Wonder

I think wonder is a beautiful feeling.

And I feel fascinated by the same things again, and again.

Realize the potential of your mind,

All created by a slimy organ that is nestled in a cage of bone.

Your imagination can literally take you anywhere.

Revel in this knowledge, soak in the power that you have.

Realize that we’re all different,

And there’s seven billion of us.

That’s seven billion shades of different.

There’s going to be someone in this world to agree with everything you think or feel.

Realize that everyone has their stories.

Realize that the boy you just saw across the street could have been your soul mate, but you’ll never see him again.

Realize that you might not have met your best friend if you hadn’t missed that train.

I personally don’t believe in fate, but I see how some coincidences seem too good to be true.

Say something extremely random like, ‘someone’s drawing a unicorn right now’, ‘someone just heard their favorite song,’ ‘someone just met a person who will change their life.’

Realize that this too is true.

It’s happening out there, somewhere in the world.

Look at the sky above you, whether it’s blue or grey or pink.

Notice how fast the colors change, almost like moods.

It’s like the sky wears dresses,

Wrapping itself in a cloak of clouds,

Or wearing scarves of stars, with the Milky Way weaving itself through.

Look at the sky again, and marvel.

Observe the people around you as if they were characters in a story,

Laugh at their quirks.

Laugh at yours.

Don’t take things too personally.

Look around you at what you see every day, but lean forward, look deeper,

Find beauty in the obvious.

I think wonder is a beautiful feeling,

Because you can spend forever being mesmerized.

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One injured, one killed in car accident

Bangalore – One was severely injured and another killed in a car accident on MG road on Monday evening.

It was a relatively empty road that evening with not much traffic at all. Surprising, really. We were arguing again, and it was making me lose focus. ‘Keep your eyes on the road!’ he said again and again. But that just irritated me even more. There was nothing to worry about. He was treating me like a child. I didn’t like it.

A couple, Ramesh, 42, and Sunita, 39, were purportedly driving home on an unusually empty MG road when they were hit by a lorry.

It came out of nowhere. Hurtling from the other side of the road towards us. Ramesh saw it first. His eyes widening in surprise – I thought to a comment I made – but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking out in front. Before we could say anything, do anything, before I could let go of the wheel or shield myself, or apologize to Ramesh, it was all too close. Black and orange was all I could see. Red was all I could feel.

The lorry driver was reportedly inebriated and had been speeding. On turning the road, he failed to notice the car which, eyewitnesses mentioned, had slowed down.

‘We think they were arguing, or perhaps talking on the phone. Definitely not paying attention to the road,’ a source, who does not wish to be named, commented.

A drunk guy, a measly argument. That’s what led to the death of my favourite person in the world. It was my fault. I should have looked at the road while driving. It was my fault. I miss him so much. It was my fault.

An ambulance and the police were immediately called. The couple were rushed to the hospital where Ramesh was declared dead on arrival and Sunita was noted to be in a critical condition.

A police constable held my hand and pulled me out of the wreckage. ‘Ramesh’ was the only thing I could say, my voice hoarse and agonized. I was in so much pain, it was like I was being burnt. But where was Ramesh? How was he? The constable carried me to the ambulance. ‘Shh,’ he said, ‘he’ll be fine.’ Why did he lie?

Sunita was later declared to be in a stable condition.

I made progress in my recovery, but I would be paralyzed for life. My husband was dead. The love of my life was gone and I missed him so much it was a constant ache in my belly and my heart.

***************************************************************

I threw the newspaper aside. I didn’t know how to feel about the article I had read. I begrudged the fact that a paragraph on the third page of the newspaper could summarize an event that had ended a whole chapter of my life.

Meeting the Future

Okay, so this based on a writing prompt about imagining what your future looks like, writing six word story on that, and then proceeding to write a whole story. And also, no hate to Hagrid, yeah? I love that gentle giant ❤

six word story: Future says, ‘I depend on you.’

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I sit at a table, in a large conference room. The ceiling is wooden and the floor is covered with a thin grey carpet. There is a black door behind me, and the table is oval. I can feel my palms shaking – ever so slightly – because of what’s about to happen. In some ways, it’s so weird. In others, it’s downright terrifying.

The door behind me opens and in walks a smart looking man with a briefcase and an extremely long coat. He stretches out his hand, and says in a British accent, ‘Nice to meet you, I’m your future.’

