Passages
This post includes writings that are too short to be published as separate blog posts. These were initially posted on Twitter and also include those that were not tweeted there.
Each new passage starts from section breaks.
This page is a living document, and keeps getting updated with more passages.
Note: Posts in the tab "Flash fiction" is for writers only. Commenting is disabled for all posts under this tab.
***
In wane
A call to duty
I'm on my feet
I perform
Look at the clock and wait
I wait
Sun sets
Check the clock again
Time passes
Hours pass
I'm on my feet
I feel dazed
Sick in the stomach
My feet hurt
I wait
Moon half lits
Emotions surface
Emotion in three syllables
3 moods
3D
Mute. Angry. Laugh.
I wait
Emotions intermingle
When he finally shows up, I speculate my move
I am confused
I decide to confront
Speech carries the three moods in a single tone, one breath, one voice
I laugh - at that moment I forget the pain
And move on
I hit the bed
My feet throb
I look at it
The pain talks to me
"You don't matter" I say
I let it go
And fall asleep in the middle of the night
In wane
A new day
Duty calls
I embrace it.
____________
Flavor
Life is about flavors.
Living in the most beautiful places or slipping in the comfort of good quality living is just not it.
Still not enough.
Fun lacks taste - it's bland.
I live in a place that offers me a great system but lacks flavor.
Life is not just the colors.
I look all around me
Facing opposite the audience
I'm in white but the trees bear colored leaves, as still as a picture.
Colors and hues, one dripping in another.
I break the paper leaves and eat them. One gummy bear candy is a glass fruit, another tastes tangy and spicy. I like the spicy ones better.
If I don't take them I'm left with a loaf of bread, devoid of color and taste.
Does that fulfill me?
No.
____________
It is her face. Just the face. And nothing below.
The body is invisible.
It is that she is quite vulnerable when she opens up.
When that happens, I retract a little.
I feel a little intimidated by what she is behind that vulnerability.
At the back of her body which is not there, and where the spine should have been, there is a dim and straight, smokey reddish brown barrier. Like a wall.
Like strength backing her vulnerability.
Is that strength?
No, I call them bricks.
____________
Offering burnt flowers and solace in black comedy.
Dispense.
____________
Sleepy
Eyes wide awake
Time, is cunning
It stays silent
And calculates
People. Places. Situations
It sees through an action
And decides where and for whom to stay still
And where, in fractions of a second, will change everything.
For pleasure, devastation, or some more reckoning.
____________
I got out, intact.
Intact like a tree bark - rough, furrowed, and bare branches adorning a leafless crown.
My blood turned inky and dried out years ago.
Your surroundings are clear
You remain, a moss.
Soft to touch.
... I want to feel it from within - its coarse dead blackness tangles my hand.
There is an uncomfortable pain. I try to withdraw my hand.
I see tiny razor thin cuts from where fresh blood oozes out.
____________
Fence:
It gets bigger in size as I head close. The chain-link fence has thin pickets, hiding its skeleton, adorning in false beauty. Some light peaks through. A vast green field. Further ahead are small trees and sheds; things keep getting smaller that I can't see. More distant is grey smoke... I always see that! Horizon breaks in carbon. Whatever is above that, is too far away and blurry. I move my gaze towards the sky up to the ninety degrees - a vivid outlook, cloudless, and blue. But the clarity spins my head and hurts my neck... I look down at the steel fence, and start taking out the boards.
I have to know what's over there. My breath picks up, and heart races. Climbing over a chair and table as aide, I jump to the other side. Everything looks the same as before, but there is something ahead. Elated, I start towards that direction. I tell myself to stay patient as I progress. Evening hits. Night blankets. My first sunrise reveals.
Things that are hidden and blur will eventually come out, and tell me all I need to know. When the time comes.
____________
Traffic:
I've
a meeting with my destiny.
I
keep reminding myself for the nth time I'm running late!
Stuck
in traffic.
My
heeled sandal is cutting through my skin, and I'm impatient as ever to press
the accelerator.
Signals
change, but cars hardly move.
I
wait for the yellow to get started.
"The
other day I saw a traffic signal where yellow came first, then red and
green" I think to myself.
But
which one is it? Is it changing from yellow to green or yellow to red?
What
am I thinking!
Anxious,
I loose track.
I
look at the road open. Relieved, I push hard on the accelerator.
Some
speeding brakes are grinding closer from the right...
Smash!
A
collision. And a jolt.
Time
stops.
Shaking,
I slowly turn to look at the black car.
I
black out.
Sirens
go off.
____________
Easel:
"How
much longer did you say it would take?" Rubbing my back while sitting on
the bed, I asked him again.
"As
long as it takes for me to get it right." He said while painting on the
easel.
I
collapsed into bed.
He
turned around. Frowning, he walked up to me.
"Hey,
you are still not what I want you to be." He said.
I
kept my eyes closed.
He
put a colored paint brush on the side of my face.
"Hey!"
I said, startled.
"There!
You're a better canvas. Exactly how I wanted it." A triumphant smile on
his face.
I
got up, and looked in the mirror. I became another being.
I
wasn't me.
____________
Tradition:
Distant screams. Music. Creaking rides. Thumping machines. Carnival food.
Seven year old stuffing his pockets with candy, and pushing a few in mine for later.
7: Mom, do you want one?
Me: Not the hard candy, but I'd have a candy floss.
7: I'll go find it.
He runs away looking for the candy floss vendor.
I usually buy for him, but now he's doing that for me. Is there a tradition where kids buy for their parents?
Well! As I wait and watch him getting one fluffed up, I open one of his candies and put it in my mouth.
____________
I sit down to write about my life.
Where
do I start
I
look at the white wall in front
Beyond
that, it turns monochrome.
Outlined
in black. Smeared with oil. Corners soften to form curves...
Door
opens behind me, and I'm brought back to reality. I turn around.
"They
are calling for you." the boy says
He
departs a small, soot black opaque silhouette.
I
look at my notebook again, the paper has no lines.
My
pen is vulnerable to bleeding ink.
Snap!
The nib breaks. I have pressed down hard when writing.
Brows
furrow, lips tense, hands tremble.
I
put the pen down, get up, and leave.
The
calling.
I
let go
Of
something I clung to
In
despair, in desperation
In
the void. Fiery.
I
look up, eyes mirroring the sky.
Becoming.
In
deceit I confront
I
will conquer you!
Flashbacks. The impossible. Past. Moonless hindrances dressed as white ghosts. I awake in the present, holding my sketch book. A nice view. Did I just paint my future?
On
my left and ahead, he sits, contemplating. I smile, put down the tools and bend
forth. I kiss him on the ear.
Going
towards perpetually fated
Voice
a vapor, swirling away misty
And
body rigid, face turned towards oblivion
Roaring
waves refuse to carry me away
I
remain black against the blue.
Seeing
a pigeon tending to its squab; something about it irks me.
But
then I look out the window. Weather is haze and calm. And I wonder, what do I
want...
I'll
just smoke it out!
Driving,
I dread a thunderstorm coming,
sensing
my fear, rain and the winds
allow
me a calm retreat.
An
apple in hand,
And
rain in the background,
I'm
walled up.
How
learnt the magnetic current was, it flowed from your brain.
Vision
so immersed, it is surreal.
The
horizon spoke, gazing in the eye.
"You
have arrived at your destiny!"