Wicked!

India

◢◤

Daydreamer. Bibliophile. Fangirl.

ENFP-T

Writer's block and sleep deprivation are my constant companions.

Marvel and Harry Potter are ❤
(Other fandoms are too, but just not as much, you know?)

Message from Writer

“Yeah, sometimes life really sucks. But you know what I'm holding on for? The moments that don't suck. The trick is to notice them when they come around.”
―Veronica Roth, Allegiant

'Tips, Hints, & Other Miscellaneous Things to Know When on WTW' by Dmoral13:
https://bit.ly/346L7BB

Feedback really helps, people. Be brutally honest, I don't mind.
Reviews are greatly appreciated, but if they don't offer any criticism, they're not much use.

Published Work

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020

paint the sky vermilion


my bones,
drained of marrow,
cannot stand this
anymore;
let my knees
buckle, let me 
fall (to the ground).

go, paint the sky vermilion. 

let the heavens 
erupt in wrath,
lightning dripping
with relentless passion,
fury of the gods (that 
you hold so dear).

raise the flag up high 
in the sky; let my blood
spill, let it cleanse
your drains
(let it cleanse
your brains).



 

60 Followers! + Q&A :)


I recently reached 60 followers, and this piece is to thank everyone who clicked on that follow button as well as to everyone who ever appeared in my notifications :)

​I started writing less than a year ago (except for when I randomly wrote two poems when I was eleven), and found WtW soon after. And man, I'm so glad that I did. For one, I like to think that my writing has  improved here. I also got to read some absolutely amazing stuff here. But I guess most importantly, this community and all of the people here who read my writing and left likes, comments and reviews made me actually stick to writing (unlike when I was eleven). (Not that I write a lot tbh, bUT.)  

The fact that 60 people out there liked my writing enough to follow me means so much to me; I'm honestly just absolutely bewildered but very, very grateful. Every like I get fills...

I Had Promised Her | #Samina50


​I sink to my knees, the rifle falling from my grubby hands. I can no longer do this. All around me, I see blurs of khaki, fighting until Death plucks them away. But I just cannot. Every inch of my body aches, my bones feel broken. The unending pungent smells of gunpowder and blood make me feel dizzy. I long for Death to take me into her arms and rock me to eternal sleep.  

I think of home; of the smell of the freshly ploughed cornfields, of the peace of the countryside.  

I think of Ellie.  

Her honey brown hair, fluttering in the breeze. Her beautiful eyes, warm and brown. Her smile, enough to light up my day.
 
I think of those days—working at the farm throughout the day, and then going for walks along the winding country roads, hand in hand with Ellie. The movies we saw at the cinema, followed by ice cream at Billy’s. The countless evenings we spent by the river,...

Op-Ed Competition 2020

Hindutva is Poisoning and Dividing Indians | #Samina50

​It was the day of Holi, a Hindu spring festival. The sleep inertia had barely left me when I heard shouting and rhythmic clapping from outside. From the balcony, I saw a group of men from our housing society standing in a circle in the middle of the main roadway, clapping and shouting slogans, with two of them dancing in the middle of it all. 'Jaago Hindu, ek baar jaago toh,' they were chanting. Wake up Hindu, wake up once. What's unfortunate is that the sight of adult men dancing in the streets, calling on Hindus to 'wake up' did not surprise me as much as it should have. It saddened me terribly, but with everything happening in the country—and with everything that had happened since the Hindutva-supporting Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) emerged victorious in the 2014 general elections and Narendra Modi first became the Prime Minister of India—it wasn't much of a surprise.

While Hindus constitute 80 percent of the Indian population, India is also home to...

Meera | #onetrick(2)


(i) The summer is long and hard but, glory to the goddess, there's no famine in the desert this year. Yet the summer is even more special for the royal family of Merta, for the Rana's youngest son is blessed with a daughter. She has hair black as ink and skin the colour of the desert sand. Meera, she is named. Prosperous.

But prosperity will turn out to be the last thing that Meera will grow up to seek. 