—————————————————————————————————————–

The first thing I blurt out is, ‘You’re not me.’ Well, duh. But then again, I totally expected my future to be me, only taller, and smarter and prettier.

Future gives a curt nod of agreement.

Well this is weird.

‘That means you’re either a totally random person, or someone important in my life…’ I say, and I realize I like the latter idea quite a bit. The man is not at all bad looking, and it’s always been  my dream to have a British hubby, maybe even someone who could call me ‘love’. And stick out his pinky while sipping tea of course.

Future shakes his head, ‘I’m not your husband. You don’t get married actually, I’m the reason you die.’

‘You can read my thoughts? And what?’

‘Well yes, I am you, and what what? Why do you look like you’ve tasted something bad?’

‘In one sentence you said I wouldn’t get married and that some British man would be the death of me quite literally.’ I say, a little miffed.

‘Well, yes.’

There’s a short pause.

‘Well?’ Future finally bursts out, ‘Aren’t you gonna say something?’

‘Like what?’

‘You’re supposed to ask me when you’re going to die and whether you’ll meet the love of your life and then I get to say that I can’t actually let you know that you’ll die at 72 and that the love of your life is your favorite-‘ Future stops abruptly.

‘What?’ I ask, ‘Go on. Favorite what? Movie star would be nice. Or maybe a writer. Yes, I’d like that.’

‘I…I wasn’t even talking about you. Just citing a general example.’

‘Right.’ I say, quirking an eyebrow, ‘You said I wouldn’t get married though. Where did the love of my life come in?’

Future raises his eyebrows, ‘Well, who said you have to get married to your lover? It’s not easy for him either, being a musician and all-‘

‘I get together with my favorite musician?’

‘A guitarist actually, and his name is-why am I telling you this?’ Future asks, slapping his hand over his mouth.

I shrug, but the corners of my mouth twitch. ‘You’re like Hagrid from Harry Potter.’

Future pulls a chair and sits down. ‘Of course I am. Big hearted and a father figure.’

‘Also a blabber mouth,’ I say, with a vicious grin.

Future glares at me.

‘All right, tell me more,’ I say, ‘What about my career?’

I realize I’ve walked into a trap by Future’s smile, ‘Now we’re talking,’ he says. ‘You see…that isn’t going down very well for you.’

‘What -what do you mean?’

Future leans forward, ‘The thing is this. I can change. I’m not definite.’

‘And you also seem to be having an identity crisis.’

Future ignores my quip. ‘I’m serious. You don’t get it, do you?’

‘Get what?’

Future doesn’t reply. In fact, he completely freezes. I stare at him for a bit wondering what the hell is going on.

‘Future? Fyuuutureee?’ I sing his name. No response.

Okay, freaky. But if my future is frozen, is that figurative? Or like, do I cease to exist or something? Now I’m having an identity crisis.

Future still hasn’t said anything, and now I can feel  my pulse pick up. I stand up, wringing my hands.

‘Future! Future!’

No response.

Ugh. Umm, what do I know about emergencies? 911. Stop, drop, and roll. Okay.

I reach out for my phone and have pressed the three numbers, and am in the process of saying, ‘I have an emergency,’ when Future suddenly snaps, ‘no you don’t!’ and grabs the phone from me.

‘Future! you’re okay!’ I say and wrap him in a hug. He shakes me off.

‘Yes, of course I am.’

‘Then what the hell.. what were you doing?’ I ask, genuinely curious.

‘I was trying to build up the moment. For giving you life-changing advice. But you would not cooperate -‘

‘Oh okay,’ I interrupt him, ‘Well then, continue.’

‘-at all. You were supposed to lean in and be entranced, and your pulse should have quickened-‘

‘It did,’ I say, ‘but that’s because I thought you were having an attack or something.’

‘-but you obviously have no dramatic training whatsoever. You just killed that moment-‘

‘Future,’ I roll my eyes, ‘You’re just stalling now. Hehe. It’s funny to say that. Future stalled. Future paused. Future farted.’

He looks affronted, ‘How did you know?’

I grin, ‘Did you let off a …time bomb?’

Future rolls his eyes as though I am hopeless.

‘What I wanted to say was this,’ and Future says, ‘I depend on you.’