Fable
You up there!
Let’s not deluge ourselves with further queries Yes, we were not really there! Lurking nowhere—yet all about, you were “good godly,” everywhere…O Gawd! And I, for one, at every moment, a blundering dunce, appearing frolicsome, and as though, yearning processions and like a motley fool, hogging airs! Towards that —wherever, whenever —somewhere out there, we were all there… And look! That in the distance .. is that a wreck ?! O with that haughty breadth, (not breathe 🧘♀️ ) coming off as dilly-dallying there ! Lo! Behold! Much before any secret silence loathes up in a wordless despair… As I see it … Yes, yes we dared ! But… No better nor worse, our destinies scarcely knew which way to turn…but we simply dared, as though —self deployed —like daredevils, ascending steps, fully prepared! Therein “GOM”became the familiar “NOM” ; a stillness, quite assuredly, registering senses and as an end in itself, we were fully compared … But, from where it c’d be viewed as —heartily there —we re-examined and tallied realizations —full on —as if, with our car 🚘 on rapid gears.. Through and through , as another self , and also as a duplicate of every one out there —from this home to that house , in the bedroom, at the table and almost 😅 like hell under bones 🦴 we were there, and as though, the shadowed spirit of that heavenly trinity watched us as we truly shared … And to that, which seems endless, we now owe ourselves —that— free flowing wisdom which comes by as chaste, and passes us as well married in full flare ! Then again , of course, with the popular odium —coming face to face, until the fawn faced , materialistic priest calls it as —all good , fully repaired… We shall be here, there, everywhere ! Who can say we aren’t really there … And look 👀 Where is I so vacant, when me for you and you for me —pass—to be loved in this radiantly brilliant OPEN air…. Evermore so, again —look! In our quest for that higher union we have always prayed 🙏 like all those desert 🏜️ 🌵 fathers who were hauntingly placed everywhere Yes , for better or worse … For all I know now, and forever I shall thusly declare— you and I are truly rare, beyond compare! Dear Reader, That ☝️ was a unconventional rhetoric as I thought out a versification on the topic : You were not really there . Okay ?! And now… here’s a narrative keeping in mind the same topic : Are we there yet?! >>>Mind it: The following is a dream sequence . A concoction of mind. Some may find it mind boggling ! Beware! It all happened in a dream! From that moment I knew I was to never look back. A lonely course, I was aware. As an inkling sown, I knew it was a given. Could it be a semblance of a nightmare, looming over ordinary grounds of that “dreamy,” despair?! Honestly, I knew not —coz I wasn’t totally there! With that said, here’s an analogy to consider subliminally which my conscious mind held a while, considering the hidden meaning in which the subject of my presence c’d be treated with varied degrees of both presence and absence in that dream . After all, who am I ….as I tread this philosophical juggle of life. Partying with prejudice I can’t call myself an enigma or … when “air” is best suited to the provincial flare of giving meaning to self via the lens of higher self : a spirit …is it?! But, who am I to bear this or that ?! While all that ☝️— those thoughts marinated through the fabric of my subliminal thoughts 💭 Something echoed back in a dream : therein lay an understanding to honor those outcomes to which we justify means and thereby associate with as in real, real meaning. That kind of heartlessness would never suit any other worldly affair. Perhaps that dream didn’t know about any reverse gear. In its most evocative —it was replete with repetitive patterns like pulling out, dipping in , with left and right turns ( stunts,) to rummage over diligent thoughts to get nowhere. From the opening, during which, he rose dreamily from nowhere , and yet it all felt like a no man’s land. He was much like a night watchman, all of a sudden, appearing at my front porch.He had little to do except for shooting imaginary arrows in the dark. Against that backdrop, I seemed to be lurking amidst the dungeon walls of a dilapidated church trying to escape somewhere. ( Freud , hold your reigns! You may be wrong with interpretations.) Next thing , I notice: The sudden rattling of the earth underneath and somebody simply walking up and pulling me out of the rubble. “There y’are, “ he said victoriously. “I knew you were in there somewhere.” Quite right, very well thank you for saving me, I said firmly, un repaired nor paired The whole spectacle was beyond the 7th dimensional plane and it had little to do with the real world happenings of this earthly existence. I was reciting the inventions of my own mind through that sleazy plot. It was a sort of a dreary dream. But with thoughts slung not particularly as nonsense, next moment— I found myself seated in a taxi cab, promising to take me away from that catastrophic sight. “Well we can get away fast now,” the cab driver said. “Yes, don’t hold up anymore. There’s no reason to delay anymore as the ground underneath is cracking. Hurry, please“ I said. “Sure, you won’t regret,” he said. As far as I could see, there was no reason why we wouldn’t set off. The cab 🚕 driver must have held the same thoughts. I thought to myself. After all, reflecting such feels , I was expecting him to be as frantic as me in his approach. But he waited there to witness the events unfolding without fleeing the situation. Instead, I found him lighting a cigarette and coolly enquiring —“where is the match? I seem to left it in the porch somewhere. “ “O ,c’mon, hurry, hurry . Is this the time to light up a cigarette,” I complained gravely. “I am no good without smokes,” the driver hailed. “We could get away