Skip to main content

Snapshot of my story for a fiction project /Magazine

 

Maya gave an involuntary shake as that memory flashed in front of her. She remembered every small detail of that everyday ritual. How could she not! She used to get restless to see Satish and desperately wait for those magnolias he gave her. Jaya always envied her and she went all green-eyed looking at those magnolias in her hair. That was so childish of them, she thought. Nevertheless the memory gave a reason to put a smile on her face. That face which lost the path of smiles and embraced a perennial frown.

With the letter on one hand, she got up to examine those magnolias that they planted it together. They were given by Satish’s aunt on his birthday and what did he do with that. He urged Maya to take it with her and when she gently rebuked him for giving his own birthday gift, he came along with her post school hours and planted it on his own. Robbed off all plausible excuses, she had to submit to him and his childlike requests.

The bright little magnolias winked at her, swaying to the tunes of the wind, seated like a crownless queen among the profusion of flowers in her terrace garden. She picked one and inhaled the scent of it. The scent assaulted her senses and took her to the world unknown. Really Magnolias had magic, she deciphered. She took one hair pin and pressed the magnolia stem and slid between the teeth of the pin. Gently, she pinned it on her hair.

Examining the beauty of magnolia sitting on her hair, she felt like a class 10th student again. Standing in front of Satish with Jealous Jaya by her side.

And what about those magnolias that stood the test of the day? Were they still treasured?

Maya opened the chest of drawers. The worn-out wooden furniture rattled making a grating noise. A brown coloured little diary belched its stomach as numerous sheets were pressed inside its thin figure.

The withered magnolias were prisoned inside the diary away from human eye. Bringing them to her nose and inhaling the remnant of their fragrance, she was transported to the different world altogether. Like the coffee dregs in a mug, these little memories stood tethered to her. Only difference is the water washes off the dregs but here nothing could wash off those memories. Certainly not!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Unspoken words with Intense gaze.................

Vindhya was sipping hot cup of coffee on her desk. She was reading a quarterly report of her company. As she finished, she glanced at the debt market desk opposite to her. She cannot see him. She was yearning and longing for his eyes, innocuous smile and seductive charm. She was searching for those eyes since one week. It had been a long wait though. Vindhya was an introvert, shy, pretty young lady. She dressed up in a traditional style with Kurti and salwar with nicely braided long hair. She had a finance masters in hand and was working as an Analyst in a financial services firm. Her co workers liked her not only because of the way she looked but also the way she spoke, behaved and her whole nature. She was a quick learner and efficient at work. Ameesh was a Debt market dealer in the same company. He was a reserved person and never mixed with people around. He had a fixed set of 3-4 friends whom he used to hang out with. It had been six months. Vindhya and Ameesh were a
12 comments
Read more

A Nosalgic drive to my Chawl

“Amma, it feels like you have put on the AC. Air has grown cold”, said my 7-year-old lifting up her beady eyes from her maths homework. A cheery hurray followed. I shook the clothes firmly and filed them neatly on the cloth stand. Yes, indeed. There was a light nip in the air. Not due to AC. And, certainly no change in the temperature. It was still a blazing 38 degrees outside. I smiled and was whisked off to my childhood days. To my nondescript haven that would have looked more picturesque in a child’s sketchbook than in reality. A chawl which housed 14 flats adjacent to each other, spaced out at an arm’s length. A place where people were knitted closely together regardless of what social standing they were in. A place where we children had not one but many houses at our perusal to watch television, eat lunch, sleep under the warm covers and take refuge from the angry monsoon spells. A place where aimless wanderings were honoured but not bothered by ruthless meanderings of the rou
Post a Comment
Read more

AN EROTIC LOVE STORY

How can I live without you? I have my soul stirring for you. My breathe trusts you. The every sip of you I take, I gain my years. One fine day, the heat waves hit me. When the body sweat gave me shiver down my spine and tinkled me, I could just remember you. I smiled, enjoyed and felt you. When there is heavy pours and when I drench in it, you come in my mind. It is like you are there everywhere. I can feel it.   When I feel like biting you, you almost melt on me and I end up drinking you. When I paint some picture, you come to my mind. Suddenly, my hands urge to dip in you, touch you and brush you everywhere. Tsunami brings back to the memories of your anger. When you are in that state, you drink me. That sinking feeling is special. When I am on a shower, you come and hug me tightly. My heart races up. I get the feeling that you have almost reached me. I could see that as you touch me, you take the roads untraveled and reach almost everywhere. I am b
12 comments
Read more