TAKEN or GIVEN

The limp body was lying in the pool of blood, waiting to be picked up from the floor by someone who will care enough. The blood wasn’t dark red, it was coral which made it feel like as if the coral reef was bleeding instead of a human body. People, as usual, started to gather around, most of them were there to witness what death looks like, for others, it was mere gossip that they would talk about on their dinner table. And then there are always a few curious ones, who want to know what exactly happened that led to this situation, but none of them cared enough to touch the body. They all assumed that nothing was left, that the light has gone out, and the only thing they could do is call the ambulance to pick up the body. Yes, now it was just a body, ready for burial in the graveyard or might be cremated, who knows, after all, no one came claiming it yet.

The spirit of the body was hovering over it, wondering what the commotion was all about. Why suddenly all these people were interested in her. People who wouldn’t even return her smile were now asking each other about her existence. How come, she became the talk of the town by one act of pursuit. Most of them were whispering, so she couldn’t decipher what exactly they thought had happened to her. The only thing that she kept wondering was why the so-called caring people, who would go mad about run over body of a dog on the road wouldn’t even dare to touch her body which still has few last breaths to take on this mortal world.

She chuckled at the synchronicity of the situation, no one cared enough when she was there, existing with her breaths, and no one cared enough now when she was ceasing to exist with her last breaths. The only thing they were determined to know was whether It was TAKEN or GIVEN?

PS : The story came from the Limerick that I wrote long time back for a challenge.

The Red Gift

There it was, in the open, lying, in front of his blue gate, on a golden box covered with a red silk cloth. A simple yellow stick note slipped under the box. The light from the full moon was making the box and its content glitter. All that was glittering wasn’t gold but was far more precious than everything he ever possessed.

He never knew there would come a day where something that he has chased for so long would be lying at his doorsteps, for his to keep, for a, forever. And now when it was so near, he was afraid to go near it. A surge of sudden fear uproared making him apprehensive, and he felt as if his mere touch would make it vanish away. The disquiet of the night led him to think that all that was happening wasn’t right. Somehow he was questioning himself again and again whether the bestowed gift wasn’t his to behold?

He knew that someone has given up everything to bring it up to him. Someone has crossed oceans and boundaries to serve it to him on a golden box. Someone has given up thyself, for thou were the Thee. The musings of his mind won’t settle down, and they were keeping him away from his long-cherished path.

The zephyr holding the fragrance of what lay in the wrapped cloth, tantalizing his senses, to look beyond his vision. His eyes fell on the stick note, with crabbed writing in red, saying,

“The gift is yours to behold, do what you think fitful.”

The words pierced his soul, subsiding every dilemma of his heart and mind. He sauntered towards the golden gift with the glistening eyes. With trepidation, he picked up the golden box, looking again at the scribbled words, touching them with his fingers and savoring them, giving delight to his soul. And then he unraveled the red cloth, holding the most precious gift of his lifetime, her HEART.

“In your light, I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”  ―  Rumi

Crescent to Full Moon

As darkness engulfs the vacant streets,
I light up myself,
To eat up the delicate shadows,
Of her, fragile body.

She was walking on the pavement, lost in her thoughts, uncared about the drizzle turning into heavy rain. The long wet hair was sticking to her face, and the crocs were squelching on the empty road. A little beam from the nearby lampposts was falling on her left side, and she looked like a crescent moon, awaiting perfection. A deep unsettling feeling has surged inside her. And these fluctuating waves were leading to a simmering pot of fire hidden deep inside her. Why was she feeling so angry? Was it a person or environment, causing her so much trouble. An unpleasant day which started with her losing her black pearl earring in the shower to her nearly getting hit by a car while crossing the road — followed by a stormy discussion with her boss on a new project.

She has given up on people a long time ago, or has she? Was she disguising her expectations from herself? After all, this time did she still believe that people can do things for her, selflessly. Or is just one person from whom her all expectation come rising. But she gave up on him too, a long time ago. And yet here she was feeling broken again because he didn’t reply to her text. She knew he wouldn’t, yet she couldn’t stop her heart from betraying her resolution of never texting him again. How could she, it was his birthday, a date which meant so many things to her. But then it was she who has asked him to leave her alone. She still remembers the night when she cruelly said those words, cutting the last thread of their unnamed relationship. She knew he had blocked her from all the platforms, but she hasn’t done that yet. She didn’t want to close this last gate, what if he wants to talk to her someday and what if when he tries, he couldn’t reach her. Hope against hope of losing or should she say finding herself again in those eyes where the chaos of the world, subsidies. Or maybe she needs to learn the art of walking alone. A tear trickled down her cheek, she smiled wryly and wiped her tear. It’s then she realized her phone was ringing in her raincoat’s pocket. Fumbling she took it out of her pocket. Glistening like a pearl was his name flashing on the screen filled with tiny rain droplets. She looked bemused, and then she smiled, lightning her dim eyes.
Now standing below the lamppost, she was the radiant full moon.

PS: Huhhh… finally after so many unfinished drafts of poems and stories written over last few days, I managed to write this small fiction piece, today. I hope you guys like my attempt. Do share your feedback in comments section.