those cherished memories -
smearing fragrances,
spilling colors,
in today's pages.
yesterday, a page written in the past -
forgotten memories,
lost moments,
all safe in the past.
This piece is written in response to the one hundred and sixteenth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘YESTERDAY’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
The above thought was provoked by the simpler times that we enjoyed some time ago, which now feels like was a long time ago. 16 years ago, when I was in college, mobile phones weren’t as popular. There were only some kids who brought their phone to the classroom. Tariffs were still way too high at that time. Phone camera was not that good. But we still enjoyed the functionalities such as games mainly that came with the phone. We couldn’t download new games because there was no provision for that yet.
Phones back then were purely for texting and calling.
Then came out the ones with radio in it. That was revolutionary. The pure joy of listening to songs through the phone was exploited to its max by many of us. I didn’t have a walkman when that was available. Any of you remember walkman? So I absolutely enjoyed the radio on the phone feature as much as I could.
Today, though, I can listen to songs through multiple sources at my will, any time I want to, I don’t do it as often.
That simpler time and its charm isn’t lost on me.
The funny part is I remember vividly the times I used to listen to the songs on the radio, the transistor radio, much more lucidly than any other times.
What do you miss from back then when the times were simpler, but wasn’t easy as it is now?
This piece is written in response to the sixty-sixth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
This poetry piece is written in response to the thirty-second edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘Flash’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
Kavya liked going to the park every evening. Today was awfully cold, but she walked to the park covering herself in layers of cloth. Her attempt to keep her warm in those layers of warm cloth was a failure as the numbing cold held her in its embrace mercilessly.
If Nikhil saw her out in this freezing weather mindlessly strolling around, he would scold her. His scolding wasn’t the problem, she was used to it. He would lecture her forever. His memory is annoyingly excellent that he recalls the events that had transpired eons ago and effortlessly brings them all up into the current moment as if they have all categorized under a particular tag to be remembered as and when he wanted. He’s got a spectacular mind, she thought uneasily.
Memories shouldn’t be used for taunting someone. Kavya thought memories as a savory to make her present moment delectable. Much like how someone discarded spoiled food, she discarded bad memories without a second thought. Why bother with the past and its nuisance when it can’t make her life better? That was her policy.
Nikhil and Kavya were on opposite poles to say the least. Nikhil took pride in analyzing and coming up with foolproof plans for the future based on learnings from the past experiences.
He never knew how to live in the moment, a sigh escaped from Kavya. All his plans couldn’t stop death from snatching his life. If only he lived when he was alive, she would’ve had some sweet memories to cherish now.
Nikhil wouldn’t lecture her now, somehow remembering that failed to make her happy.
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the seventeenth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘Remember’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
In my courtyard,
Lurks those ghosts of memories
Waiting to come alive.
Hibiscus was a part of our childhood. I don’t remember a single house in Kerala without this plant in their courtyard.
Hibiscus leaves were used as a shampoo and conditioner in Indian households. My sister and I loved this homemade shampoo. Those times we never used store-bought shampoos and conditioners on our hair.
Though we were supposed to use the grindstone to make the leaves into a pulp, my sister and I preferred the electric blender for its ease of use. Of course, our mom was not so thrilled when we used her beloved blender to make shampoo which wasn’t food and we were subjected to scoldings as an aftermath.
But it was worth it. Our shiny hair made it all worth it. 🙂
I clicked the above picture inside our apartment complex some days ago. The memories a simple plant triggers…