Supreme being of them all!

Are human beings the most supreme of them all? This is not intended as a spiritual or astronomical question. Just a worldly one. Are we the supreme of beings on earth? For most of you, this would be a no-brainer. “But of course” is the answer. Few would be gracious enough to concede that humans have serious shortcomings with respect to many, many attributes: we can’t’ beat an owl’s eyesight, we can’t be as fast as a leopard, we can’t be as powerful as a hippo and so on. However, as a sum of all parts, in general, we humans are considered superior (by ourselves) as we make up for our physical inadequacies with tools and ensure our survival (domination) over other species.

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The Spiral

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photo by Mahdis Mousavi via Unsplash

I clutched the telegram in alarm, crumpling it, re-reading it, not believing it as the tears poured down my cheek spontaneously, drowning the world. I held the railing of the stairwell in front of my door for support, my eyes unseeing the postman making his way down the spiraling structure that mirrored my state of mind. They told me later that I was lucky to have survived the tumble of two stories; being ignorant of how utterly unfortunate I was.


Short story in response to Three Line Tales hosted by Sonya.


Some tidbits on telegram here.

 

Unhappy in a perfect life?

What am I still searching for? This is an all consuming, frequent thought that takes possession of me, as it would a number of you too I suppose. Leaves me with a feeling of something missing in the midst of the best of everything. This phrase captures the feeling eloquently.

She’s stuck between
who she is,
who she wants to be,
and
who she should be

I would really like to know who penned this. It is a brilliant example of capturing a lifetime in 3 lines. It mirrors what I go through and perhaps everyone does. This conflict of having and doing everything you should but “wanting” something else. That is if you do know what you want. If you don’t, the confusion is manyfold.

What do you do at such times? When the need to be someone else is so strong that your perfect life seems to be suffocating? I admit I am not brave enough to make drastic changes to chase a dream. But staying on the same path forever isn’t an option either. So, I have learned to come to terms with this feeling without letting myself drown in frustration. These five points have helped me immensely and I hope that they connect with you too.

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Relic from the past

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Felicia fondly observed the trees through the window from her desk in the public office. They had grown over the thirty years of her service to be more majestic than her shriveled self. The phone below was probably older. A relic from the past; like she would be when she retires. Both would be forgotten…. soon.

She was distracted by a little girl pulling her father to the phone. As he picked her up, she placed the receiver to her ears, consumed with excitement. Felicia smiled. Perhaps some relics would survive still, if only by the curiosity of the young.

Word Count: 100


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

Being stuck

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Photo credit: Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode

“She had no right to be rude to me. Especially when she knows the kind of stress that I am under!!” he fumed as he paced his yacht. Roy’s frustration had grown to unbearable proportions. He felt stifled and stuck in his present job. He wasn’t getting any new ones either being “too senior”. He felt caged and the tension was spilling over at home.

Being lost in his thoughts, he realized he was stuck, quite literally, only after a while; the low tide had left his yacht marooned. “What? This is exactly what I need now!!” he yelled. His anger though, could not be sustained. Forced inactivity has a calming effect on the mind and he was no exception. Nature took over his senses forcing him to observe and admire the jagged rocks, the iridescent green of the moss, the gray of the night edging out the blues. As the tide reversed and the yacht was ready for sailing, Roy was at peace. Sometimes, it is better to just be stuck.

Word count: 172


Flash Fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by Priceless Joy.

 

A case for the acceptance of all

This post has been prompted by my reading “The Gene” by Siddhartha Mukherjee (just started the book). This post is not a book review (the book is excellent though :)). Rather, it is about a thought that was triggered as I read about how Darwin’s understanding of evolution came to be. As far as I know, most people are at least aware of this concept. Many disagree with it and over the centuries there have been many other proposals, refutations etc . However, it is still perhaps the most popular concept of evolution.

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The squishy jelly

tltweek77

Tiny, beautiful, wisp like, there but almost not there, the Irukandji jellyfish was seen by none except the 5-year-old who picked it up exultingly. She went ashore excitedly to show her stunned family the squishy jelly, considered sometimes as the most venomous on the planet. Next day, the local newspaper ran a story with the headlines “Local girl immune to venom baffles scientists”.

Short story in response to Three Line Tales hosted by Sonya.

photo by Pan Da Chuan via Unsplash

Being me

I adorn myself with the armor of timidity
Protection from words is now a surety.
Some say she is shy; such a recluse
Others say her arrogance is beyond excuse.

The verdicts fail to penetrate the armor
It drowns all the noise and the clamor.
Solitude rescues me from the armor’s hold
Leaving me surrounded by all words untold.

With urgency their wish on paper is seared
This poem is evidence of their order adhered.
Shut from the world, the words set me free
To ponder, explore and accept; and just be me.

 

The search

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PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham

I had feared the worst when I had not seen the old man for a few Sundays. I had searched for the immaculate, blue Volkswagen in front of the church; strained to glimpse him nodding to me from under the trees while he patiently waited. I had surmised his atheism was at peace with another’s faith. Where was he?

Next Sunday, I was relieved to see the car. After a hurried search in the trees, I entered the church to find him in tearful prayer. I gasped as I heard Father tell him “She is with Him. She is happy”.

Word count: 100


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

The recycled soul?

Two independent events over the weekend that were coincidentally relevant have forced me to think about fundamental questions of birth and death. In the past, I have studied the questions of birth and death, life and its vagaries, desire and pain, destiny and free will as explained from multiple religious standpoints. However, in the recent past, I have learned to simplify my existence, my world view, my understanding and love of God to very few basic principles. This simplification has allowed me to be far less questioning and far more accepting thereby making life, well, more simple. But these two seemingly small events revived the questions from the past that had been blissfully suppressed so far. Quick context. Event 1: Advertisement that called for essay entries with the title “Who am I”. Event 2: Unplanned spontaneous discussion on reincarnation for a Hindu.

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