She was old. Very old. Her elbow joints and ankle massaged with oil from crushed eucalyptus seeds, shone in the morning sun.
She reclined in the cane chair with a grunt and stretched her legs. Two thin, fair fingers of her's allowed the dense bun at the back of her head to unfold. It dropped open to its full length. Thin, white strands of hair then came to rest against the brown canes of the chair. She pushed back at the bridge of her spectacles and...
Quotes Box
"I have known music to be her timeless reverberation in a forlorn corner of my soul; just when life was closing down upon me with its pangs of haunting silence."
"Hope is the point the 'world within' comes to an equilibrium with the 'world around'."
"The cold that my body feels can be comforted by pullovers of our choices.
It is the winter that comes back each year, inevitably; is how we are connected on the face of time. A sweet suffering of forever..."

"My poverty, I know, was glamorous because trading you, my love, for a better life is outright heinous."
"Love was the day when she drank and I felt quenched."
"Life, ever since, had been one gripping tale. Your happening gave it a genre."
"Want is the soul's desire. Need, the mind's crave. Love, thus, I believe, is a bit of both."
"Art is how you lie to the world without ever feeling sinned."
"Sorrow is true and beyond the powers of healing, when you can taste the oceans on your lips."
© Sobhan Pramanik
x
A MOTHER'S WAIT: AN UNDYING BELIEF
A MOTHER'S WAIT: AN UNDYING BELIEF
~ Sobhan Pramanik |
Tuesday, January 13, 2015 |
Very Short Stories
A GRACIOUS MISTAKE
I thought SHE was the blob of SILVER PAINT that I had MISTAKENLY dropped from the brush of my emotions onto the canvas of my life, to spoil a beautiful painting. I regarded her as a mistake because even after my loving her to the core, she didn't acknowledge my love. She went her way, leaving me broken.
But today when a visitor picked up that painting and commented, I realized how precious my mistake was.
The visitor said, "The moon is amazing...
ANOTHER YEAR
"Another year went by." She remarked looking over her shoulders at our house, standing silent and away from the shore in the dark, amid an hemisphere of barren trees.
I followed her gaze. A tide of cool, crisp wind from the ocean swept across my face. It smelt of salt and the damp grits of sand riding the wind.
The house from the distance, surrounded by the night's calm, looked both desolate and beautiful. Pale light of the moon danced to a slippery...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)