Eyes

A Fruit Called Galaxy

Short Story

**Behold!**
[Image by Iris,Helen,silvy from Pixabay]

As if anger – throbbing and tight-, burning hatred and cold fear filled this person’s veins and arteries so that there was no need of the warmth of the blood, red wasn’t red anymore, it was all too dark.

Jassi clung to the darkness, crumpled into it, eyes wide-open that almost attacked every direction mercilessly, the glances were like arrows, everything in darkness, not allowing a ray of light or laughter or love to enter. Jassi was blind, it happened in an accident.

True! Colours were colourful before, but not anymore.

Jassi hated to ask for help, hated the space around, bumping into things now and then, and most of all hated the breeze, why did it try to play, sing, sway or say anything, thought Jassi when nothing moved or flowed within? No, not even the thoughts moved, Jassi killed them, the memories – good/bad – in the very first year after the fatal accident.

Some years passed and an opportunity knocked. A new technology, a new expert, a new experiment could bring back Jassi’s eyesight. To everyone’s surprise, Jassi agreed to undergo another surgery, everyone hugged and cried for Jassi was still alive somewhere inside that stern piece of shell that reciprocated nothing all this while.

Pushing every loved on aside, Jassi spoke – I want to see the galaxy and only the galaxy first!

That was Jassi’s condition, it was accepted, and with some difficulties arrangements were made. Days passed by, it rained, the sun too came out and a rainbow beamed, but did Jassi hear all this? Nothing!

Like never before, Jassi refused to go out of the house or even the finite room. Jassi’s steady un-moving eyes tried to pull, it seemed, the movement of time towards Jassi, not to fight a battle, but to bring it to a stand-still. Jassi had changed and no one knew what fruit this change would bear.

Jassi’s steady, un-moving eyes’ pull worked, so felt the others as the day of the surgery came and passed only too quickly. The doctor said it was a success, but Jassi’s firm and unwavering voice made the doctor sweat and slightly doubt himself. All this for a couple of minutes because Jassi refused to remove the bandages and no one touched the new black goggles; everyone knew how much Jassi abhorred them.

And soon, very soon, so soon that no one remembered what day or time it was when they left for the astronomical observatory, and when they reached the place.

After climbing down into the dark abyss, Jassi got up to climb the stairs to reach the galaxy.

Jassi couldn’t hear anything but felt extremely cold, especially on touching the telescope. Jassi reacted like a little curious child, whispered the others.

The guide guided and made adjustments, but only Jassi’s shell listened, Jassi followed not the guide, but an energy and removed the bandages from the cold eyes, that were shut not so tightly this time. Jassi took a breath and touched the telescope again, feeling the round eyepiece shape through which one could swallow the galaxy.

Jassi gently, almost with love looked through the telescope, one eye open, one closed, then opened both. Jassi looked, looked and looked…

…see for yourself… the galaxy’s arms reaching out, holding Jassi now, breaking the shell with love, showing the dance of colours and light, caressing, bursting with joy, filling the one who witnesses with timelessness and bliss…

Jassi fell on the floor unconscious after so gracefully looking through the telescope that too for so long that the others were by then seated on benches to rest. Jassi woke up in the hospital next, with a high-grade fever and a big grin that turned into laughter.

Tears came out of Jassi’s eyes but the laughter didn’t stop. Jassi’s wet eyes glistened, the eyes looked like jewels, the eyes looked beautiful.

But the doctor couldn’t see it, the doctor was worried, he had failed. Jassi couldn’t see anything from one eye and the other eye tried to see through haziness. There was another way out, doctor promised and sighed that Jassi should not have travelled right after surgery.

Jassi left the hospital the same day and went to eat in a restaurant with the loved ones who were confused, also happy, but unsure.

Jassi has stopped explaining anything to anyone now and has started living. A friend’s friend gave Jassi a simple job that promises nothing grand, yet Jassi loves working there. Jassi walks to the workplace using the stick and a new furry friend, Milo.

Every mirror shows that Jassi is doing good. Walking briskly, so lightly, breathing calmly, Jassi looks like a flight-less bird.

Often hurt, Jassi keeps bumping into things at home and office as if every morning chairs, tables, utensils and pens move on their own to trick Jassi.

Jassi gets up every time, not shying from taking any help from the others.

Milo loves Jassi and Jassi finds Milo to be a funny, happy-go-lucky dog.

What do you want for your birthday, Jassi?

Birthday, hmm, nothing much, will be meeting friends, that’s it. And Milo will be there. Well, we may go stargazing.

