The Frame

A burst of wind from the same cracked window, caused the Frame to topple over again. It lay there, its occupants grinning up at the ceiling in the bliss of their youth. Was that thin coat of dust shielding them from their bleak futures? Or was it symbolic of the film that covered their eyes, leaving them blind to it? Either way, the trio stood, their arms wrapped around one another forever. Very soon, they would learn about the cruelty of life.

The brain, they called him. He was the one who could achieve anything he put his mind to. He had it all figured out, he told them. He would climb through the rat race and to the top. Once there, he would marry the girl of his dreams, he said. Life however decided, that one wish was all he got. Although he is now at the very top, he stood there lonesome; lost.

The joy, they called her. The rhythm of her feet and the shine of her smile were like the break of dawn. She had it all figured out, she told them. The stage would be her home and she would belong to it. Once there, she would spread the joy even further, all around the world, she said. Life however decided that the world deserved none of it. Left all alone inside four walls, she now has nothing to smile about; lost.

The soul, they called him. He was the one who breathed life into the three. He had it all figured out, he told them. No matter what else happened, he would keep them all together and never let go. For years to come, he would love them, and help them live their dreams, he said. Life however decided that nobody would interfere with its other decisions. Angry and confused, he now lives everyday alone; lost.

A burst of wind from the same window swept through the room again. The frame lay there, its occupants still grinning innocently. The cruelty of life, to them, was just another fable; their dreams were still endless. But that is the wonder of frames isn’t it? Life’s decisions may steal them away, but those little moments of joy, those hopes and dreams, those years of innocence, all held frozen in time; infinite.

********

I’m extremely happy with this piece. I’d love to hear comments and feedback for improvement. Thank you for reading!

Cabin

In a fast-paced world, she stood alone. All around her the herd bustled; back and forth living their daily grind. A hustle for money, a rush for fame, a flat-out sprint to catch the bus to the top of the rat race.
In this fast-paced world, she stood quite alone, her eyes shut. They said she was poor, they said she lacked ambition, and maybe they were right. She had little, but with what she had, she was content.

She was content with her little secret: her little cabin in the woods. A cabin of sweet smelling timber, with green boughs of trees sheilding its roof. A cabin which led out to a cool dirt path instead of concrete heated under the summer sun. A cabin full of locked rooms, each one holding doubts, insecurities, helplessness, hurt, anger, frustration; to stay locked at least for a short time.

Her little cabin, her little escape, where she could run in the breeze, swim in the clear lake, dance under the night sky; away, far away from this fast-paced world. Her little cabin, where time stood still, where she could breathe something besides this noxious air. Her little cabin where she was free, where she was happy, where she was enough…

Her little cabin in the woods…

Serene and peaceful…

Her happy place.

*****

The word given was “cabin” and it really took me a while to put this together. Once I began writing however the words just flew out over the page!

The picture is a handmade drawing that my little sister drew for me when she read this. Thanks Akanksha. You can read her work over at:

https://googleweblight.com/?lite_url=https://pinboardpinnings.wordpress.com/&ei=IeI623FQ&lc=en-IN&s=1&m=523&host=www.google.co.in&ts=1485012099&sig=AF9NednMMLWJQ7IJF7ycLoTQLSG-FeukDQ

As always, please leave your thoughts behind. 🙂 thank you.

Phantom

The moment the child is born, the mother is also born, claimed the bright poster at the clinic.

“That’s not true. I always was and always will be your mother,” she insisted.

Her tears fell as she rocked the crib.

The crib that held her child, her phantom child.

*****

Ah! A successful post after a break. The pieces I wrote for the last couple of days were not quite satisfactory. I think I like this one!

The word given was “phantom.” I understand that the issue I have highlighted here is sensitive. I have done my best to keep it so. 

Thank you for reading and please do leave your feedback. It helps me a lot.