Let’s Take The Final Curtain Call Together

Flash Fiction
A lovely dancing tree.
[Source – Pixabay]

Standing next to the giant old tree, its static presence made Saami sombre, more and more.

He cried, “Saami is now one with the rigid, rough and-and dead, yes, dead and gruesome tree bark, Saami has turned into this tree bark… O, but why?”

Resting against the tree now, now hugging the tree and mumbling, Saami stared into nothingness blankly, quietly. He opened his fist – a flint stone chip, equally dead he thought – and started ripping off the bark once again.

“Saami sees it all, Saami knows the limits, Saami’s dungeon is different from theirs, but… it’s all the same”, he announced in pain.


Sombre Saami’s imagination.
[Source – Pixabay]

The twittering yellow bird, the prancing butterflies, a distant lullaby, the pesky kung-fu crickets’ funny civil war and the red flowers’ bold stance, Saami turned a blind eye to it all.

Even the crickets stopped their civil war to enjoy the rain and the rainbow that day, but not Saami.

“Fools! Saami knows the pattern, Saami knows hope and destiny are always stuck in a traffic jam, and love…”, said Saami two hours ago.

“Love… love coloured Saami’s world black… black is the absence of all colours… black reflects no light… Saami lives in darkness”, he completed the sentence just when the fireflies lit the jungle.

Some rested on his head and hands, but Saami refused to greet them.

With a dry look, sullen eyes and tired limbs, Saami spoke for the last time, “dead, static tallness, this soulless tree bark hates Saami, this is the death penalty, and the most terrible because Saami is not tied, Saami can move, Saami knows, but not anymore, for Saami has become one with this giant numb stubborn treeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…”

Saami spoke for the last time because the lovely, joyous and calm tree’s branch took hold of Saami’s tired body and pulled him up-up-up… in a gushing blast of speed, suddenly music broke Saami’s heart-heart-heart… ta-rum-pup-pup-paa came the sound and immediately replaced it with a musical hub-dub sensation of a heart.


The lead singer-cum-dancer-cum-poser.
[Image by Roy N from Pixabay]

From the top-most branch of the tall lovely tree, Saami could see melodic colours and no darkness, nothing was static for the entire jungle and the river and the wind and the sky and the stars and the moon and the sun (together) danced to the twee peppy tune – and equally soothing, thought Saami – that the animal orchestra was playing.

Every animal – jamming freely – sitting on the top of some tree just like Saami… Saami who started clapping, swaying along and tip-tap-toeing in the air.

The tall lovely tree finally spoke, “Saami, yoi-knowi-da-cosmic-i-dance-sO-‘ell”; Saami was seen blushing brightly before the curtain was drawn.


[Source – Pixabay]

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Fear of Fear

The parched land did give me an answer, but how? Doesn’t it fear barrenness? It answered me though I had to wait for hours and hours as I walked ahead, crossed that skeletal shape of an animal and at last saw a cactus flower blooming.

The falling sky did give me an answer, but how? Doesn’t it fear horizon? It answered me to just look up at it and smile. I felt like I was falling back or was I flying… The night sky presented me with a mystery, with the sparkling mystery. I smiled and realised that I have been smiling the answer all the while.

The elixir of life presents itself to me, but why? Doesn’t it fear absorption? It answered me by flowing and gushing and filling up the planet and mankind alike. By giving itself up, it prospered in all forms and all life. Every glass of water now tells me why.

The sun’s fire doesn’t burn anyone, but why? Doesn’t it fear the cold end? It answered me ferociously by reaching every nook and corner and nurturing every universe. The epitome of supreme action and fiery hope, it burned all the questions and answers, leaving a pure residue alive.

The wind carries all life on its shoulders, but how? Doesn’t it fear burden? It answered me not, rather played with kites, the dry leaves, someone’s scarf, whistling in the woods, chiming music all around, lightly o lightly giving life, life.

The grand truths, moulded in Nature, by Nature, don’t know any fear.


They support answers and questions, I support fear. Silently walking down the approved pathway, I never dare to face a fear. Walls of doubts, plastic wallpapers, radio playing endless talks in a loop, I sit and I walk at the same time in my automatic red shoes. When I stay absolutely quiet, I count it as a good conversation. Fear of everything rules a life.

But when death strikes, in the end or the beginning, it surpasses everything. Death comes without any motive or desire.


