[This is an experiment with form. The idea is to write a short story that is really short, but which tells a long story as in a haiku. One could describe it as a haiku in prose. I am sure that I haven't been able to reach the goal yet. But I have been revising continuously. Those who commented did so on an earlier version. The word count for the present version is 404.]

Along the bank of the big lake there was a deep, blue forest.

A pair of kingfishers had built its nest in a burrow on the lake shore. It was carefully hidden from the outside world under thick undergrowth.

The birds dazzled with colour. All through the day, they snuggled against one another on the branch of a tree. Whenever they spotted a small fish or insect, one of them would dart out like a flaming arrow, turn luscious somersaults in the air and nosedive into the lake to catch it. They shared their food on the tree and carried back feed for the chicks waiting in the nest. And then at night, they slept in the warm comfort of their nest.

This is how their simple lives contributed to the magnificent symphony of life.

Unfortunately though, life had other plans for them. One day the male of the pair was caught by a group of bird trappers and carried away. His mate sat and watched helplessly as he struggled in vain to escape. She wept, she cried and she pleaded with the captors. But they didn't understand her language.

Left alone to fend for herself, she lost interest in life. Her enthusiasm for fishing departed forever. Soon her brilliant feathers began to fall off and she turned into a ghost of her former self. Her nest was broken. So was her heart, which soon stopped beating. She thanked God for his mercy as she breathed her last. Her once bubbly little home turned into a cold grave for her motionless body.

Shrimati, a lively young girl from the nearby village, bore a striking resemblance to the kingfisher. She decked herself in gorgeous colours and loved her fish. But then whimsical nature widowed her at twenty one, leaving her at the mercy of a conservative Hindu society that made her part company with colours, cropped her hair and forced her to turn vegetarian for life. They demanded tangible proof of her grief, which her broken heart amply supplied by its refusal to stop beating. So, her body remained warm though her nest was as cold as the kingfisher's grave. And every night, she was treated to whining voices at her window, dripping with lust.

She prayed to God with the last bit of strength she had to spare her the agony of living. Unlike the kingfisher's God though, Shrimati's God was hard of hearing.

Keyword: kingfisher fish shrimati god

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Comments (5)

Posted by chaabuk 2008-08-09 06:45:35 .... This ine reads like a children's tale. The bird episode was as heart-wrenching as this girl. Her husband should have called her lady fisher or queenfisher. These widow rituals are pretty cruel. The story is too short. Is there more to come + Report this comment
Posted by The 13th 2008-08-09 07:03:56 .... You could of just stuck with the kingfisher tale and this still would of been good. Nice sad story.Enjoyed it. The tale of Shrimati was a sad poetic tale.Good job. + Report this comment
Posted by Ashutosh 2008-08-09 10:37:24 Nice Nice, short story. Though even I felt that more needs to be said. I know, the same happens with me too. Nice storytelling. Beautiful descriptions but still leaves one wanting some more. Some more addition is needed to do justice to the storyline. I liked the writing and the sincere and humane feeling the story exhibited. + Report this comment
Posted by Terry Collett 2008-08-09 12:48:41 .... I thought it a well written story. Maybe for a younger audience, but good. + Report this comment
Posted by Ashutosh 2008-10-24 00:10:17 .... Read it once again DD. Found it great and very poetic. In very few words, you've captured a lot. Hope to see more such pieces from you. + Report this comment

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