#PinkyOfHowlTales 2

Have u ever wondered why 'na-baalik" (non-mature - biologically) is buried and post a certain age people are burnt after death!

Have u considered the possibility that till u start truly deteriorating beyond a point of use....burying you means your flesh and bones enrich the soil...while post a point of deterioration of your body...u do not add anything but nuisance value of pollution and hence are burnt away and made into ashes that can be dispersed away either via submitting u to the wind or the water....

Why does earth just one of the pancha bhutas get the best...while the rest are mere purifiers...which exist to primarily refine you again and again into such fine form of dust that you are either settleable or soluble and eventually come back and get deposited on earth...

As pinky unwittingly locked her eyes with him over the dancing lights of the pyre he was stoking...she was frightened that his eyes just posed this question to her, flouting the civilised rules of "unaware" existence!!

His consciousness just invaded her so harshly, yet so honestly...with such integrity that she felt offended that he was so truthful with her...with a mere contact of an eye!!

Damn him! Damn the audacity of his honesty...

Damn his still flamboyant locks of wild hair, which used to make her want to at-once crush him with a passionate embrace...

Pinky Stormed away, swearing to herself that a stiff gin would wash away his cruelty and his memory!!

She swore to her self that nostalgia be damned...she would never meet him again and she would take the first flight out of Varanshi in the morning!!

TO BE CONTD...

‪#‎WolfTales‬ ‪#‎PinkyOfWolfTales‬ ‪#‎pinky‬ ‪#‎WolfTale‬ ‪#‎PinkyOfHowlTales‬‪#‎HowlTales‬

#PinkyOfHowlTales1

It was her 72nd birthday & pinky was right where she wanted to be...in Varanasi. Born & brought up in Bombay, ex air hostess from the good old days when she could dress chic & not get draped in a badly designed & boring government saree...pinky thanked her stars for her half Parsi half Gujarati family which was as urbane and with it as one could possibly want to be.

Well she was still the gals gal and the guys gal and she was proud that she could still swing a gin or two more than some of the desis who were a decade or two younger than her & she could yet beat them at bridge without as much as a hic!

A birthday party at varansi seemed the right-exotic thing to do, she wanted to experience the Indian rustic for once like the colonial british did...spiritual and all!!

Little did she know that she would bump into the only man she ever loved on assi ghaat working as an ordinary wood gatherer and pyre tender...slaving away at stoking the dead for a few rupees every night!

As the gin pinched cheeks drained and accquired a pale white palour...she wondered what happened to the handsome, wealthy maverick pilot she so loved!

...to be contd!

#wolfTALES #pinky #wolfTALE #PinkyOfWolfTales #PinkyOfHowlTales

#Perched

Perched on the edge of the balcony, with charcoal smeared palms & a glass of expensive wine mixed with a lil bit of cheap local brandy...sunaina felt understood all of a sudden. Understood by nobody in particular and the universe in specific. Suddenly, all of a sudden after 23years of existing...she felt alive.

Littering the space behind her were filled-up canvas boards. She was by now used to calling her dabbles "expressions"...because she definitely could neither draw a straight line nor had an inkling of colour, mix or light! She just smeared raw passion on canvas and hoped people would see the passion and admire her.

Tonight though (at 2:18am) she didn't feel the need to be appreciated. For the first time she smeared something for herself...possibly it was too dark (almost belonged to the realm of dorian gray...oh! Well perhaps not...her secrets were also not that exotic) for it to be a pimping of her passion for appreciation!

But that helped! She finally felt she did something (even if by default) which was only for herself! She was her only audience and she was the snobbish critic, she was also the ticket seller to the show and she was the performer!

As she ushered herself in (craned her neck backwards to admire her work) the curtains went up and she applauded who she saw...herself...in those lil...meandering smears...

Something snapped! It was frightening...frightening to be that free, to feel so light...perched on the edge of the balcony she felt as if she had wings....

She knew she did...she just knew she would never be the same again! She knew she could fly...

The warmest of smiles purged her face of anxiety, as she hugged herself tight...totally in love with herself as she switched off the bedside lamp and snuggled into the comforter...waiting for the natural drug of sleep to kick off the mere conscious.

Oh! No she left the wine glass at the balcony and she knew the wind most probably would break it into multiple pieces by the morning...but then she told herself...people in love with themselves can forgive themselves a broken wine glass and a frowning cribbity maid!

So she said goodnight to herself as she snuck into herself and switched off the alarm!

‪#‎wolfTALES‬ ‪#‎HowlTales‬

#AtHome 

So on a hot sultry day the fisherman sailed into the sea, reluctant to tide the turbulent sea...he still could feel the belly-full warmth of the home made meal...his limbs ached with the craving for the pinching grips of the squared up threads of the tough cot, his eye lids yearned for the hot breeze which blew across onto the shore and made him drowsy and lethargic as if he was a helpless lump of boneless dough! But then he realised...it didn't mean anything...the salt of the sea, the turbulence of the tides were the inevitable reality...his coarseness was soothed and appreciated only by the coarseness of the sea...being adrift perpetually and being lost at sea...was the only way he could find himself....being homeless was the only way for him to feel at home...the only place where he was loved was where there was no love!

#HowlTales #WolfTales