The Cherry Blossom

story picture 3

 

PICTURE COURTESYShuvojit Moulik   

[N.B.  This story has been inspired by this particular picture]

I walked towards the cherry blossom tree as the flowers giggled hiding the soft green of the leaves. The breeze of the spring was already flirting with the branches, now full of baby pink cherry blossoms. This particular tree, I have always loved, like my twin sister; I even know her age. She is twenty-five, just like me. I looked at the smiling cherry blossoms as they winked back at me, saying, ‘We told you so!!’ I nodded my head in affirmation, my eyes speaking on my behalf. Continue reading

REFLECTION

story picture 2

 

 PICTURE COURTESY : Shuvojit Moulik   

[ N.B.  This story has been inspired by this particular picture.]
She stooped down and grabbed black railing, her eyes falling on the water as the reflection of the beautiful city of Copenhagen seemed to jibe at her own affliction.  She gasped for breath, cursing herself for being so adamant. Rusha envisaged an ambulance, and doctors in their masked countenances; the smell of fluids stored within the injections shrieked her. Left alone in this foreign land, the zigzag pattern of the apparently upside-down buildings seemed to mock at her own heart beat, still beating, and her world, wrecked by disease which fed upon her putrid body. Continue reading

WOVEN IN COLORS

picture story 1

 

 (Picture Courtesy : Shuvojit Moulik   

[ N.B. This story has been inspired by this particular picture.]

The refulgent yellow was playing tic-tac-toe with the blushing scarlet before the incandescent orange joined them. They were engaged in a merry game, their ebullience finding its presence in overshadowing the city’s otherwise colourful buildings, now completely submerged in their black shadow. Strands of clouds floated like soft fossils of memories, as the playful colours reeked a nostalgia which took her back to her past where she had worn the same yellow, blushing in the red of her gaye holud. Continue reading