(ii) The wedding procession looks small from the distance but Meera, now six, is nonetheless enthralled as she looks on, standing with her mother at one of the numerous large windows in the palace. She can see the bridegroom sitting on a white mare, both decked up in colourful finery. 

"He'll become a husband now, won't he, mother?" Meera asks. 

"He will."

"Who's my husband?" Meera looks up at her mother to see her smiling.

Her mother points at the...

paint the sky vermillion | #onetrick(4)


my bones
(drained of marrow)
cannot stand this
anymore;
let my knees
buckle, let me
fall (to the ground).

go, paint the sky vermillion.

let the heavens
erupt in wrath,
lightening dripping
with relentless passion,
fury of the gods (that 
you hold so dear).

raise the flag up (high 
in the sky); let my blood
spill, let it cleanse
your drains 
(your brains).




 

Sliver of Sunlight | #gbluck


You could call it a coincidence, but I'd say that it was luck. It was luck that led me to you. 

I've never been one to strike up conversations with strangers, but when you started talking to me that day sitting next to me in the bus, I realised how much I really needed that—laughter and cheer.

I found you at a time when I was lost in a cacophony of despair; you were a sliver of sunlight in my leaden sky. 

There was something so comforting about you, that just immediately put one at ease. Perhaps it was the way you smiled, flashing your slightly crooked teeth and crinkling up your honey brown eyes. Or maybe it was the way you leaned a little forward and widened your eyes ever so slightly as you listened to someone speak. 

Whenever I was with you, I could pretend that life was a joyride. I could forget the demons weighing me down,...

Op-Ed Competition 2020

Hindutva is Poisoning and Dividing Indians | #Samina50

​It was the day of Holi, a Hindu spring festival. The sleep inertia had barely left me when I heard shouting and rhythmic clapping from outside. From the balcony, I saw a group of men from our housing society standing in a circle in the middle of the main roadway, clapping and shouting slogans, with two of them dancing in the middle of it all. 'Jaago Hindu, ek baar jaago toh,' they were chanting. Wake up Hindu, wake up once. What's unfortunate is that the sight of adult men dancing and shouting in the streets, calling on Hindus to 'wake up' did not surprise me as much as it should have. It saddened me terribly, but with everything happening in the country—and with everything that had happened since the Hindutva-supporting Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) emerged victorious in the 2014 general elections and Narendra Modi first became the Prime Minister of India—it wasn't much of a surprise.

While Hindus constitute 80 percent of the Indian population, more than...

kurukshetra | #apoemaday21


the bronze glistens in the 
dying sunlight of an autumn dusk, 
as wisdom is passed from 
god to mortal, 
of dilemmas and perils, 
of duty and sacrifice.   

but i only marvel at the 
grandeur of the chariot, 
the ancient wisdom lost 
on my juvenile mind.
 

in and out of the clouds (revised) #Helpme2020 #MagicalRealism


my grandmother says that the xarae are the children of fire and water. they live in the turquoise depths of the innumerable yagha in our land, lakes that formed in the hollow craters of perished volcanoes. but the fire of the xarae is all but dead, for it comes, as the tales say, from within their souls.

they are not what you'd call fierce, though they certainly look the part-- sharp claws, large wings, eyes as brilliant as molten gold and whip-like tails with tips that they can ignite in flames at will. as a child, i used to lie down on the soft green grass in the evenings, looking up at the flocks of xarae gliding in and out of the clouds, their lithe legs folded up under their golden bellies. sometimes i used to imagine myself flying with them, graceful, elegant, free.

my people consider the xarae auspicious, and it is believed that if a woman heavy with...

