The finest thing

With a flourish , and the ease of a master salesman , he waved the cool, silky, soft fabric in my face and pronounced,"this madam, here is the finest thing you can ever hope to buy."
Layering the fabric on a growing pile of shawls, he slapped his thigh with genuine , childlike enthusiasm, to heighten the dramatic effect.
Eyes gleaming and darting at having registered interest, espying a possible customer, He added, with greater joy, "This,"waving his wandless hand like a magician"is pashmina, the finest wool in the world."
"Yes,yes, we heard that, " my practical husband's rejoinder came , almost immediately; testily adding"how much?"
I could sense a storm coming up, and reluctant to create a scene , in front of all those people, I put down the shawl with a resigned air.
His face immediately clouded over.
Like a seasoned seller, he knew it when the battle was over.

The dog family

(How do you title a story about a family of stray pups and their vagrant mother, and a family or rather a block of families that has adopted them ? Simple . The dog family. Canine or human , your choice !!)



They appeared suddenly, and unpredictably, like the bad weather.
Two bitches, one pregnant , and the other in last stages of life. Both were skin and bones, and both were capable of loud barks and displayed ample interest in food matter of any kind. (One was found nibbling leaves too).How is one to tell the difference between the living and the dying?

You can't. Both clung to life, like limpets. Chasing people carrying fragrant food hampers, sleeping in a garage they claimed as their own, and trying to turn male pets into prospective mates.

Every morning , a platter full of toasts, eggs, milk and other goodies would be kept in the garage by the faithful minions of the generous garage owners, and would be noisily dispatched , within minutes.

The nights would be quiet as both slumbered on a warm bed of old gunny bags, sheltered from the cold wind whistling outside. Occasionally, the brown bitch(the pregnant one ) would seat herself on some porch she fancied, and let out long melancholic howls, that resonated into the cold wintry night, making hearts cringe. In the villages, howling of a dog is considered bad omen-a harbinger of death . Dogs are also thought to be in the possession of the enigmatic "sixth sense".

A week later, the pups, eight round, cuddly masses of brown , white and black fluff were born. They were born at midnight,and in the morning, while their mother licked them clean, and they fought for a nipple-hold , tumbling blindly over each other, the other skinny bitch, the lean companion of the "brown bitch", was run over by a speeding truck.

The late arrival

The class would be in a state of uproar when she entered.
Tired of waiting, the twins would be throwing missiles of chalk-stubs at each other, Ramya , the front-bencher Greek Goddess, would twist herself into a knot and anchoring her hand at the junction of two desks, would be animatedly recounting last night’s episode of the popular soap opera to her rapt audience behind;Amol would have climbed up on his desk and giving a rip-roaring rendition of Justin-Bieber’s latest hit, to a raucous accompaniment of enthusiastically thumped desks , Jaya would have just dispatched last pink coloured paper airplane with its secret message (in encrypted malayalam) to its recipient in the back seat ,Sonu would be busy picking his nose and wiping it underside the desk,on his desk-partner’s side, who was totally absorbed in hijacking the pink paper airplane midway. Jaya screamed her disapproval in chaste malayalam, calling the interloper names which he didn’t comprehend, nor was inclined to; and Miss Keya Ghoshal , the late arrival would be standing at the entrance,(“darkening the doorway”- Mother Superior would remark,acridly) disapproval and disgust writ large on her round, dark, lipsticked face. Silence and order would slowly, and very reluctantly return to the now very littered and disorderly and breathless classroom.

The moonlit gate

It was, by far, the ghostliest and scariest sights ever, in her memory.
In the moonlight the gate, long unhinged at one of the hinges, creaked dolefully, as it swung back and forth, with every breeze.As if a monster slumbered, snoring gently. The house abandoned long ago, the path leading to the house choked with creepers , looking like ghostly arms , crawling towards her.
She would remember"The Monster House". And swiftly shut her eyes, tight.
She wouldn't open them again, till she reached the reassuring bright lights of her porch.
By then, she would have recited "Our Father " at least thrice.  Phew!!

Patients' Progress

One day
You are fine and fit
and are calling the world
"it"

next day
you are
in" it"

Worst
you don't
even
know it.

Strange
otherworldly
alien
primeval

your sentences
garbled noises
your thoughts
rubbish

you
a painful
mass of flesh
oneself

racked with
agony
of unspoken
words/thoughts/reactions

what are you?
human/inhuman
subhuman
where do you
stand?

Science
stands
a befuddled
bystander

While
world
thrashes
crashes

agonising
swaying
in and out
 of conscious
and unconscious
pain