**It has all come true!**
[Image by Nicole Rose from Pixabay]

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The Unseen

Posted on January 5, 2025 by Jagriti Rumi Clouds Eyes Flowy Free Of Time Half-Moon Love Mixed Fiction Mountain Top One Movement Painting Stars Sun Rays Uncaptured Wind Winter-Warmth

Mixed Fiction

Photo by Jagriti Rumi
Photo by Jagriti Rumi
Photo by Jagriti Rumi

Today, now, painting a picture with eyes, fresh eyes, a picture uncaptured before, uncaptured still after I finish painting, of course, for I am not a collector, why to collect, why to tie-up or get tied to, when I am living the moment in all its glory… free of any fear or want… free of thoughts… free of time.

Patches of white on the sky-blue ocean, shape-shifting, these clouds, now right above me, now near the giant tree, now hiding the shy half-moon, now pulling the snow-covered mountain top closer and getting pulled towards simultaneously.

The wind playing on its own, swaying to-and-fro, dancing in a whirl, breathing through the trees, blowing a kiss to every broken leaf, falling gently with it on the ground.

The greens, browns, yellows and the spots of red and orange, all soaked in sun rays, full of winter-warmth, tease the cold shadows, shadows that keep whispering and slow dancing following the sun rays in sync – like one flowy movement.

Even though the eyes doze off, the picture paints well – the crimson sky and the crimson clouds, the twilight mix and the twinkling dots, winning over the night with love, falling stars, falling, falling in love.

And now, I open my eyes, afresh, I paint a picture with my eyes, it is all new, it is all unseen.

[Source – Pixabay]
[Source – Pixabay]
[Source – Pixabay]

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One-All!

Posted on March 5, 2023 by Jagriti Rumi A Script Boys Bus Eyes Friends Game Girls Love School Life Short Film

Short Film Script

FADE IN

INT. SCHOOL BUS – DAY

Shweta, an eighth-class student, is chit-chatting with her friend in the school bus; they choose to stand by an empty seat.

The bus’s engine crackles and starts running as the driver takes his seat. The boys standing near the back door are talking loudly. With more and more students boarding the bus, it becomes a happy noisy site.

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP

Shweta is searchingly looking at the back door while pretending to be fully engrossed in the conversation.

CUT TO:

INT. SCHOOL BUS – DAY

A boy enters the school bus from the back door; his friends address him as ‘Raghu’; they immediately start discussing something.

CUT TO:

Shweta’s eyes are now fixed at Raghu; she even stops pretending to listen to what her friend is saying. Funnily, her friend doesn’t notice.

CUT TO:

Raghu, while listening to his chirpy friends, turns to look at Shweta just for a second and then turns back again.

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP

Shweta, with a tinge of anger in her eyes, glares at Raghu. This time her friend also notices it. The bus grunts and sluggishly starts moving.

ZOOM OUT

Raghu turns to see her again and when he does, right at that moment, Shweta quickly switches her place with her confused friend.

Taking Shweta’s side, the bus swayed to take a turn on the road, giving this switch a rhythmic touch.

Shweta, with her back towards Raghu, now can’t see him but is smiling as if she has somehow defeated Raghu in a game.

Raghu, somewhat baffled, stares at Shweta in the background and we hear a voice –

NARRATOR

(Keeping score)

One-all!

FADE OUT

**Happier now, wink-wink!**
**[Source – Pixabay]**

Complement with another short film script – Bowie’s Birthday Party

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That Flower, Dark Coloured

Posted on December 22, 2018 by Jagriti Rumi Amma Cold Night Colours Dark Coloured Dusty Feet Embracing The Darkness Eyes Journey Old Lady That Flower Time Toothless Smile

**Bloomed in darkness.**
**[Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay]**

The dark old lady walks like lightening devouring the night sky, she is swift, she is fast. Her dusty feet, darker than the broken black slippers, know exactly where it is to lead and where it is to stop. Draped in a saree lungi style, her slender figure boasts of agility and strength.

Amma, it is a cold tonight, and she covers her head, her ears with a towel. Does she look funny? Not at all, she looks as beautiful as that flower kept in that book. That flower, dark coloured, tells a story, pressed and noted neatly in that book, stored for a chance meeting.

**Waiting for a chance meeting.**
**[Image by Petra Šolajová from Pixabay]**

Amma what time is it, nine thirty she says and at ten she has to go to a flat and clean the dishes, clear the kitchen counter, set the culinary world in order; often Amma plays music and her dear plates, cups and spoons dance on her tune. Amma beams then like she is beaming now – Amma’s toothless smile.