A Week in the Life of a Discontented Teenager | #SecondPerspective

** I don't want to give any spoilers, but this piece mentions things and details that might make you uncomfortable. If you, quite frankly, find the realities of the world too distressing, you might not want to read this. (I most certainly gave spoilers just through this warning, but WtW is too damn strict so I guess I had too.) **


Tuesday, June 4  

I opened up Instagram this morning, and guess what? Ria Sharma has gone on a trip to Goa with her friends! How cool is that? A trip with her friends. To GOA! God, my parents would never allow that. They didn't even allow me to go on that school trip to Ladakh last year, where a bunch of teachers accompanied the students. Teachers who apparently thought it their solemn duty to treat the students like a bunch of seven year olds, "for their own good". I wish my parents were, like, a little relaxed. Honestly,...

all over again | #apoemaday19 #kickoff #lovein2020


i look at the pyre enclosing your
lifeless body, the amber
flames dancing on the wooden
logs, but all i can think
of is your smile, enough to
brighten up my day.

only if i could see
your smile again.

a faint breeze caresses
my face and i feel the ghost
of your long fingers on my
waist, the faint pressure of
your lips on mine.

only if i could feel
your touch again.

the wood crackles, the
flames hiss, and i think
of the possibility of an
afterlife, of meeting you
once again.

only if i could fall in
love with you
all over again.
 

disappoints | #ArtOfCompression


as i look at your back bent over the old leather-bound notebook, 
the pen scratching strings of words across its yellowing pages, 
i long to voyage across the seas that splash in your mind,
the ones where you lose yourself when the world only disappoints.
 

glad | #apoemaday31


your eyes are now a
faint red, your lashes
still wet with tears.
your lips quiver faintly
and your cheeks,
tinted with pink.

you're knee deep in
sorrow, yet you
look prettier than a
spring rose, prettier
than anything
that ever came
down from the heavens.

i don't know why
angels cry, but
as i look at you,
i'm glad
that they do.
 

That One 2018 Trend I Wasn’t Here To Witness


Horror:
I am left shooting arrows in the dark, terrified, not of the shadows, but of what they conceal.

Adventure:
As I look at your back bent over the old leather-bound notebook, the pen scratching strings of words across its yellowing pages, I long to voyage across the seas that splash in your mind, the ones where you lose yourself when the world only disappoints.

Romance:
I tried my best to be someone you would love—I killed my dreams, killed my soul, just for a drop of your appreciation—but darling, even if I’d turned into a flawless rose, you'd only have complained about my thorns. 
              
Miscellaneous:
I asked for the truth, thinking that it would be like water to my parched heart; but darling, I never knew that you were harbouring a devastating flood.
 

Love After Love

harbour | #apoemaday29

in that dark haze, i was 
a ship lost at sea. the 
waves were tossing me 
around, they were threatening 
to engulf me. i was praying for 
help, pleading for someone 
to pull me out of the water, 
someone to bring 
the shore to me. 

only if i hadn't taken 
so long to realize 
that the harbour i had 
been searching for had 
always been somewhere 
within me.

let you go | #apoemaday28


ria told me that
she saw it coming but
darling, i wouldn't have
believed it even if an
oracle had uttered
those very words—
i guess i never really
wanted to let you go.
 

and then there's nothing | #apoemaday27 #oddsbodikins


crying rivers
​flooding my own heart
blood
soul
trying to hold on
when there's nothing
left to grasp
​got my head in the clouds
and now
​my mind's floating
eyes blinded
and then there's
  nothing
​but
   let me be
   let me live
   in my paradise
   in my nightmare
 in my shrouded skies
 

conceal | #apoemaday26


and i'm left 
shooting arrows 
in the dark, 
terrified, 
not of the shadows,
but of what they
   conceal.  
 

disappeared | #apoemaday25 #oddsbodikins


oh, she was a little imp,
your mother says, smiling
broadly, and you smile back
at her, trying to be as cheerful;
but i know darling, i can
see the sadness in your
deep brown eyes, like the
bricks peeping out from
where the faded pink paint has
chipped and the cement has eroded
in the veranda walls; and i
wonder where that carefree cheer
disappeared, i wonder why you
concealed yourself, why you
hid among those bricks.
     

they rule over me, i don't have a voice anymore | #apoemaday24


but the pain and the memories rule
over me.
    they choke me and now i can't
breathe, i feel them gripping my
throat, tighter now. i tell them to stop but
they don't listen, they never do, they
control me, they rule over me, i don't
have a voice anymore.    