Fear of fear confuses me, shackles me, blindfolds me, stupefies me, breaks me… but oddly, never stops me to act.

If fear fears anything, it is action. Action requires knowledge. Knowledge gives you experience, experience makes you wise and a wise person fears nothing.

(This post is written in remembrance of Gin Gin Bandri, a little kitten.) 

Two Blind Crows

Ra-ra’s famous window story.
[Image from Pixabay]

Ra-ra: Why did the window go SHUT… who closed it SHUT… my question is just HOW?

Ra-ra’s friend Coo stays quiet, looking absolutely nowhere.


  Ra-ra: S-H-U-T shut, right when I was about to pick my share and leave…  

Coo: I believe you, it has been so many years since you first told me this story.

Ra-ra: (astonished) Many years you say, gone nuts…? It happened an hour ago.

Ra-ra: Coo, this ain’t the time to argue.

Coo: A while? He died ages ago.

Coo: You’re standing fine, 900 years have passed.

Ra-ra: 900? I have come flying from the west port of Oraffa city just now.

Coo: Oraffa city? Hah! Blind dreams!

Ra-ra: How dare you? I can see very well… you can’t, you blind ugly funny-sounding bad crow!

Coo: I said blind dreams… didn’t call you blind.

Ra-ra: Oh, oh-my, then let me apologise.

Coo: For what? We are blind, the world knows it. Yet…

Ra-ra: Blind we are, yes, yes… very much… (mumbles).

Coo: I’ll complete my sentence… yet we are still alive.

Ra-ra: (flaps wings) Death sentence, I have been given a death sentence and yet I am alive.

Coo: Cool-cool yourself Ra-ra. We are together in this.  


Ra-ra starts sobbing, mumbles again.

  Coo: I am turning left.

Ra-ra: (softly) Left?

Coo: Turned.

Ra-ra: Wait for me!

Coo: Can’t.

Ra-ra: I think I also turned left unless it is the right, or it is somewhere in the middle, who knows.

Coo: Not me.

Ra-ra: (laughs) You’re funny!  


Both Ra-ra and Coo stand quietly. Coo speaks after some time.

  Coo: Hey Ra-ra, you never told me your famous window story.

Ra-ra: I didn’t? How come?

Coo: That’s the truth.

Ra-ra: Well, then listen… the window was SHUT before I could pick my share… someone just closed it SHUT…


The two blind crows talked facing what they thought was the left.


Two Blind Crows
[Image by Santa3 from Pixabay]

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A Seeming

Flash Fiction

That I am and that I am not is a seeming. Life is a seeming just like its partner, death.


A beautiful sunrise/ sunset… a beautiful seeming.
[Source – Pixabay]

Rosaline, sitting on the branch of a huge tree, was collecting the passing clouds. Though friends with the clouds, she didn’t like to see them at night, maybe because she also collected stars.

The day-night cycle confused her. Grandma’s solution “you’ll understand it once you become a big girl” didn’t help Rosaline at all.

And so she started living in different worlds – the-bright-blue-sky-world, the-mischievous-cloudy-world, the-paper-boat-rainy-world, the-sparkling-starry-world, the-moon-pie-world, the-ghostly-pitch-black-world…

Two worlds sometimes merged into one and formed something unique.

Whichever world Rosaline was in, she was always excited to live it fully. Happily, she always announced early in the morning “today I’ll be in the-mischievous-cloudy-world’ or ‘give way to Rosaline, the-moon-pie-world awaits her.”

Lost in her myriad worlds, she lived madly. She even recorded her visits to these wonderful worlds.

She was proud to be the youngest and the oldest member of her family, youngest by age and oldest by the many visits she made to these worlds.

On her 92nd visit to the crunchy-autumn-leaves-world, she died. She fell from a huge tree.

Her last words were, “Grandma, you need to plus 22 more worlds to break my record”.


