Posts Tagged ‘fiction’

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image: via pinterest

Roaring lullabies and foaming kisses, the sea her compass. Ruh walks along the edges of the flattening waves. The sand is dark, wet and salty. If she were to walk into the sea now.

She would be a little blob, her skirt spread around like a petal, a spreading stain. Then nothing.

But how long before the sea tears away the torment from her like dead skin?

She clambers into a boat without oars, red and alone, pulled up far away from the sea, which is getting closer now. The sand has dried; a crab on the boat’s rim. The smell of fish sticks to its wooden skin. Ruh settles into its abandonment.

A long time ago, there was a little girl who stood alone in the middle of a playground. An orb of dusty orange flew at her, almost knocked her down. A boy watched with concern and half a smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The little girl laughed. The boy smiled and with him the world. Like starlings taking flight the laughter flew here to this desolate stretch of beach where a woman lay in a red boat. This moment changed forever.

Ruh awakens to a yellow moon, cradled in a boat, rocking gently, watched by a little girl. And just like that – the girl slips over and…poof, she is gone.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

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bengaluru fantastic

My short story ‘Sheela Makes Her Bed‘ is up on Muse India’s Jan-Feb 2018 issue. Grateful to the editor Smita for publishing it. I wrote it while doing a course on social issues and identities. Do give it a read 🙂

 

20180118_152738-1

so the goal was to buy books under inr 200 and by authors i haven’t read with a little room to cheat. the result was this. © Anuradha Prasad 2018

altar of light beings

Half a moon, cloaked in silver blue,
around her ripples rainbow halos.

Beside her, the night blinks in stars.
The stars…always the stars:
cold glory, warm spirit.

In the sacred reflection of night’s light,
do you see you?

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

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image: via pinterest

Outside, the squirrel;
shrill jabs tear
open vast silence –
thin ribbons, smooth
here, jagged there…
a rearranged tapestry –
vivid silence, fading
cacophony.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

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bird song, london underground via the feather collective

the sweep of my hand lights
the slow fire of a blush

spreading over searing scars,
awakening pain folded in

three neat squares. i don’t
linger but it’s too late, and as

my hand trails unseen paths,
whole and unbroken, you

in your meticulous way
fold the old horrors, and

when i return, i find
three neat squares.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

twilight

image: via pinterest

the blue-green hour:
indecipherable
bewitching
symphony of light
unfurling her gossamer wings.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

dragonfly

“It is in the movement and in the pauses and it is in spontaneity. I am many things and have many ways and I call on Tatiana when I am lost and don’t wish to be consumed by the herd. Perhaps I will join her soon. When the dead feel more real and alive, you know where you are heading next. For tonight, I wish only to pull down the sky and wrap it around myself. I rest in this void, the canvas of inevitable awakening.”

© Anuradha Prasad, 2015

(Excerpt from a story written during the Tales of Arrival and Becoming course with Judyth Hill)

pondicherry

pondicherry

“She comes from nowhere, with no invocation. She rages. She is fury. I surrender. I commiserate with her pain. Sometimes we are both savages. Most times, I sit back and watch her dance on the bones of demons long dead. But her thirst for vengeance is unabated. At times like these, I pray. Oh yes, I pray, a lot.”

© Anuradha Prasad, 2015

(Excerpt from a story written during the Tales of Arrival and Becoming course with Judyth Hill)

auroville

auroville

“I am of many places, myths and religions,” Aaliyah tells a dwarf who didn’t ask.  

© Anuradha Prasad, 2015

(Excerpt from a story written during the Tales of Arrival and Becoming course with Judyth Hill)