trying to break f r e e | #apoemaday23


and i'm
running—
trying to 
break f r e e—
as fast as 
i can but 
all these memories
have got me 
under 
        checkmate.

but here in this land, we promise equality | #apoemaday20

 
**I wanted to start the piece by quoting India's constitution here which, tldr, is about the Fundamental Rights granted by the constitution. Also, if you support the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill, you can honestly either piss off or pick a fight with me**   

THE CONSTITUTION OF INDIA
PART III 
FUNDAMENTAL RIGHTS     
General 
13. Laws inconsistent with or in derogation of the fundamental rights
(2) The State shall not make any law which takes away or abridges the rights conferred by this Part and any law made in contravention of this clause shall, to the extent of the contravention, be void
(3) In this article, unless the context otherwise requires, (a) 'law' includes any Ordinance, order, bye-law, rule, regulation, notification, custom or usage having in the territory of India the force of law   

Right to Equality 
14. Equality before law— The State shall not deny to any person equality before the law or the equal protection of...

thorns | #apoemaday22 #oddsbodikins


and i tried my 
best to be
someone you would 
love and adore;
i killed my dreams, 
killed my soul, 
just for a drop 
of your appreciation.   

but darling,
it wasn't long before 
i saw the light
and realized that 
even if i'd turned
into a flawless rose, 
you'd only have 
complained about my
    thorns.  
 

believe me | #apoemaday17


betrayal.
    believe me when i
    tell you that it hurt--
    like a thorn
    piercing my soul-- 
    even when i 
was the traitor.
 

disappoints | #ArtOfCompression


and as i look at your 
back bent over the 
old leather-bound notebook, 
the pen scratching strings of words
across its yellowing pages, 
i long to voyage across the 
seas that splash in your mind,
the ones where you lose yourself when the world only
   disappoints
 

caught in a blizzard | #apoemaday15


and now i'm caught 
in a blizzard 
of lies and 
deception and 
trickery and 
i'm screaming 
my head off 
for you to save me 
from the deluge, 
but you only shove me 
further in
 

like water to my parched heart | #apoemaday14

 
i asked for 
the truth, 
thinking that it'd 
be like water 
to my parched heart.
 
but darling, 
i never knew 
that you were harbouring 
a devastating flood.
 

again | #apoemaday13

 
and as the candlelight
illuminated your face, 
lighting up your 
brown eyes and 
raven hair and 
radiant smile,
it seemed to me that i 
fell in love with you
all over again;
       again, for the umpteenth time.   
 

addicted | #apoemaday11


your love was
laced with poison,
but it was
too sweet
and i
     was addicted
 

If I fall | #apoemaday10

 
Now I'm
Walking a tightrope
And it's swaying.
There's nothing
To hold on to,
No one
To catch me
If I fall.  

I'd hoped--
I'd believed--
That you'd
Be here
For me;  

           But when did you ever keep your promises?
   

dripping | #apoemaday9


and i believed
that all those
kisses
were dripping with 
undying love,
when all it was
was sweet,
sweet poison
 

hazard | #apoemaday8


and
loving you became
so dangerous--
like riding
a unicycle on a tightrope
with a chasm beneath.

        but darling, was there ever a hazard I didn't relish?
 

flicker | #apoemaday7


and for me
in those tumultuous times
you were like
a firefly--
a glimmer in the dark,
a hope in the despair.

       but when did a firefly flicker for long?
 

These wrinkles | #apoemaday6


Don't hide these wrinkles, For they tell tales Of the years gone by.   In these creases lie Imprints of the Happiness you spread, Tears you shed, People you loved, Lessons you learnt.   Don't hide these wrinkles For they tell tales Of triumphs and trials Of hope and grief.

Pray | #apoemaday5

And the doctor just said,
‘Nothing can really be done now.
Pray for a miracle,
Maybe it will save her.’
 
And that’s what I did,
Pray to the gods old and new,
Wishing, hoping, begging,
For a miracle.

       But when did the gods ever listen to my prayers?

