Let it not start
A fire, fire that ends
Fire, fire, fire
Place it in a lamp
And then, look up.
Background painting by – Jennifer Branch
Link – https://jenniferbranch.com/Blog/Entries/Christmas-Card-Starry-Night-Blog.html
Background painting by – Jennifer Branch
Link – https://jenniferbranch.com/Blog/Entries/Christmas-Card-Starry-Night-Blog.html
Sitting on the bench under the tree, Bob was simply gazing. It wasn’t a garden so to say, just a bit of shade and a place to rest; though quite attractive for some, like it was for Bob.
He had kept his packet next to him and was looking very comfortable on that bench. His eyes were staring in one direction but his ears were catching all the noise he was surrounded by.
In such a place where one could not think about concentrating on one element, Bob was surprised by his focused mind.
He felt like a spectator who was looking at a live performance, not involved himself rather just witnessing it.
Even if he wanted he didn’t see individual actions. What he saw was a mass flow. Everyone was dashing in one or the other direction; by foot or by a vehicle; some looking happy but mostly stressed.
Strangely Bob questioned himself, ‘Where are they going?’ He was dumbstruck. He couldn’t assess the reason for such a rush.
Bob had a feeling that they all should stop and look upwards. It was getting dark but the sky was still reddish-orange. Indeed, it was a pleasant sight.
He had a strong urge to ask everyone to enjoy the rich colours, to capture the sky’s vastness and to wait for the first visible star; only to then relish the starry night.
Bob got up. He tried to shout at everyone present in the scene but his voice failed. After a few seconds, he finally said, ‘everyone, look up at the sky.’ But it wasn’t a shout, in fact, his message was pitched below his normal level.
A person, who was just passing him, stopped and started looking upwards. He asked Bob, ‘What is it?’ Bob was alarmed, he didn’t expect any questions. Bob replied in a confused tone, ‘Just…just…have a look.’
Looking hard at the sky that person again inquired Bob, ‘But what is it?’ Bob was speechless. His mind was scattered once again.
A lot of thoughts entered him and knocked his focus down. Bob managed to say, ‘It is beautiful…the sky…?’ That person left Bob with a cold look, munching some harsh words on his way.
Rubbing his face Bob asked himself, ‘What was I trying to do?’ He had no clue. He checked his watch, almost twenty minutes had passed. He took a deep sigh.
A couple crossed him, they had the same bag as he had. Suddenly he looked at his bag, then his watch and took to feet immediately.
Bob’s mind was shouting in bold letters, he could see it through his inner eye. It was repeating some words continuously- ‘THE BAG…YOU ARE LATE…BAG…LATE…BAG…SO DEAD.’
Bob walked so quickly that soon he merged with the crowd. With all those who didn’t hear his message.
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A storyteller, following the ancient tradition of cave chroniclers, standing in vrikshasana (the tree pose) on a hill top (it is sunny, but windy), breathing in and out stories (relishing it all, but at times overwhelmed), declares animatedly that she will continue to – tell stories, share rare story gems, and connect with the pacy universe while also keeping the website ad-free.
Big thanks to my readers. Stay tuned!
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Ya-hoy!
Chiming Stories (formerly Home Chimes)
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Sujata – The Voice of the Unheard
Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam – A tale of role-reversals and downfalls
Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (That which moves is called a car)
Mrinal Sen’s Aakaler Shandhane (In Search of Famine)
La Strada And The Round-Faced Clown
Sherni – Even in the dense jungle, the tigress knows her way.
Gabbeh, the 1996 film, is a simple tale of a gipsy girl, her clan and the way their life goes on. Unfolding beautifully just like an artist painting a canvas, Gabbeh quietly touches the grand questions.
Yes fly! For walking on the second track is dull and usual, but dreaming high, high, high requires tools. Tools like the right pair of shoes, a chirpy, gritty soul that eats butter-jam dreams, a soul that drinks milky-milky creams.
Silver cascade shimmering the night sky, music to the waves and surreal beauty to the eyes, the Moon loves the art of discipline.
It may be difficult to believe for the Moon’s splendour defies time, it stupefies the clock, it follows the path of a dreamer, but how could this be possible if the Moon knew not discipline?
In this moment, I am a little bit of this and a little bit of that, I am complete and incomplete, I am pleased and uncertain, I wish for nothing and I know I have to wait.
Because the distance covered reminds me of the hurdles I have crossed and the ones I could not, it reminds me of a throbbing past and a dreamy future and it reminds me of how much time is left.