Walking the Dog
Every morning he jogged with his dog to the central park, and she was there watching her dog do the acrobatics. Couple of weeks later, they were in a restaurant. Their dogs sat smugly, looking at their masters for a cue. They both were straight like their masters and did not find any interest in their companion.
Stopping the Time
Don’t remind me that I’m an immigrant worker in Saudi Arabia, that I’m a Hindu from Nepal, that you do not recognize the Holy Bhagavad-Gita, that you wear headscarf, that I don’t eat beef. But yes, I can hear the sound of silence floating on you. I can smell, taste, and touch your existence. Everything is familiar yet distant. I want the time to stop.
Sands and Glitter
The first time we were together, my eyes undulated over your valleys and peaks. Nevertheless, you were inanimate against my existence. You were telling how you’d grown up in Kathmandu; how your mom waited tables in many houses, how your father snatched your mother’s hard earned money; how you, along with your brothers, collected sand from Bagmati River even in the winter. You grew in sands but now you were living in the glitters of show business. However, my ears had gone deaf, I was watching the rich landscape.
Micro Fictions: Nostalgia
Here are couples of micro fictions on the theme of nostalgia. If you don’t know what micro fiction is you can read about micro fiction and flash fiction in this post.
Sweet Sixteen
I was an angry teenager, you were a cute little girl. I was fire, you were water. I had darkness inside, you blazed with aureole. I wish I could travel time and go back to my high school days. Nothing could tame my wildness, but only your presence.
Take a picture
I don’t know what you did with my photo, but I have always cherished this shot. We had a wonderful time in the Himalayas. I wish we could again go for another round of trekking in the Annapurna Base Camp.We had separate lives to live. However, we wanted to remain immortal in a photograph.
Micro Fiction: Alive
He did not go for work, attend phone calls, meet anyone; did not watch TV, listened to music, or read books. He drank, smoked, slept the entire day, walked on the streets at nighttime. He sat on the terrace, shuffled on his room. He did not talk, he did not shout; no wailing, no crying.
The winter passed away. It was spring.
The morning was bright. He walked into the garden. For a while, he watched bees and butterflies fluttering and flitting among the blooming flowers.
I’ve escaped death – he said loud – now I can justify the death of a man whose love is rejected. He was in a sublime state. I’m alive, he cried again.
Micro Fiction: American Dream
You were in Nepal to see the world’s highest mountains, to visit the birthplace of the Buddha. You wanted to have a sojourn in the city that was two thousand years old.
We had a fantastic time in the Annapurna. We rode on elephant’s back and watched tigers and rhinos in the Chitwan National Park. We bungee jumped in a deep gorge. We went for rafting in class five rivers.
You wanted me to accompany you to New York. I flatly denied, even though I wanted you and wanted to go to the United States. You had asked why, I wanted to but I did not say what if you wanted a Nepali servant instead of a boyfriend?
Micro Fiction: The Lady in the Lobby
The man at the hotel’s reception desk did not believe what he just heard. He looked quizzically.
“I want to go to the opera,” I reiterated loudly.
Perhaps everyone in the lobby heard me. They whispered, they laughed.
“No Thai Massage?” the woman behind the counter sneered.
I flinched away, I wanted to avoid their glances. Then I saw her sitting on the sofa in the hotel lobby.
“I can take you to some traditional Thai performances,” she said loudly.
I walked towards her. She tossed the magazine on the desk and stood up. “Let me change,” said and hurried to the lift.
When she came back, I had already set my camera. She smiled Monalisa smile.
After I was done with shooting, we walked off. We did not go for traditional Thai performances.
