follow her. She felt it was just her imagination, but when she felt a tap on her shoulder she began weeping, as a result of her reflexes going all haywire. She turned around and saw that it was a boy, but it wasn’t him.
“You’ve run away from home, right?” He asked exactly what was obvious to him.
“What’s it to you? Mind your own business!” Waliyha rebuked at him.
He didn’t take her bitter words too seriously, and said, “I have some work for you.”
Waliyha looked up with a spark in her eye, but swiftly looked down, realising his intentions.
She ran from that spot, and found herself in front of a school. She begged the guard to let her in.
He noted that she was about to pass out, and then agreed to keep her in. He took her to the servant’s quarter, gave her a glass of water and an apple that he had bought for himself, and told her that the principal would come and talk to her in a few minutes.
Later, a lady entered that room, leaving Waliyha surprised. It was her aunt, and only her aunt who had come to pick her up. She presumed that her parents had disowned her.
Waliyha and her aunt both cried a puddle of tears as they gazed at each other.
Her aunt accompanied her till her doorway, and then let her face the consequences by herself. Waliyha stared at her parent’s feet, while walking in with baby steps. But her dad ran towards her and held her in his arms, without speaking a word. Her mother also burst out in tears, with a billion emotions filling her heart.
They didn’t question her, but the police had to do their duty. They began their interrogation, but Waliyha didn’t have the heart to get the boy in trouble, even after knowing that she had been blamed for the whole matter. What bothered her was his motives. She just wanted an answer as to why he did what he did. But she couldn’t, as now her phone was being tracked every moment.
Today, all her parents want from her is that she should be able to stand on her feet, with her head held high.
A random stranger’s door had opened for her, the door she had locked, still welcomed her with open arms, and moreover, she had unlocked the door of her parent’s hearts.

THE END
*This was based on a true story. Names and other information were altered for privacy reasons.

Now an open book
(Picture credits: Unknown; found on We heart it)
Posted in Short Stories, Stories

Retold for Waliyha (Part 2)

Posted on by Jane
The note

Waliyha waited, waited and simply waited. She was certain that he would come to receive her. But, what toggled with her mind was the fact that her mother would panic on not finding her and would subsequently begin searching for her.
Her brain was quick to come up with a plan to stop that from happening. She fished out a pen from her bag while clutching onto her mobile with her free hand and then shoved her bag behind the bushes, taking care to make it as undetectable as possible. Then, she sprinted through several dark alleys that happened to be a shortcut to her home. Her mother was still oblivious of her whereabouts, as the lights were still off. The only thing that surprised her was her Dad’s car parked in the driveway. Maybe he had arrived just to go back to another foreign trip. She swiftly bolted the door, and then looked around for a scrap of paper. Once she found a doable piece, she scribbled down a message that read out her not wanting to be found or contacted.
She took a long sigh, tossed the note through the window of the dining area and made a beeline for the park. She kept a slow pace while going back, as her mind was at ease. In fact she was so relaxed that when she reached, her upper lashes fell gently over lower ones, lulling her to sleep. Her body was exhausted from all the inner commotion, but felt light like a feather. Soon enough, Waliyha was in a dream world, full of flowers, meadows and hearts.
Meanwhile, Waliyha’s mother got a typical womanly intuition that something was wrong. She got off her bed, and proceeded to check on her daughter for a change.
Little did she know that this move of hers would have a negative outcome. Waliyha’s absence shattered her completely. Her heart sunk, and so did the lower part of her body. She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to control a vomit of tears. Panicking wasn’t the solution, and it took Waliyha’s mother quite a few minutes to realise that. She alerted Waliyha’s father about the same. Contrary to her reaction, Waliyha’s father chose to maintain his calm. He thought she would have been at a friend’s place. But then his eyes caught the crumpled up note left by Waliyha. He tried his best to keep his calm even at this point and look for solutions. However, when they headed to do the needful, they realised that they had been locked in.
It was five in the morning, when Waliyha’s parents had received some help. At the same time, the morning rays stroke Waliyha’s cheeks and she woke up only to find no sign of the boy. She checked her phone again and again, even though it wasn’t on silent mode. Her battery was dying and so were her hopes for a happier and better future. But she still continued to dial his number, while walking towards nowhere. She had no idea where she was going. Her legs were shaking, but she still stuck to the path of being lost, till a bus had come to her rescue. She requested the driver to drop her at a chapel, where she could stay safely. The driver agreed very kindly, and drove her down in a matter of few minutes. Several people ogled at her as she entered the home of God.
Now that Waliyha’s parents were free, they began searching for her in nearby places, but failed miserably. They then decided to report this matter in the police station. They tried to trace her sim, and instantly got suspicious of the number that was dialled repeatedly. The police officials called him up and interrogated him about the matter. But, he denied even knowing her! And when they threatened him further, he finally revealed everything, except for the truth. His version of the story turned Waliyha into the culprit.
The assigned policemen had managed to find a social media profile of Waliyha, and before they could gain access to her account, the boy crept into it and deleted every possible evidence.
Just as Waliyha had made peace with her safe zone, the caretakers of the chapel asked her to leave as they had to clean the place. Waliyha moved at once, thinking that if she didn’t they would inform the police. Her eyes were shielded with tears, as she walked towards a playground that was being used by a bunch of carefree children. Returning home wasn’t an option for her, as she felt that her parents would never forgive her, and staying outside meant a struggle for survival.
She perched on the stairway and noticed an old lady cleaning her front yard. Waliyha held her stomach, wishing that her hunger and thirst would miraculously disappear. She walked up to the lady and asked her for a glass of water. The lady stared at Waliyha and then her suitcase alternatively with a look of scepticism.
“Who are you? And what are you doing here?!” She questioned Waliyha sternly. Waliyha was tensed. For a moment she forgot who she was and what was going on with her. The woman preserved her firm look while a thousand and one thoughts crossed Waliyha’s mind.
She gulped down the little saliva that circulated around her mouth, and finally uttered, “I…”


