Yours Anonymously

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Solentine English version

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  The birds chirped as loudly as they could, making a noise of their existence. Flapping their small, colourful wings, they hurried in and out of the dense mango foliage. Big, juicy, saffron mangoes hung from the branches. A pop of orange in a sea of green. The sunlight that filtered through the canopy, sketched mosaic patterns on Nirmala’s papery skin. ‘Hey, shoo away!’ She tried staving off the birds, with a stick, from her wheelchair. ‘What makes them so happy? Crazy birds!’ The angry woman spat on the ground in a fit of vengeance. The wave of disgust that surrounded her, for some time now, didn't seem to wash over the birds. In their distasteful company, the warblers still continued to be merry. Yet, their merriment didn't dissolve her discontent. She kept whacking the stick on the mango tree to scare them away. In all the tussle of keeping herself away from the little joys of life, a bright yellow mango fell on her dull, messy maxi. The sight of the fruit made her dr...
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A cold hearth

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 Click! Jess lit her Maralboro and took a deep puff from it. Some remains couldn't be allowed,  to vent out. They had to gnaw at your heart for all the offending, you did with them. She smirked with this thought, and chugged the carbon smoke into her lungs. Ahaaa... It gave her the warmth, the fireplace refused to proffer.  *  *  *  *  *  * "Anne, I will not be home today for dinner. There is this new company we are trying to rope in for the overseas project. The meeting will be followed by drinks and dinner." Jess detailed her roommate while giving final touches to her long eyelashes with the masscara. She walked down the spiral staircase of their rented apartment in New Jersey. Her sharp, pointed  stilettoes made a tapping sound on the wooden staircase, announcing the entry of the Cleopatra in the hallway.  "I will talk to you later." Anne hung up the hour long call as she heard the thumping sound but had failed to hear Jess's commandm...
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Sundri’s reward

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 Sundri pressed her face against the smooth glass plane. Everything looked so crystal clean. The sales girl was going about putting on the lights. She looked every bit like a fairy illuminating the stellar bodies. As each LED shone, under it a glittery, shiny outfit came to life. There were so many mannequins adorning designer frocks and skirts, suits and pants, all for the little ones of those who had bedrooms as large as this showroom. Sundri had her eyes on a white frock whose frills were pristine white like a fresh, frothy sea wave. So engrossed was the pauper in admiring her dream frock that she never realized her muddy palms were creating smudges on the polished glass pane. “Bhago, idhar se!” The sales girl shooed Sundri away. It was an everyday ritual for Sundri to worship her dream standing on the fringes of the shop as the sales girl went about organizing the showroom for the day. In those ten minutes, Sundri in her superlative imagination would have worn the frock, her fr...
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