Short Story Archive for Short Story:

Channeling

image

Channelling ?

I wanted to pin down what happened to me yesterday before age related “fog” attacked in lost moments.

I wake up early and as is my wont, had my usual dose of soul soothing beamed chants along with steaming cup of ginger tea.

Father’s day is still three weeks away on June 21st
But today is Ganesh’s “real” birthday. Planning to have a nice quiet dinner somewhere of his choosing and hoping Chitra can join us.

Now on to yesterday, with above at back of head along with work related “to do list” as am traveling again and wanted to have all in place before I left, to avoid any emergency or such like.

That is when I heard this incessant buzz in my head !

It was quite weird to say the least. Yes I do look a lot like my dear departed elder sis and dad but it was her voice coming through clear and sharp.

She had me ‘deliver a message” which I did with alacrity and the enormous heaviness lifted away quickly.

I am pretty sure I am not nuts. Simply felt strange for a bit. It rather weirded me out.
~

The walls of our childhood home are rather sharp and clear in mind’s eye today.

I see those smudgy pencilled lines marking our heights. Dad was quite vigilant about our growth-
both physically and mentally as he engaged in daily bouts of mental math
and then those wondrous enunciations
of choice words from the Oxford dictionary that was his bible.

guess loved ones never leave –

They simply grow wings and come visit in times of need, joys and grief or

when they have a burning desire to convey messages.

Am glad this got written as it was in a way an out of body experience even
though less unsettling than those previous times at holy river Ganges’ shores in Haridwar and Rishikesh, India

Image is from google

Hope – 55 word Micro

Collecting money from turning in recyclables, she bought lottery tickets.  Prayers
had been futile.    Determinedly, she scratched.  One ticket was a perfect match.
She’d won million jackpot.  Falling on her knees she thanked the Madonna.

A gentle voice replied, “Child I did hear you and once you did your part, I did mine.  Bless you”.

**

They’d written him off.  Relegated to nondescript office, he felt like a used newspaper.
After years of loyalty, he’d become redundant.  It was time to collect his debt.
Biting the bullet, he made the call.  Next day he was reinstated with alacrity amidst
great fanfare of backslaps and sheepish apologies.   “Given word” bore much clout.

**

“Ella, you cannot win.” screamed Bella.  Pretty and spoiled she’d become a bully.  Plain Ella had a fine mind.  Being younger, she’d let Bella win.  Their socialite parents favored Bella over Ella except granny.  Hoping to win parent’s love and attention she decided to outshine Bella by fully applying herself.  Next day, she stood first.

**

Theft – 55 word Micro

image is from Google

Theft
She was emailing.  Her getup screamed “nerd”.   At next stop, she rose to allow co-passenger to disembark.  Suddenly a garishly tattooed arm grabbed her IPad and hopped off the bus.
“I must lodge a complaint to police now” she cried to the driver, stepping off.

Mission accomplished, smartly dressed she flew out for next assignment.

 

 

55 Micro – story adaptation

He: “I love you dearly”. She: “Prove it”

Overcome by passion he nodded and left.

Blind rush led to his fall

“Are you hurt son?” cried the bleeding fallen heart.

He shook his head. Miraculously his besotted mind cleared.

Guilt ridden and heartbroken he realized the supreme difference

Between the two loves and wept bitterly.

*****adaptation source: (wiki)

FIRST IRANIAN MASTER OF COLLOQUIAL POETRY

Prince Iraj Mirza (1874–1926) (titled Jal?l-ol-Mam?lek), son of prince Gholam Hossein Mirza, was a famous Iranian poet. He was a modern poet and his works are associated with the criticism of traditions

Iraj Mirza Jalaalol-Mamalek, mostly known as Iraj, who was the first Iranian master of colloquial poetry.

Among many poems that Iraj composed, his well-known poems include Satan (in Persian: Ebleess),

In Satan, Iraj explains how a wife maliciously complains about her mother-in-law, and encourages her husband to kill his own mother and bring the heart for her. The young man, ignores the respect due to his mother, pushes her to the ground, cuts her chest and takes her heart out. As he walks toward the door, all of the sudden, he falls and injures himself. He then clearly hears his mother’s heart cry out: “Oh! My son’s hand got cut. Oh! My son’s foot was hurt!” In this poem Iraj plainly presents the evidence of an Unconditional Love.

** image is from internet only -disclaimer

GYM – Three 55 Word Micro

*Image from wiki

GYM
I

His relentless feet pounded the treadmill punishingly. Readings on monitors flashed bells and whistles.  He sweated profusely.  Then, he slumped over and his life oozed out.
The policy confirmed her worst fears.  His love and latest medical report must’ve driven him to extreme measures to extricate them from debt and her blood turned frigid.

II

The gym director referred Peter as coach for elimination round in gymnastics.
Kelly looked forward to a good workout arriving early.  Peter was reading a book inside.

Involuntarily his eyes rose and he saw her.  Time stood still.
Their past life flashed by as they skated together in the Olympics’ arena.
She had come home.

III

The plying hands on her painful joints were soothing and she fell asleep.
Her belongings hung behind the massage table.  She was oblivious.

The lines were long.  Finally, heart pounding, the desperate mother
purchased lifesaving drugs and left the pharmacy hurriedly.
Shaking hands put back the credit card in the designer handbag on the wall.

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