Photo Courtsey: Rahul Vats

The Boy by the Window

Posted on 1 CommentPosted in Fable

The boy by the window looked out. He wondered what was special about the day? It was same as yesterday. It was identical to any other day.

 

He was prohibited to look out of the window, anymore. He thought of how and why such restrictions were imposed on him.

 

In his heart, he knew the truth. His parents didn’t know any better. They were like any other parent. They were protective. He knew his friends had similar parents and similar fates. He questioned their judgment. In his heart, he knew…

 

They couldn’t do any better.

 

He was not sure if the sun had risen. His city was blind to the day’s rise.  It was oblivious to the rumba of the dusk and the waltz of the night. The boy tried to seek nature. In his heart, he knew…

 

There was nothing worthy to explore in the vast sky because he could not see the sky anymore.

 

He breathed in the atmosphere. It suffocated him. Tears ran unchecked. Was it disappointment raining down his cheeks or was it resignation?

 

He surreptitiously peeked out of the window while his parents were distracted. He had found such an opportunity every day, for over a year. Disappointingly, his world remained the same. He hadn’t seen the sun or the moon for long. It had been forever since he had smiled at a twinkling star.

 

He missed his friends. Did they miss him too?

 

It was his birthday. Last year, he was excited he was celebrating his birthday in a unique way. There was no school! There was no peer pressure to have the grandest birthday celebration. Sadly, this birthday promised him nothing special. It was like any other day in the past year and more. Would they have candles on his birthday cake? Would he get a Black Forest cake? He already knew the answer to these questions. Nothing could shed away the darkness. A candle would only be a farce.

 

A year had passed. Many more days would follow this day gone by. Would he look out of the window expecting the universe to glisten its blessings upon him? His young mind was crammed with questions. He knew the answer to one critical question, though.

 

For now, his heart only knew how to succumb to the unpromising circumstances.

 

He reminisced those games at the school playground. The boy by the window missed his friends. He thought of his teachers. There was a time, he had hated school and home-works. That was over a year ago. His life had changed drastically since then.

 

Smog had engulfed his world, halting his existence. He called that a ‘Smogulfed’ world. He lived in the unfortunate city that was dazed and ruined by the thick cloud of pollution.

 

Did Australia still have a sunrise? Did Canada still have a sunset? The news said it did. Why couldn’t he hear the birds chirp anymore? Why did he not see trees? Would the lamp posts ever stop burning? Why was he always surrounded by artificial lights? Why did he and his friends live in a blind world when they had eyes to see?

 

The child by the window was always gloomy. Unfortunately, he was born in a polluted city. His city had ignored the warnings of nature for years! He was a sad citizen of a cursed city that had capitulated to the reign of pollution and smog.

 

He said a little prayer. If there was a thing like birthday blessings, the boy at the window would get the gift of living a normal life again. Didn’t he as a child deserve as much? Or was being born in the unfortunate city his curse? Would he never see the smog disperse and the sun shine through? In his heart, he knew…

 

He craved to see the clear blue sky. Was that a distant dream?

 

He perceived a ray of light piercing through the dense city fog. Was that an answer to his prayers? If he was hallucinating, disappointment was eventual. If what the boy saw was true, he would have clean air to breathe! The boy put his face out of the window to breathe in- deep.

 

He was fearful to breathe out. Right at that moment, his mind whirled, his heart pumped, his lungs couldn’t hold it anymore. He breathed out with great force. What came out was a sooty smoke of his expectations. He surmised change wasn’t near.

 

The boy at the window was merely a child. He couldn’t fail at being hopeful. He prayed his next birthday would be shiny and bright, with birds chirping, ants toiling, butterflies flying, trees shedding leaves of joy and his lung enjoying the breath of fresh unpolluted air.

 

With this ardent hope, he shut the window. He knew they could shut him in the house, not his window of hope.

 

 

Sword Of Hope Blog Post Author: Kleio B'wti ©www.wakenshine.com

Sword of Hope

Posted on Leave a commentPosted in Emotion

Your world is shaking, fissuring the dreams.

 

The blood of failure dribs -- drop by drop, shielding your bruised ego in its translucent, soggy film. Yet you are unable to hide the shame.

 

With every glance of the stranger’s voyeuristic eyes, you feel the nakedness of your soul, peeping through. Persistently endeavoring to hide under your skin it fails. The spaces in between your ruptured hide are now miles long, your body is tattered and your soul exposed.

 

It's not in your hands; your self-respect has bleached itself into a gray, crumpled, and defeated slugger. It refuses to move, even creep, crawl or shake. Lying inert it is dying, moaning, and begging to be dismissed. The dejection is too deep and so concentrated that it covers your sight as well as your hindsight in unflattering dark glasses that block anything good from your vision.