 

bewitched | #apoemaday4


i think that it was
the way your brown eyes sparkled
when you smiled
(making my heart skip a beat)
and
the way your ebony bangs shook
when you laughed
(making my stomach flip)
that bewitched me
and made me love you
with all my heart

but it was
the way you laughed
as you saw me burn in love
that wrecked me
and made me realize
that you were an enchantress
i should have shielded my heart from
 

chestnut in a wave of gold | #apoemaday3


the stallion
trots along in the
autumn grassland

chestnut in a wave of gold
ebullient in a wave of lifeless


and as my blue heart
peeking out from my ribs
looks at him

chestnut in a wave of gold
ebullient in a wave of lifeless


it hopes that he never
has to wear a bridle
that the reins of his heart
are never in the hands of another

chestnut in a wave of gold
ebullient in a wave of lifeless


it hopes that he can always
trot along in the
autumn grassland
unchained,unshackled

chestnut in a wave of gold
ebullient in a wave of lifeless


 

sparks | #apoemaday1


my sweater still smells of
                  (balmy) smoke
                 (burning) wood
                (burnt) charcoal
         the bonfire
as i think of (us)
             a bunch of (kids) teenagers
            around the fire,
           laughing (broken)
          sitting cross-legged (at life's crossroads)
      the sparks from the flames
     dancing in the wind (in my heart)
    
and the sparks
   between you and i
         (or was that my imagination?)
 

Beautiful | #beautyofessence

​Many people tell me that I'm beautiful on the inside as well as outside. But they are only right about one, and they know it. They tell me that I'm pretty--that I'm beautiful-- yet they flinch when they look at the burnt side of my face, where the flames have gnawed at the flesh, tearing it apart. They don't think that I notice it-- the sharp intake of breath, the widened eyes, sometimes even a small gasp-- but I do. I notice it all, try as they might to cover it up.

A kid at the supermarket had once asked me what that thingwas on my face. I wish I'd told him that it was the mark of a phoenix that had burst into flames, only to rise from the ashes again. But I had remained frozen to that spot for some seconds-- with the kid staring at my face with curiosity-- only to run away in a...

shimmering | #LightShadow


and i let the
shadows fall on myself,
just so that you
could shine in the light darling, shimmering
like the stars we were
born to be.
 

of a rose and a water lily | #quickrhymes2


you are a rose
and
i'm a water lily

you be my prose
and
i'll be your poetry
 

fading | #Colours | #Whatislove?

it was a rose of the deepest, darkest red, almost tipping over into maroon's territory. it was perfect in every way, as if artemis herself had spent hours creating it; its velvety soft petals, close together, yet curling way outwards; its sepals, trying to shield the petals from the world, but giving up eventually, letting them shine in all their glory.

i had kept it in my journal with the dark blue leather cover, the year emblazoned on it in gold print, reduced to a little inconspicuous bump when you ran your fingers across the cover. i'll preserve it, i had thought, pressing it between the stark white pages, crisp with newness.

it was my birthday that day, and we had whiled away the time sitting on the soft green grass, in the warm winter sun. i love you, you had said, giving the rose to me, your inky black hair fluttering in the gentle breeze, your brown eyes...

in and out of the clouds (revised) #Helpme2020 #MagicalRealism

my grandmother says that the Xarae are the children of fire and water. they live in the turquoise waters of the innumerable Yagha in our land, lakes that formed in the hollow craters of perished volcanoes, their fire all but dead.

they aren't what you'd call fierce, though they certainly look the part-- sharp claws, large wings, eyes as brilliant as molten gold and whip-like tails with tips that they can ignite in flames at will. as a child, i used to lie down on the soft green grass in the evenings, looking up at the flocks of Xarae gliding in and out of the clouds, their lithe legs folded up under their golden bellies. sometimes i used to imagine myself flying with them, graceful, elegant, free.

my people consider the Xarae auspicious, and it is believed that if a woman heavy with child sees her belly's reflection in the golden eyes of a Xarae, her child will be as...