Somewhere, but nowhere
(Picture credits: Eleanor Hardwick; found on Google)
Posted in Short Stories, Stories

Retold for Waliyha (Part 1)

Posted on by Jane
We all have secrets; some we bury, some we burn, some we confide and some just linger on until we find an antidote for the venom it spreads. And so was the case with Waliyha. She was a regular girl, like you and me. But fate couldn’t disagree more.
Waliyha belonged to a well-off family, and with that being said, time was a major factor in her life. Well, her time waited unlike that of her kin. Her mother would go to work and her dad focused on his trips abroad, while she would stay at a daycare centre. She didn’t realise that she was “promptly dumped” till her friends pointed it out.
“Hey, Waliyha! How come your parents never pay a visit?”
“Don’t they love you?”
“Are they really your family?”
These questions would haunt her even in broad daylight. However, this series of having to bear such uncomfortable questions came to a halt once she found her love. Yes, of course, there was a catch. It wasn’t the love she was craving for, but it indeed succeeded as an alternative.
It was a charming boy she had stumbled upon while roaming about the mall with her friends. And it was he who had made the first move. They exchanged numbers in no time and soon drove along the lane of a relationship.
Even though Waliyha had turned eighteen, she had been pulled into the hits and trials of life again. The lad was a radio jockey and a newscaster. And in spite of belonging to an upper-class family, Waliyha still had to live up to his fancies. He wanted money, and Waliyha took it as his need. Nobody knew for what. She didn’t bother to question him either. She simply opened her mother’s safe, grabbed her jewellery and sold it off, to meet his supposed needs.
Her friends would suggest her to pamper him with gifts and treats, and she readily borrowed the idea.
That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more entertainment in his life. He began asking for inappropriate pictures of her, to which she gave in.
And when it came to eloping with him, she didn’t have a second thought about it.
“Would you run away for me?” He asked one night, making sure that he serenaded her while asking.
“Just say it once, and you’ll see.”
Mr Radio Jockey took the hint and replied by saying, “Now. Do it now.”
That’s all it took to convince Waliyha. She packed her belongings in a jiffy and held her cell phone and a bunch of cash in her clammy hands.
It was past midnight when Waliyha was all set to leave. She ran out and headed for the park where they would have their usual meetups.
Her running awoke the spirit of the stray dogs. They chased her down till a few cars diverted their attention.
It had been an hour by this time. All the commotion had drained her completely, so she decided to sit on a bench and wait for her love.
Tring Tring. Tring Tring. Tring Tring.
The phone sang while her heart got drenched with sweat from the inside. There was no answer. And after another try, his phone wasn’t reachable.
She thought of it as a network problem. The naive Waliyha remained heedless of the fact that she was asked to run for him, and not with him.