A crunchy-autumn-leaves-world.
[Source – Pixabay]

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I was wondering about death… then about someone dying and something dying within… is there a difference or is it just the same thing? Maybe the latter is more cruel and inexplicable than the former. One dies and leaves suddenly without any answer, answered or question, questioned… while sometimes it takes time. Whatever be the manner, it makes us sullen… until we are charmed yet again by our friend/foe – Dear Forgetfulness.
And when something dies within, it dies in spite of being very much alive, it dies no matter if you understand the phenomenon or not. The aloofness rules and takes you away from that person. Rosie and Vanessa are still friends and share a lot with each other, but one of them knows that it will never be the same, ever. This invisible but imposing wave that runs smoothly in this world was the reason that made one of these friends aloof. She is always busy with something or the other.
I talked to my psychoanalyst friend about it and she got the opportunity to lecture me about her theory (she has one for everything). She said that in both the cases, when someone dies and when something dies within, a return-trip ticket is possible and in the majority of the cases it always happens.
The theory goes like this – one can connect with the dead through memories, resolve things in the mind, make up stories with happy endings and firmly believe that the dead one is happily floating and dancing somewhere in the sky (she laughed for five long minutes, saying that one of her patient saw his late dog doing samba one starry night); when something dies within you, its dead body remains inside you, it then depends wholly on the person to either do the burial ceremony properly or let it roam like a zombie. She said, “Fascinatingly, a majority of the people like to have a zombie….”
There were umpteenth dimensions of this theory (she spoke for two hours) which didn’t clear anything to me. I mean what do you mean by ‘sometimes you become friends with the zombie, sometimes you try to kill it and sometimes the zombie turns into a butterfly and is redeemed’? Balderdash! She is bonkers!
It was only later that evening when I sneezed loudly and couldn’t find a handkerchief in time, that I realised what my psychoanalyst friend was trying to say. Sneezing and realizing…it is not linked, I just wrote it to tell the eh …am …the chain of events. I washed my hands immediately. Yes!
Anyways… oh … I was talking about death and… how incredible is this… my friend/foe… Dear Forgetfulness you are too much.
One last thought – I know I will die one day, but this simple truth is something very powerful, I don’t mean I am now waiting for it. Why wait, when it is coming sooner or later. But I thought of it with eyes closed and I saw snow capped mountains and it made me feel grand. Should I share this theory with my psychoanalyst friend? Oh! Not at all! It’ll mean another long session, a very long one or simply death.

An Appeal

I make an appeal to all of you to be aware, to search for the truth and to realise it. I request you to know the purpose of your life, the reason that makes you ‘you’; to be knowledge thirsty so that you understand your place in the universe and the universe in you. To help others not with money but with heart; to be a better person. And especially to make your life larger than your fears of life.

I appeal that don’t participate in the blind race which makes you so busy that you forget to live. And busy in what? In earning money, building house, buying infinite things; a material world, a material life, a material you and a material death. What is the point of running a race that might leave you materially rich but spiritually hollow? That in the end if you ask for love you get a plastic hug?

First school, then college, then job, then marriage, then kids and then planning the same for the kids. All this with creativity…many holidays and many movies and many social activities and endless views about everything…a perfect planned life with an expected death. It is suffocating if you understand the monotonous method we have been following for living (with some exceptions of course).

I would like to share with you that in our one life we can either do all of the above things or we can rise to a higher self where life is full of happiness and death is blissful. So we can do a lot and die or we can feel the sublime and unite.

I appeal again to you that death is a reality, the greatest one. As soon as we grasp this idea our life changes into a beautiful journey till we meet our end. And hence, my request to you is not to burden your mind with any fear, with the concept of surviving and compromising because we all will meet the same end. The only difference will be that the one who knows himself and his life, will also know his death and the one who is too busy in something or the other will find death as an unfair shock. What a pity to end in such a muddled manner!

This appeal is to every human being irrespective of the man-made boundaries that has divided us so magnificently that we murder each other for guarding it. We get the dose of patriotism from childhood that by adulthood we become madly passionate about our country and foolishly ignorant about the Earth. It is nothing but a sad joke we are all part of.   

Lastly, I hope we all realise that it is not about right or wrong, good or bad, you or me…it is much bigger. I hope we realise that we all are one and we will again become one…just like we were one before the Big Bang.

Big Words Are Going Somewhere


Time is a big word

And a big cheater

It swears to stay

But never stops to say

Even a goodbye

Love is a big word

And a big cheater

Love is what is beautiful

Though not without pain

At its best when slain

Life is a big word

And a big cheater

Full of opposites

Charming by nature

It tricks a keen creature

Death is a big word

And a big cheater

Feared by the greatest

A truth that stands tall

Accepted in the end by all

The big words are going somewhere

With a small word ‘smile’ I stare