Forgotten #blackandwhite

The girl will scurry up to her mother in the kitchen-- who will happen to be giving instructions about the lunch to be cooked to the cook, a frail young woman-- clutching a cobalt blue dress in her small fists, its long sparkly frills trailing behind her.

"Hole," she will simply say, trying to look at her mother through a small hole in the fabric, barely an inch in diameter.

Her mother will say with a quick glance in her direction, "It's okay, sweetie, I'll get you a new one."  

"But I love this dress," she will say, almost on the verge of tears.  

"We'll talk about it later," her mother will reply with a flick of her hand.  

"Now," the girl will say, throwing the rumpled dress at her mother's feet.  

Her mother will then sigh in exasperation, crossing her arms. "Okay, we'll get a new dress, just like this one. This weekend, okay? From...

The First #tellastory

“This view is just amazing,” she says, peering out of a viewing aperture.

I go and stand next to her. The sight is certainly stunning. The galaxy looks splendid when you see it with your own eyes.

“It’s beautiful. But not more than my girl,” I say.

She laughs and gives me a peck.

“I can’t believe that we were the only volunteers for this. Would you ever get to see this on Earth, with that stay-within-the-designated-limits-or-you’ll-die-of-radiation crap?” she says.

 “Not everyone’s that dauntless, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad that you aren’t one of those pussies”, she says, wrapping her arms around me, "Or I’d never have met you”.

“So. Tomorrow’s the day. You’ll become the first person to actually step out of our Galaxy.”

“Yeah. I’m so excited, I think I might forget to collect the samples when I get out there”, she giggles.

“You’d better go and sleep now. You need the rest. I need to do some...

Maa #songofmysoul

I slam the door shut behind me as soon as I enter my room. The last thing that I need right now is drones of relatives asking me the same thing again and again. Oh, she was fit as a flea, how did this happen so suddenly? As if I know. As if I could ever have known. My head feels heavy, swamped with everything that the day brought with it. I sit at the desk, resting my head on the messy pile of papers there. It feels like forever, my mother laughing at my terrible jokes, her eyes sparkling with warmth, though it was only yesterday. I try to imagine her smile, but I can only see her lifeless body, now draped in white, out on the living room floor. I feel the tears sting my eyes, their warmth burning my eyelids. I sit up then, refusing to let the sobs take over me again. I rummage for a...

Esraeha |#thisismyway |#this_is_my_world

if you were to unexpectedly find yourself in this land for the first time, the first thing you would notice is the light. it is everywhere, like the mist that shrouds the pine trees in the woods on a winter morning. the light is dazzlingly bright--bright, in fact, to the point of discomfort. but if at all you're here, you must be an Aaraeh. and if you're an Aaraeh, the light won't blind you. rather, you'll find it comforting, soothing you like a mother's caress.

the next thing that you would notice is the silence. it is not the deafening silence of nothingness, but the silence of serenity, bustling with peace. it makes you feel content, it makes you feel fulfilled. you would feel the tranquillity taking over you, enveloping you in its wholeness.

it is then that you would notice the lake. it lies in the heart of the land, its gleaming waters looking like polished marble, glistening in...

Six-Word Story

caution

proceed with caution: splintered souls ahead.

I Had Promised Her | #Samina50

I sink to my knees. I can no longer do this. I just cannot. All around me, I see blurs of khaki, firing machine guns, fighting until Death beckons them. But I can no longer do this. Every inch of my body aches. I long for Death to take me into her arms and rock me to eternal sleep.  

I think of home; of the smell of the freshly ploughed cornfields, of the peace of the countryside.  

I think of Ellie.  

Her honey coloured hair, fluttering in the breeze. Her beautiful eyes, warm and brown. Her smile, enough to light up my day. Her clear, ringing laughter.  

I think of those days—working at the farm throughout the day, and then going for walks along the winding country roads, hand in hand with Ellie. The movies we saw at the cinema, followed, always, by ice cream at Billy’s. The countless evenings we spent by the river, surrounded by tall grasses, the occasional dragonfly...

#thingsihate

Well, there's actually a ton of things that I hate (the first one being the fact that I was ever born), but here's a few of them.

