waiting

I sat amidst the wailing cicadas, the green overpowering my senses. There was no other sound, the only shift in the view was the occasional cloud rolling down the hill. I did not know how long I had been there… I had forgotten how I had reached.

My only memory was of the people – smiling and waving. They had seemed happy, even though death and destruction surrounded them. Burnt homes and smoking bodies – and yet, they seemed happy. I could not remember sounds. My memories were silent.

re…again

Memorari…to bring to mind

How does one remember a fading picture?

The cicadas paused… waiting.

 

 

Advertisements

About victoranish

A theatre worker living in Bangalore.
This entry was posted in Narratives and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s