Sangeetha Kamath

  Here she was praying for a stranger. A stranger who put his life on the line for her.  **** Stella walked down to the neighborhood cafe where she always met Alan for Friday night dates or a cup of coffee and warm snacks in the late evening when she got off work. She spotted him sitting in the far end towards the wall, scrolling down his phone, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed in a thin line.  It was unusual of him to choose that spot from their usual place by the French windows where they had a view of the quay.  Sensing some unpleasant news coming her way, she walked up to him anxiously. He gave her a wry smile and fumbled with his words. Finally he handed a letter with a sheepish look.  Her worst fears had become her reality. This was certainly bad news. Alan had been distancing himself from her and try as might she couldn't get through to him. This day had finally come when they ended their 5 year old relationship over a letter. No spoken words, just a hand...

  Pages infused with a scent of a bouquet of lavender My serene thoughts tumble into one another as they swiftly gather Giving it tender dimension, depth and sound,I write about the quiet breeze that blows Or the burgeoning black mass of cloud that rolls About raindrops tapping a rhythmic beat on my window Or the trees outside blanketed with frost and snow Spilling sun-drenched dreams on it or the winter's chill About snow capped peaks or the distant green hills Messy handwriting smudged by splotches of tears  Writing is cathartic when I pen down my fears Blank pages waiting to be filled with scribbles, doodles or colors Stories and tales yet to be told  Lyrics of songs, dancing as they unfold Shuffling between magic and reality Sad farewells steep in melancholy Long lost shorelines call with the softest whispers Pressed between the pages are fragile, withered wildflowers Water lily ponds soaked in the moonlight and owls hooting in the silent night  Crimson sunsets ...

  Serene Dippityville town was in full fervour with Halloween fast approaching. Situated on the shores of Pairayte Qowe, the people of this quaint town grew up listening to old wives' tales about how pirate ships had sailed here to bury their gold coins, silver amphoras filled with sparkling gemstones and treasure chests packed with royal jewellery. The unspoken rule in the age-old days was---'Finders Keepers'.  No one had contested it, as no one had found any buried booty to date.  'Finders Keepers' law prevailed even today  to uphold the amusing tradition. *** Sarah was passing through Serene Dippityville from a neighbouring town with her eight-year old son, Luke and staying over at Jodi's--- her late brother's wife over the Halloween weekend. She was on her way after greedily claiming  an inheritance of a heavily studded  emerald necklace. Sarah showed it to Jodi. It was an antique, worth millions! Little Jimmy, the five-year old boy from next door whom ...

  Standing at the crossroads I look to my left and then to my right It's here where the magic happens and my wand sparkles bright It's a bend in the road in the middle of a thicket Surrounded by tall trees and rolling fog which dims the gloaming and indigo twilight  Under the twinkling velvet sky I watch and wait To collect moonbeams in a jar and stardust on a golden plate Path beyond the crossroads show me the bigger picture Patience is the key for dilemma at this juncture There ain't no road signs nor any map I have to chart my own course and work through these gaps It's a one way street, there's no rewind on the track The road to my past is a closed chapter there's no looking back Untrodden paths may hold a fortune great  My luck might turn for the better, go forth I must with a confident gait Destination is a reward for the arduous journey Crossroads are only a pit stop to shed my worry Rejuvenating after spell of introspection  I'm back on my feet with...