People who like giving away spoilers.
If that look of shock and surprise on a person's face after you gave them a spoiler increases your dopamine levels, then I'm sorry (I'm not) but you're despicable.

People who don't respect library books.
The fact that you didn't pay for a book doesn't mean that you can be as careless with it as homo sapiens have been with the planet. It's a book. Not a fly swatter or a coaster or something that you can throw at irritating imbeciles (I do that all the time).

Religion.
I believe that it's the most stupid thing that humans ever invented. It's the root of so many problems in the world today. Kill religion and you kill them all. If it weren't for religion, my country would have...

sorry love, it says #HomoSapiensStory

sometimes
it's slow
it
c r e e p s  on you
   stealthily
tapping your shoulder
flesh and bone
sorry love it says
but this is it.
it's
   The End
of love
of tears
of emotion
of  y o u.


sometimes
it's sudden— surprising
it
j u m p s  on you
   out of the blue
knocking the air out of your lungs
heart and soul
sorry love it says
but this is it.
it's
   The End
of hate
of smiles
of emptiness
of  y o u.
  

   
But is it?

fragments #sixlittlestories

1.    and i believe the lies. again.
 
2.    splintered souls. crumpled hearts. forgotten dreams.
 
3.    heaven and hell, you and me.
 
4.    reminding me of her, yet again.
 
5.    he was an ocean of emptiness.
 
6.    constellations and galaxies, all inside me.
 
7.    her ringing laughter and terrible screams.
 
8.   caressing my face, feeding me lies.

9.    but i prefer it this way.
 

Where the heart is #Home

They say that home is where the heart is. And I don't know about you, but my heart definitely lies inside me. Not cocooned in four walls somewhere, nor in a patch of woods on a hill, nor by a stream flowing through a picturesque hamlet.

Nowhere, but somewhere inside me.

My home is my place of solace. It's a place where I can be myself, without being told that I'm no good. It's a place where I will always find acceptance, no matter what.

I don't allow most people in. I could say that I prefer being alone, but the truth is, I'm scared. Scared of what you'll think when you see what's inside. Scared of being used conveniently and then thrown away. Scared, that once I let you in, I will not find the courage to throw you out if ever need be.

You'll probably tell me that it's not good for me, that I need to open...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Fallen Angels

The breeze caresses my face, reminding me of her. I gaze at the stars twinkling against the inky-black sky, resembling faux diamonds she loved wearing in her hair.  

Papa once told me stars were fallen angels, people we'd loved and lost.  

I wonder if it’s true or another white lie adults tell kids, shielding them from Life’s harsh realities.  

It’s fictitious. Obviously. Stars aren’t dead people, but a bunch of gases. Yet I want to believe it—imagining her sparkling comforts me.  

Then I see a tiny star, glimmering fiercely—must be her.   

I smile, content to see my daughter shimmering.

Where the heart is #Home

They say that home is where the heart is. And I don't know about you, but my heart definitely lies inside me. Not cocooned in four walls somewhere, nor in a patch of woods on a hill, nor by a stream flowing through a picturesque hamlet.

Nowhere, but somewhere inside me.

My home is my place of solace. It's a place where I can be myself, without being told that I'm no good. It's a place where I will always find acceptance, no matter what.

I don't allow most people in. I could say that I prefer being alone, but the truth is, I'm scared. Scared of being used conveniently and then thrown away. Scared of what you'll think when you see what's inside. Scared, that once I let you in, I will not find the courage to throw you out if need be.

You'll probably tell me that it's not good for me, that I need to open up....

Here are my answers :) #fantasygroup

​1. Do you want to join this group? 
Yes!

2. Would you prefer if I created the group by publishing the prompts, or an actual group like "Flash Fiction?" Explain. 
I'd prefer an actual group---It'll be more organised and would also make it easier to access the prompts.

3. What is a catchy name for this group? 
Uh, I'm not good at this, so all I can think of is 'Fantasy Writing'.

4. What do you consider "fantasy?" 
Something that recreates our world as different from what we believe it is or creates an altogether different such world.

