Standing amidst hundreds of eyes, the female figure was mercilessly humiliated.

The drape of the feminine figure was undone without a grace.

Even so, no-one heard a scream, not even a sob.

The hell didn’t break loose.

No Krishna appeared;the drape was only of the usual length.

I stood there among the spectators, reeling the Panchali humiliation episode from the epic Mahabharata, in my mind.

True that the fall of the drape in public made me uncomfortable.

Then,  did I do something against it? NO!

Simply because…

I was buying the drape that female mannequin was wearing!

© Mridula 2015




{100 word story in response to Photo prompt }

‘It was a palace! And, after the war, it became a pyramid!’

As a child, grandma’s depiction of our house amazed me.

Curiosity triggered me later.

‘You wouldn’t recognize anything there!’ Grandma warned. But I didn’t quit.

There, the remains proved her right. With each moment, hatred towards the enemies rushed through my veins.

View of a chair with a folded tarpaulin, amidst the stubble.

It was a map. The names of the soldiers, their families and homes were legibly marked.

Some night,some soldier might have sat on that chair, and hoped of joining his family.

My hatred slowly,stiffly melted away.

© Mridula 2014