I loved train rides as a child. The views, the open skies, the wind in my hair and the differences in terrain, people, customs, dialects and food would amaze me. To an eight year old, who's world was confined to roughly a ten square kilometre area in the city, train rides were portals to another world.
At nights i would sit up near the window and observe the black night and it's inhabitants.Electric wires running parallel to our train would run a marathon with us, going up and down, forming a crest at a transformer or a pole, and then descending into a gentle trough, then up again.... You could see blackened silhouettes of trees, poles and buildings passing by and the train lights reflecting on the ground whooshing past us. The moon was a co-passenger, tied to one of the bogeys with a really, really long piece of thread. The only thing constant were the stars and the soothing rhythm of the train chugging on slick rails. Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle.
These sights, repetitive they might be, were an experience for young minds who look at the world with different eyes. Adult eyes don't see such things. Adult eyes only see things as they are.
Some years later, I became an adult and in the process of gaining the knowledge and capacities of a full grown mind, I lost my imagination and I had no way of finding it, till my daughter was born.
In her vivid imagination, there's little difference between the real and the imaginary. Bananas are telephones. Her toys have lives, preferences and names just like real people because her toys are real. Her cup of milk has chocolate islands. And Humpty Dumpty is someone to be scared of.
Everyday is a new discovery along with Anika. Everyday I look at things anew. It's like I'm living my life with Anika-colored-glasses so that everything looks new, possible, sparkly and good.
On your birthday, my darling little girl, I hope and pray that you never lose this capacity to imagine and believe. That you never fall prey to the obstinacy of a limited mind. That you always look and find wonder and ceaseless possibilities in the most mundane of things.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL! 😍😘💞🤗
New short story on the blog, folks!
Immorality is not confined to a person or a place. Be it a temple a church, a mosque or any other place of worship, heinous and lesser crimes will be committed as long as man breathes.
This story is a satire on ritualism in religion and the obstinacy of human wickedness.
Please head to the blog to read, like, share ann comment.
Link in bio.
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#shortstory #creativewriting #fiction #ritualisn #flashfiction #ontheblog #ontheblogtoday #writingcommunity #writersofinstagram #writersofig #writersofindia #igwriters #igwritersclub #writergirl #amwriting #bloggerstribe #bloggergirl #amateurwriter #fictionwriter #religion #humanity #immoral #rituals #evil #wicked #satire #funny #humour #comic #faith
It’s lonely in there, isn’t it?
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Oh heck yeah! The search goes on and you never find anyone. How’ve you been Lee?
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Just fine, Pradita. And you must be busy…haven’t seen you in a day or two.
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Yes I am. Daughter isn’t too well. Have been under the weather myself.
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Ah, I am sorry to hear it.
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Thanks 😊
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To the perfect you👌 lovelt
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Thanks Jen darling
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Perfect!
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Haha! Thanks 😊
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bahut badhiya……beautiful.
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Thanks a lot Sir 😊
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Nice one
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Thanks
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Welcome, How r u
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I’m good Daneel. How have you been?
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I am also fine Pradita
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Only in imaginations….👍
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True that. Only there…
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Well said. Often, we carry so much storms in our head and an illusion that never hurts:)
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Yes. But i it does make us more stupid 😉
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Ya!!! I know…we build unwanted stories in the head…lol it does make us stupid.
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😂 😂 😂
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Haha this is perfect!
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Thanks a lot Pragalbha 😊😊
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You are very welcome 🙂
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🙏😊
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Wow!! It’s all in the head. 😂. Beautifully written !!
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Thanks a lot. Glad you enjoyed it 😊
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This is amazing…. A perfect write up indeed… 🙂
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Thanks a lot Ashish
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My pleasure.. I have missed many of your posts… will try to cover as soon as possible… 🙂
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No issues at all. I especially ought not to mind when someone misses my posts because God knows I’m not regular with reading anyone else’s. So really, no issues at all 😀
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Oh, wow I loved the thought, the thought of being perfect and yet absent!
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Thanks Moushmi 🙂
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Whom are you talking about? If it’s about God, don’t stop searching Him. I have found Him and He sustains me… And if it’s about anyone else then it’s ok as you will know that person better than me…😉
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It’s not God and it’s not anyone else. It’s an idea in my head and that’s why he eludes me. Actually, this applies not only to me but to everyone else who seek perfection in people and compare them to the notions of a ‘perfect person’ in their heads. The notion of a perfect person does not exist in reality, but our minds, they don’t let us be.
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Absolutely! We all are mortal human being and can’t be perfected with our flesh and blood. Bodily sinful desires and urges always stamps our imperfections everywhere even we try to be perfect all the time.
Great poem.
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Thanks again Dada.
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