5. Do you think that fantasy poems can also be included? 
Yes.

6. Do you think I should also give an opportunity to fantasy reviewers? 
Definitely!

7. What is a good time I should post the prompts, so that you all will see it?  
You should probably post them on one specified date of every month. As for the time, I don't think that it really...

Fallen Angels

I remove my shoes and lie down then, right in the middle of the park. The cool summer breeze caresses my face, reminding me of her. The grass tickles my ears lightly, just like she did. Towards the East, the inky black sky has already started turning cobalt. I look up at the stars twinkling against the cloudless night sky, looking like the little faux diamonds she loved wearing in her hair. 

My mother once told me that stars were fallen angels, the people we had loved and lost, who looked over us as stars in the sky. When dadu* had died, we had stayed up all night, searching for the brightest star in the sky, knowing that it would be him. 

I wonder if that is true, or if it is another white lie that adults tell kids in their attempt to shield them from Life’s harsh realities. 

Of course, it’s all nonsense. Stars are not dead people, they’re just a...

Only If...

I look at the pyre which encloses his lifeless body, but all I can see is his smiling face. His was a smile that could make anyone’s day. It had the power to dispel sorrow and to instil hope in even the most dejected person. It had the power to melt my heart.

Only if I could see that smile again.

The cold winter breeze caresses my hair, and I feel the ghost of his long fingers on my waist, the faint pressure of his lips on mine.

Only if I could feel his touch again.

My eyes drift to the clouds in the blue summer sky, and I’m transported to another time, when we were but young fearless souls and used to spend nights lying on the damp grass, our fingers intertwined, looking up at the stars twinkling against the dark sky.

Only if I could live those nights again.

“He lived a happy, content life. How unfortunate that...

When the Cicadas Started Screaming

For almost a minute after I come to my senses, I can’t remember where I am, and how I came to be here. Every square inch of my body aches and my arms feel numb.

I realize that I am blindfolded. I reach out to remove the blindfold, but I can’t— my hands seem to be tied behind my back. First comes shock, and then, sheer terror.

Slowly, I run my hands across the coarse wooden floor and discover that I'm not very far from a rough plywood wall. I slide across, leaning against it. My head throbs so fiercely, I feel like it is on fire. I can’t make out anything through the blindfold but can hear the trees rustling gently in the cool sea breeze. I can hear the cicadas chirping, and if I strain my ears, I can only just hear the sea waves ebbing.

I rack my brain but am unable to recall anything. My mind...

Wishing for a Miracle

It happened for the first time when she was in the queue at the billing counter of the only supermarket in our small town. She was as healthy as ever but had suddenly fainted. At that time, we had all attributed it to fatigue. I knew that what she needed more than anything else was a vacation. But of course, I didn’t mention it–we could barely make both ends meet, and a vacation seemed like a distant dream.

That incident was quickly forgotten. But it happened four times that week. That is when we realized that it could no longer be dismissed with a wave of the hand. After a series of tests at the city hospital, it was revealed that she had fourtht-stage blood cancer. The doctor grimly told us that nothing could really be done.

That was a month ago.

She was cremated yesterday. No miracles here—even though I was desperately wishing for one. Life isn’t, after all,...

When the Cicadas Started Screaming

For almost a minute after I came to my senses, I couldn’t remember where I was, and how I came to be there. Every square inch of my body ached, and my arms felt numb.

I realized that I was blindfolded. I reached out to remove the blindfold, but I couldn’t— my hands were tied behind my back. First came shock, and then, sheer terror.

Slowly, I ran my hands across the coarse wooden floor and discovered that I wasn’t very far from a rough plywood wall. I slid across, leaning against it. My head throbbed so fiercely, I felt like it was on fire. I couldn’t make out anything through the blindfold but could hear the trees rustling gently in the cool sea breeze. I could hear the cicadas chirping, and if I strained my ears, I could only just hear the sea waves ebbing.

I racked my brain, but couldn’t recall anything. My mind felt as blank as...