When the Ashes Speak

He touched the pyre
with his trembling hand…
Cold and settled -the ashes felt against his palm
was somebody resting in peace?
Didn’t appear like one…
The tale of her ordeal was scribbled all over the bones..
Shivering skin..trembling hands…
Pale of her skin..moisture of her eyes
Pain..rushing through her soul
Reaching her eyes
Frail yet so determined
she put up the fight
A strange animal bearing eight legs
Four sets of eyes
Four sets of hands
Shoved the seeds of their lust
In the deep abyss of her womb.
She protested
They rejected
She cried
They smiled
She howled
They rejoiced
She dealt with the four legged ones
But these were the ones with two.

He touched the ashes
And whispered with bitterness …”animals ..”
A strange whiff of breeze rustled through his ears ..
“I treated them …
they never behaved like these ..
I feared the two legged –
not the four legged ones
They set me ablaze for their blood had turned “COLD”
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Shailaja S Narita

She is a professional photographer. She loves to write short tales and poetry in there languages-Hindi, English and Urdu. She often describes the photographs she shoots with a story hence she has named her stories as kathachitram .Currently she is working on her first book. Shailja loves to travel and also indulge in cooking different cuisines. She feels that words and photographs are her best expression of emotions.

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