now if you think we should but looks like I have to anyways get out again,” the cabby blurted in anguish. I heard the roar of the Armageddon. Within earshot, on hand to see was a crippled horse 🐴 and an axe flying towards me. I suppose the environs in the dreamscape were looming towards the end of times and here I was seated beside the cab driver who was delaying our exit from such a horrific scene. And then, guised as some irresistible combination of a haywire and hauntingly silly moment, the cab driver blankly gazed and resignedly said: “ Looks like I have forgotten the car keys. I have to get out again.” “You don’t seem to be doing anything other than getting in and out of this car, time and again. “ I blurted uneasily. Understandingly the cab driver rushed out and within moments appeared back in the front seat. This time in all thoughtfulness he had brought the keys almost out of thin air. He pushed the keys into the ignition switch and pressed the accelerator. The car wobbled and took to the road with a series of starts and stops. Then all of a sudden , like a jet engine propelled, yet moving nowhere, we moved in a zig-zag pattern with the speedometer indicating .05 miles per hour speed. Then again, a series of jerks added to that absurd mess. A snail 🐌 appeared out of nowhere as a no distance speed-mate. He flung a look at me and ran away at nautical pace. And then, in an —even more ridiculous moment, we moved off along unknown paths in the reverse gear. Just out that way, we had paced out one yard. “Do you think you are learning to drive the car for the first time,” I queried harshly. To that , the cabby replied with a harsh voice: “ I thought you don’t like to move fast. So I decided to take it easy. Have faith. You shall arrive soon.”he said “So you are saying there’s nothing wrong with your driving , “ I retorted back at him in a haste. “Well , you’ll be there soon. Look, there’s your house 🏡, behind that tree , “ said the taxi driver. “ Perfectly logical for someone to hire a taxi for a journey—“he further declared And in an odd overturn of events, the fumbling cabby dropped me at the front door of a home and passed away out of sight. We had already been through so much together. “Do I owe you anything,” I asked him generously “O! I was just returning a big favor—I owe you big time,” said the cab driver. What appeared as a play of form was actually happening as an act in a dream, and I realized, I was actually awakened by it in its fullest grace. A deeper impulse of soul has searched for truths and it was all over taking me out there —somewhere —in my thoughts and dreams, beyond compare. But , it seemed , I had finally arrived! The End ! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, July 6th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 7 months ago in Fiction
The Cold Truth
It was a freezing morning in the village of Barikot, where winter wrapped everything in silence. The fields lay stiff with frost, and a thick fog clung to the narrow paths that twisted between mud-brick houses. Gul Nawaz, a middle-aged farmer known for his quiet nature and steady hands, was walking toward the main road to find someone in town who could repair his broken water pump. As he passed the canal on the edge of his farmland, something unusual caught his eye. There, lying half-frozen in the brittle grass, was a snake — motionless, its dull skin blending with the earth. Most villagers would have taken a stick to it or walked away without a second glance. But Gul didn’t move. He crouched down, looked closely, and saw that the snake was still breathing, barely.
By Musawir Shah7 months ago in Fiction
The Last Minute A Story of Dying . Content Warning.
The noise was the first to leave him. He could see the lips of his daughter, feel the tremble of her hand on his, but could no longer hear her. Not the soft whisper of her voice. Not the garbled sob in her throat. Not the quiet beep of the machines. As if life itself had lowered the level, as if the world was backing away quietly, waiting to release.
By Dr Haider ali shamsher7 months ago in Fiction
"Leave The Light On"
He's been waiting at his post for three hours. The sun has now set. Fully loaded bins line the street. Garbage day tomorrow. Loose papers from those who overfill their stack adorn the road. A busted fence. Laundry on the line in the front yard. Two dogs barking on the return. One by one, cigarettes lit and adorn the ashtray. Sitting. Waiting. A series of families out walking their dogs. A young couple, woman clearly pregnant, stop to take selfies. The sun sets. The street goes quiet. A third and final redbull. The key turns, an engine rattles. It's time to make a statement. It's time to get this pricks head out of the dirt.
By Scott Cathery7 months ago in Fiction
The Cartographer
Amelia’s life was a meticulously organized map, every street, every landmark, precisely placed. As a cartographer, she thrived on order, on the certainty of lines and labels. Yet, lately, her own internal map felt increasingly blank, particularly the regions marked "childhood" and "family." A vague, persistent ache resided where memories should have been, a blank space she couldn't fill. Her grandmother, the last living link to her past, had recently passed, leaving behind a house filled with echoes and a single, enigmatic inheritance: a worn leather-bound journal.
By Momin Shah7 months ago in Fiction
The Canvas
Elara lived in a city that hummed with a thousand unspoken dreams. Her own dream, however, felt increasingly muted, confined to the cramped corners of her studio apartment. Paintbrushes lay scattered like fallen soldiers, and canvases stared back, stubbornly blank. She was an artist, or at least, she used to be. Now, she mostly painted the bills due in her mind.
By Momin Shah7 months ago in Fiction






