Bearing Up

Photo prompt by Ermilablog

Set in a corner of the courtroom, Joan saw a white art-piece, which looked as if it was melting on the pedestal it stood on. The water beneath it, dissolving it further.

“Who’s the petitioner?”, questioned the lady with a large diamond ring, of course – the advocate of pretense –  an intern with a law-firm.

Joan’s lawyer stepped up. “We are, where’s your client?”

She measured him up. Clearing up her throat, (like you always need to, to make way for big words), she said – “Out for work, the hearing would be void”

“We’ll get another date”

Both looked away.

As they waited for the judge, Joan sat in a corner, wondered what this case was about.

Today she wanted to avenge the constant doubt, the irrelevance of innocence, questions on goodness and good things, smothering complaints and the oscillating, ornamental love, born out of need, fear and loneliness.

She was pitted against people, high on placebos of righteousness and arrogance. But little is it known, that the extreme delivers the man. You’re the richest and most potent, when you have nothing to lose.

She would come again. It had been an interesting world, which never failed to entertain. There was so much she knew about the truly delicate and so much and so many- that she wanted to care for.

The hearing got over. As she prepared to leave, she took another glance at, virtually, the symbol of purity and wished to reinstate its impeccability.

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Phoenix

Photo prompt by Ermiliablog

I was late for the show again. Not that it mattered, as without invitation, I was not very keen.

My neighbor had sought me out. Handed me the card and asked me to keep the date in the evening. She was convinced that I would like it.

It was one of those melodramas, which was prevalent widely, and made little sense to me. But the protagonist had been a rising star. And what I knew of her, was enough for me, to honor the word.

I took the seat.

The curtains were drawn, amidst a round of applause. I followed the story as it progressed, and  soon, was lost in a conflict.

If it was about a sprightly young girl, I was seeing shades of an old, broken woman- surrounded by people who lay big claims on her – by birth or of love, but had done a mere lip-service to its meaning. People who knew to sit and talk and mourn and sing and rule and do nothing. And she – ever adventurous – had taken many leaps of faith, for one or the other! Disappointed, but ready for the next.

For the first time, I knew what it was to have a mother’s heart, without being one. With every turn of the event, something made me say – ‘Strength to you, my little one!’

It was queer to forge such an association.

This scene had begun with her standing on the mountain top.

Has she broken the shackles or would she nosedive into oblivion?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I like happy endings. She would rise for her much forsaken self, I believe, and I leave for the exit – ‘Brilliant Performance!’

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Write this after some deliberation with myself. This much for my creative freedom.I would wish this to be perhaps my last post on a certain theme. And yes, I know I’m talking to myself!

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Flipside

Photo prompt by Ermilia

Gosh! I shouldn’t have been here. Such a grim lane, so dimly lit by the moonlight! I can barely see. And this drizzle isn’t making anything better.   Don’t know what made me stay at the ball, for so long. And this robe, that I HAD to wear today. I can imagine my laundry bills, once I get back home – or if I get back home. I hear the silence so loud, that I fear my thoughts can be heard. Will I manage to make it to the main street… God! Please help..and my car, Really! HAD to breakdown in a sordid, dinghy place, like this! And I HAD to take this byway – just today.. Boy! I’m so done with this spooky place, should I run ??

Just as she paced, she heard a vehicle, drawn in behind her, with a shrill noise, slowed down at some distance.

Headlights dip. She feels a rush of anxiety down her spine. Should she stop, or run to safety?!

There in the car, a half-drunk man, anxiously whispers to his zonked-out friend, shaking him up – “Bro! do we see a witch ….??”

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Trudge

I don’t know how I had missed this virgin spot, while zipping through the countryside, visited often. I took out my favorite book and ventured straight up to the platforms’ edge, at the heart of the lake.

This would be one childhood wish,  that I would fulfill.

I lay there, reading the bookmarked chapter, till very soon that I realized, the discomfort of the position. There was nobody to notice me and I felt easy.

Alas!, I had envisioned things through the crowd’s eyes.

I sat up to devour the site of such natural opulence, that I felt a little lost. This oneness was something that I missed often.

To be able to run to a long lost friend, give and have a long warm hug, but for the hurdles of social upkeep, questions on orientation-sexual and otherwise, pride and perception and every other insignificant thing, made significant with time and circumstance.

I had learnt to miss them – for I was wanted, but little.

To have a hearty laugh, at silly stuff, with people whom I grew up with – but for the emotional wreckage, the world had gifted them with.

We had learnt to laugh and sing and dance, nonetheless.

To enjoy beauty, youth and carefreeness – but for the scars that had etched my skin.

I had learnt to overlook.

Little did I know that there’s little truth in the paradisiac innocence. But, without pretense, here it was only peace. The child in me clung to her mother, who’d seen it all and loved her back.

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Virtually Real

“The next exhibit you see is by Sophia” – said the facilitator.

“An artist’s faux pas –  isn’t it dad ? Sloppy hands or maybe butter fingers”

“Oh no,son! This is deep indeed.”

“This is the picture of life. You sit in a bowl full of cereal, unable to have it. Sometimes you don’t have the mouth and at others you don’t have the appetite. Also, there are times when there is no cereal. The instances when you did savor a stomach full of it, are the moments that keep bringing you back, to have it once more!

For the spectators though, you’ve had a spoonful of scrumptious food and you’re still smacking at it, making them feel miserable.

You know, we are incredible!”

“So deep.., I’m not sure if this would have been the photographer’s intent-but that’s a beautiful rendition, dad! Is that experience ?”

“Why should you name and reason everything or can you ?”

“Hmm.. I get it, I wish I could grow up to be like you”

“Well.. that would be a pity! I wish you use it to go a few steps further!”

“..And ladies and gentlemen, our next exhibit by Dev..”

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