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| Snigdha Agrawal |
Mr. and Mrs. Bose, elderly and hopeful, sipped tea on their veranda when a charming stranger appeared, offering a golden investment. Drawn in by promises of security and high returns, they entrusted him with their life savings. But the man vanished, and so did their money. Now, they sit in silence, dusk settling around their modest home, once warm with laughter, now heavy with regret. The world moves on, indifferent, as their crumbling house holds only memories of dreams lost. Their tea sits untouched, growing cold, much like the hollow promises they believed. In the end, they were cruelly duped.
****
The moonlight filtered through the curtains as Aarti sat by the window, her hands trembling slightly. She hadn’t eaten or drunk water all day, fasting for his long life. It was Karwa Chauth, a tradition she had followed since their wedding.
The moon finally rose, and she held up the sieve, looking at his face through its mesh. He smiled, but behind his eyes, she saw the worry he'd been hiding.
"Next year, we won't do this," he whispered, lowering her hands. Offering her water.
She smiled back, knowing they both feared time slipping away more than tradition ever could.
****
Grazing on the meadow, a horse meets a donkey. They strike up a conversation.
“These humans are so perplexing. Needlessly, running and chasing. For what?” the horse questioned aloud.
The donkey replied. “They don’t know how to enjoy the simple things, forgetting the grass under their feet, the sun on their backs. Barely living.”
The horse snorted. “True. And look how they treat us. Good only for carrying their dirty baggage while we do the running”.
They arrived at a consensus. “We can fix this easily. Let’s move to the mountains, inaccessible to them. And see how they live”.
****
Anjali looked outside the window. “Look, Arjun, those mountains look like ice-cream cones”, she exclaimed. They were on their honeymoon in Kashmir and had woken up early in the morning to join the group tour to Pahalgam. The air was crisp as they hiked to the most visited valley. The screen on Anjali’s phone lit up. It was Ma. As usual, checking in on her. “Hah! We are fine. Here, talk to Arjun”, she said, handing over her phone to him. By then, the line went static. And thirty minutes later, her life turned upside down. Married to a widow.
****
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