On her way back home, at night, embracing the darkness Amma moves briskly, but stops in front of a small house and asks Sunita bahin if she can get a water-can and take some fresh water; yes, at Amma’s place you won’t see a water-tap rather there are colourful canisters lined up – yellow, blue, faded red and dirty white.

**Risen in style.**
**[Image by dendoktoor from Pixabay]**

Amma is stylish, her dark self knows what colours to wear – white and orange and green, mixture of all these and add some flowery designs, this completes her look. Do you also wear the colours of the road, the trees, the dark sky Amma? For you look as quiet and great as them.

And your eyes, that glance, killer! Amma your eyes are sharp, your eyes smile – your eyes are familiar with Time and that’s why you don’t mind, you don’t curse it, you don’t cherish it; you know how to live it. Whatever it may be, a raging tempest or a happy carnival or a visit to the temple, you get up the next day and leave for work on time.

I wonder if you have not spoken with everyone until now. Because you are alive, you know Time, you know the society, you know poverty and you smile with your eyes.

Amma cheers to your journey. The dark old lady waved a goodbye.

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Lord Jagannath’s Eyes

Posted on December 6, 2018 by Jagriti Rumi Brahman Harmony Lord Jagannath's Eyes Million Revelations Music Peace Soul Space Time Universe

Spirituality

**Lord Jagannath by Vrindavan Das.**
**[Source – fineartamerica.com]**

One eye says that the play is on.

The wheel of Time moves ceasing for none, winning over oceans, mountains, the sky, the wind and the fire.

People crowd to clench forms and beliefs, together they build and destroy. They wait to gauge for more and what is better.

Look now, how they shine, bright like fireflies, honest to the core; look now, how they lure, how they trick the tricksters, how they slay a man’s soul.

Speak not, for they are at work, cross-legged monks, meditating on what is less; speak not, for you will fail to express how chaotic is the chaos.

Rising high is the music of unity and harmony; falling face down is the corrupt, fake cry of every rigid mind.

Knowing the beginning, waiting for the end, it walks, it lingers, we walk, and we linger.

Tala Pattachitra, Palm Leaf Painting – Odisha’s ancient art form.
[Source – **ethnicpaintings.com**]

Second eye says that it is all absolute bliss.

There is no Space or Time and it binds none; the ultimate end and the ultimate start merges with the absolute existence.

Flowing in a silent music, dancing always, the ripple reaches the centre.

The Brahman breathes; formless, it is of the colour peace.

Lord Jagannath’s eyes are the universe we see and the universe we can’t see. The happy devotee who bows, who worships, who sings, who gazes gets mesmerized by one of the universes, and by Lord Jagannath’s smile.

Our million eyes find a million revelations in Lord Jagannath’s eyes.

**Lord Jagannath, Lord of the Universe.**
**[Source – harekrsna.de]**

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Trance

Posted on September 3, 2018 by Jagriti Rumi Colours Dream Eyes Life Mind Trance

Mixed Fiction

Eyes could see that the mind was dreaming, yet it stayed attuned. The soft, glowing place might be the reason. And colours, crayon colours, water colours flowing smoothly. Glory ruled the place.

Such were the wonderfully true sights that my eyes beamed with pleasure. I then was beyond time and space, happy in the present.

Breathing deeply, quietly, I knew it all and I knew nothing. Bliss!

I woke up and with a quick, strong rush, lively sounds reached me all at once. It was time to live another true dream… it was time to be.

Ah life!

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Incomplete

Posted on February 14, 2018 by Jagriti Rumi Chantal Eyes Her Footsteps Incomplete Joy Music Notebook War Windowpane Wooden Floor

Flash Fiction

**Open the window and smile.**
**[Source – Pixabay]**

Chantal didn’t finish the story. After gazing through the few lines that she had written, her search for a known voice abandoned her.

She sat near the window, still holding her pen, playing with it in a steady rhythm, Chantal thought of something and rushed back to her seat. She wrote in her notebook–

It appears as if the joy within

Knows nothing about the war within

And vice-e-versa

Pausing for a moment, she then closed her notebook with a rough jerk. Chantal got up and walked back towards the window, this time leaving the pen behind, letting it rest on the table.

Her gait reflected her confused, unsure, restless state of mind. Chantal took a deep sigh and then without giving it a thought, wrote the word ‘Incomplete’ on the windowpane; a hazy layer of fog on it allowed her to.

Chantal’s eyes fell on something interesting, something which was moving towards her house, she smiled. Her hand poked her cheek as she pondered over the matter.

