Beena's Thoughtpourri

  Wrapped in a soft white fleece blanket, placed in a small bamboo basket Just enough to fit her tiny body Lay the fragile, paltry of an angel; with bright blue eyes, soft pink lips Kicking her tiny feet, a soft whimpering was heard Abandoned and disowned, near the Church gate, she lay Was she the blossom of a love that died off? Was she the reverberation of a passionate wrong? Alas now she lay abandoned, eschewed and shunned, By the stomach that endured the crest of pain, to bring her into this world. Anon a pair of gentle hands picked her up, Held the angel close to her breasts, traversing a motherly warmth Gurgling sweet nothings, to the tiny soul that lay unaware. But from somewhere far beyond, was a pair of anxious eyes, Vigilantly keeping a watch and guarding with repentance Yes, Abandon she did – an unforgivable crime An unfathomable pain for a healing womb But yet she did it with curses galore For she was a mother, and to armour her child Abandon she had to, her bundle of j...

My attempt on a short story for a literary group... Topic given "Where Eagles Dare"" The dawn of April 22, 1964 was awakened by the shrieking cry of a baby. ShantaBehn, the village midwife, placed the baby in Bilal Singh’s hands. It’s a baby girl….she said. This was the third daughter in a row for Bilal Singh and his wife Radha.   But unlike the rest of the village, they did not complain as the birth of a child is God-willing and they would do their best to bring their children up with the limited income they earned. Years went by, and the baby girl named Pramila grew up to be a brilliant young teenager. But the luxury of going to the Panchayat school, came to a standstill for Pramila at the age of 10 in class five.  Limited income, detoriating health and two older daughters being married off had burdened Bilal Singh. Now that she turned 13 years, they wanted to find her a suitable groom who would take care of her and so from a very early age, her mother Radha, was foc...