Finding home
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: Tumblr)
Posted in Prose, Stories

Vegetable

Posted on by Jane
But you didn’t wave like an idiot to the wayfarer on the opposite lane or even the curious and notorious kid in the adjacent vehicle.
Neither did you act a bit paranoid, when you failed to locate your mate as you peeked behind the pole of a moving coach.
You barely look forward to being stuffed by your grandma.
Your fruity chapstick rolls off the table. You pick it up, inhale the scent, apply it, yet you don’t taste it, in spite of the temptation.
The first few pages of your slam book haven’t been filled by you.
Your bucket list doesn’t include an item from the vintage era.
Even the cat wonders why you didn’t challenge it to a stare down.
Random stationery products don’t fascinate you.
A broken crayon that belonged to a brand new set, didn’t leave you disheartened.
What are you, if you couldn’t relate to the above?
And since you seem too busy taking a selfie…
It’s time I classified you as A (as pronounced while reciting the alphabet)-
Vegetable!
You are a vegetable
(Picture credits: Vanessa Mckeown)
Posted in Prose, Stories

A Cancerian Perspective

Posted on by Jane
The following piece is a collaboration with the lovely artist Lara A.
 

Day 1: It’s a Friday night, and the Almighty is in his usual creative mode. After shaping his beard several times, he gets up and with the magical touch of his fingers makes one shiny object in the atmosphere, better known as a star. Not being satisfied with the outcome, he cuts me into smaller fragments and creates four other things just like me, making us five in total.
Then, out of boredom he aligns them in a certain way, but takes care not to make it too oblivious to the human eye. He looks like an orchestra conductor while doing so; so poise and mesmerising.

Day 2: Two astronomers are busy setting up their base under the moonlight. After several adjustments with their telescope, they finally focus on me and my brethren. I glimmer with all my might for them to notice me. They jot down a few things on their notepads, putting their stargazing session to a halt. They name me “Cancer.”

 Day 3: I like my new name. It is pretty catchy, right? Hey! what’s happening? Seems like we are witnessing a space quake. I hug my bottom two corners tightly, to avoid drifting away from my siblings, but…I break off from the sky and land on Earth. Lord promptly replaces me with another five-cornered article. It’s alright. Someone had to complete our lovely cluster!

 Day 4: Amidst my journey to the laps of the human species, I crumple up into tiny particle and land on the beach. And guess what! They have associated me (and my counterparts) to a crab. Is that why I arrived here, of all places?
I stroll on the beach, totally unaware of what’s going on. But soon a human flattens me under his foot. He checks the foot he crushed me with by hopping on the other, and then he flicks me away into the sea, instead of welcoming me as stardust.

Day 5: Turning into a minuscule object did give me some amount of advantage. I had made it to the shore, but I was completely drained. The little body that I had got buried in the sand dunes. My soul was free of that ridiculously small body. In spite of being free, I still needed a host.

 Day 6: I wandered here, there and everywhere. Not being able to find one gave me an idea. I dived into a soft drink in hope of acquiring a suitable body. I sipped on some of the liquid and helped me grow a bit. And soon enough I turn into a microbe. However, I still wanted some more space and that led to me creeping into another bottle of liquid, which was to be consumed by a human.

 Day 7: The human drinks it. He makes his tongue travel along the outline of his lips, relishing the substance. His body now demands more of it, and me as well. Entering his body gave me a bit of relief.

 Day 8: My desires have increased now. So, I multiply myself with the help of the buffet I get every day! This is definitely paradise. Wait. Human is feeling dizzy. He collapses on the ground. I am sure it had nothing to do with me. All I wanted was a bit more room in his body. He gains his senses back with the help of a doctor. The doctor injects him and gives him some medicines.

Day 9: No! No! It’s not my fault. Please hear me out. I try and reason with the molecules that just entered. They don’t listen and instead corner me.
“You! You are the one one who is destroying this human!” Their words sank in my head brutally and I understood what my selfish act had done. My growing demands had spread to him as well. They tear me apart and burn my pieces. But a bit of me remains unnoticed. And in spite of that round of torture, I still strive to survive.

 Day 10: What he and other humans can’t understand is that I simply can’t resist the urge of existing. I want to leave. I want to run away. I cannot stand myself anymore. I am disgusted with my greed. All I ask from the one above is to take me back to heaven; take me back to being just a sun sign.

Lara made the illustration for this project while I wrote the above piece, in hope of taking Cancer back to where it belongs. Maybe we can make a difference by spreading awareness and not being so careless! You might not be interested in making an effort, which is why we chose a creative method in changing your mind. Hope it works!

Artwork by Lara A.  You can follow her for more sketches
and paintings.