Suddenly, she opened the window and shouted, ‘Hi, how are you? It has been so long…’

A muffled voice replied, it made Chantal laugh heartily.

A smiling Chantal then closed the window and ran towards the door, opened it and left. Her footsteps on the wooden floor made a fine music.

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Some-Lovely-Funny-Times

Posted on December 12, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Diya Eyes Far Forever and one second is just the same Lives Some-lovely-funny-times Sometimes Stone Cut Stairs Stories Temple

Observation

**Come along…**
[Image by James Smith from Pixabay]

Alice: How long is forever?

White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.

-Lewis Carrol

I closed my eyes and saw the stone cut stairs, broad and homely, stretching from the bottom of the hill to the top, where the age old, beautifully carved and gloriously coloured temple lives. Yes, the temple lives, breathing in prayers and breathing out peace. A magical quietness stops the spinning mind and grants the warmth of love.

Little feet try to reach the bell, failing, but trying, finally adding to the music flowing in the air a happy ‘tan-tan-tan’. Not understanding the images, the big bold eyes, the lion’s roar, its the splash of colours –golden, red, yellow, green- all sparkling gallantly, that enters within to stay. Round and round the temple, the giant smiling peepal tree, flowers in the wind, red threads tied in every direction, the burnt silenced diya, the rich kohl, and faith in miracles, all together makes the earth reverberate.

I am walking in the temple, eating the prasad and savouring the air, the green leaves and the time. Yes, the time, unknowingly I am moving ahead. What seemed eternal has now elapsed in what I thought were years, were just a few funny seconds. Funny because when I opened my eyes, I didn’t see the stone cut stairs or the old temple…

Following the melodies, the colours, the laughs, baffled at every point, blessed now and then, a bit complacent and a bit more naive, I have reached so far. I cannot foresee, but I know now that sometimes, forever and one second is just the same.

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It Came Quietly To Me

Posted on June 9, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Always Eyes I Am Free It Came Quietly To Me Life Mind Soul Stories Times

Poem

Mountains… grand and free. [Image by Jagriti Rumi]

Cry at times and don’t hold it back,

Take a pause and then look back,

You’ll find a way,

You’ll see the light,

With a calm mind and free eyes

You’ll connect with your soul and realise

That you were, you are and you will

Always be free.

I am happy I am free.

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Two Photographs

Posted on July 16, 2014 by Jagriti Rumi Brightness Click Eyes Flash Fiction Granny's smile Love Say cheese Secret

Flash Fiction

Granny’s smile has lots of secrets and lots of memories in it. She is always smiling, beaming; we can also count her wrinkles rising from her cheeks to her closed eyes; eyes shining with childlike brightness, watery eyes speaking the language of love.

It is early morning and everyone in the house is running hither and thither. Mummy is cooking food and packing the tiffin-boxes. The children are late once again and Daddy is going to give them a lift to the school. But Daddy himself cannot find his tie and the green file and somehow Mummy is managing everything right from the kitchen.

In this daily drama we see Granny sitting in the balcony, she is combing her grand-daughter’s plaits; Granny talks about her late grandmother who use to tie her plaits, to which her little granddaughter giggles up and says, ‘Granny you also had a Granny?’

Mummy shouts from the kitchen as the clock declares it is 8. Everyone is late!

In this relay race, this cute family is asked to stop and pose for a photograph. Daddy says no but the children agree and Mummy is caught between them; while everyone else hesitates only to agree in the end, the granddaughter brings Granny inside and both of them settle comfortably on the sofa for the photograph.

Say Cheese! Click!

Daddy is awkwardly smiling with a bad tie-shirt combination making him look funny; Mummy is smiling nicely and is hiding her apron behind her; the children are looking full of life and sleepy at the same time; the granddaughter is hugging her Granny and saying cheese loudly; Granny is smiling peacefully.

Daddy, Mummy and the children wish Granny a good-bye, she waves back at them from the balcony. They leave in their car and get mixed with the ‘bhroom-honk-honk-bhroom’ crowd on the road.

When Granny is asked about the brightness in her eyes and the secret behind her smile, she laughs musically and says, ‘thank you very much’.

Enjoying the scene from her gallery she seems to be waiting for somebody. She walks slowly to the kitchen like there is no need to hurry, this is how blessed she is, maybe this the reason behind her smile.

When we are about to leave the house, she calls us and asks us to meet her friend. Back in the gallery, Granny is feeding a stale roti to a crow with extreme joy in her eyes.

She indicates us to take her photograph with the crow. She is already saying cheese. Click!