 

You are in the lowest of all lows. Your entity feels smaller than an iota -- the tiniest grain of sand. You are no more a living being, nor a plant, nor a seed, not even ash- unaware of who you are, or what you can be. You are a bygone chord in the universe of the breathing many.

It is when this wave of awfulness covers all the colors of your rainbow into soot; something in you awakens.

 

This something slashes through your nothingness, breaks the sad film blinding your sight, accumulates your boons and dismembers your banes. You suddenly stop wriggling in the dirt of loss; pull yourself to your full height – upright! Arm yourself for another bout at your quest. Apply the learnings and wisdom. This slayer is the sword of your hope.

 

Never think you have lost, recollect your assets, and remember the fight is not yet over. Your breath is the talisman of your triumphs. 

 

Author: Kleio B'wti

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Secrets Best Kept

Posted on Leave a commentPosted in Fable

It was Maggie’s birthday and she has been a road runner all day, flashing her new car keys with style, a birthday gift from her single mother, Saayra. Maggie waited for this day for ages; the day she would get her hands on the wheels of her own ride. Her mother had promised earlier in the year that she would surprise her baby on the birthday she turns 19. Maggie lived in a wonderland; she had stuff since childhood kids couldn't dream of. Her mother raised her with too much love and pamper. She wouldn’t wish for things rather simply demand them and they would be there in her room the following day.

Saayra worked as the Head of Corporate Communications and Public Relations at People Opinions Media Publications, a big daddy company in journalism. She had all the resources and finances to lure anyone to keep the smile on her only daughter’s face.  She has been a doting mother and was often criticized for the same reason, but the nature she possessed was induced in her genes since birth, she herself was a fairy for her dad who was a strict Army General had mellowed for her... She had ruled hearts in her days when she never took no for any reason. So she just continued the family trait and went miles to cover girl's the wish drops.

Although Maggie loved her mother Saayra, couldn’t stand her mother’s everlasting ally, Rehan. He had been around even for no reason. He was a dark shady guy touching forties, just like her mom.

 

He always ambled casually, dangling a leather bag on the left shoulder and a deep cut glistened on his forehead. He was definitely a lip smacking guy who carried a mix of a little attitude and little character. Maggie couldn’t stand the un-heady mix and would not even share a coffee on the table while he was around. Her mother’s fondness and bend towards Rehan often created thoughts in her mind about the relationship they shared.

She wasn’t an orthodox school kid, so would have interfered or disapproved of a status her mother would like to give to that relationship. Yet she unwilling to share her mom with Rehan.  Everyone knew the bond shared by Saayra and Rehan but no one ever inquired or challenged them. They sustained it for long and whatever doubts or presumptions people made were all gone during their years of being together. Rehan was a full blown supporter of Saayra and had been a pillar of support throughout her life. People doubted his intentions including Maggie but could never found a blind spot to attack Rehan.

 

It was evening and they were all prepped to leave for the celebration dinner. Maggie heard some murmuring while crossing the study to find her mother and Rehan discussing something. She peeped in through the side curtain and saw Saayra leaning with teary eyes on Rehan’s shoulder while he tried to sooth her, running his hand on her head and downwards. Maggie had never seen her mother so weak. She knew that her mother hid her pain and troubles from her but she had never seen her broken down like this.

 

She often thought if she was a fruit of Saayra’s and Rehan’s party play days. These feelings often killed her extrovert nature and turned her into an impulsive and irritating maniac. Though she lived the best of life with all the pleasures and pleasantries, the thought of her identity and creation made them artificial supports. She tried to be sly but would often forego any discussion regarding her conception by looking into her doting Mother’s eyes, full of love and care.

 

She couldn’t take it anymore, it was hard to crush the feeling in her heart, she felt it was her right to know the truth. It wasn't fair that her entire existence was a mystery. She banged into the library and spoke her heart out to the shocked faces of Saayra and Rehan. Saayra had never expected such words and tone from Maggie and she herself couldn’t believe she possessed them. Her angry words were to know her father and revelation of the relationship that Saayra and Rehan maintained.

Maggie demanded to know all -- the dark secrets and stories she was kept aloof from, the reason she was fatherless child and name she carried. Her mother broke down and fell on the wooden seat as Rehan tried to give her support. Rehan looked into Maggie’s eyes, turned to get hold of his bag and grabbed what looked like a newspaper and handed over to Maggie. She turned to the first page of a twenty-year-old newspaper cutting with a side corner headline --

 

‘Girl gang raped in an SUV, friend beaten to bloodshed’.

Author: Muflis Musafir

 

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