The Imperfect Mystery — Me

imperfect mystery

A little piece to the Imperfect Mystery of my life.

He was a mystery, or maybe he just wanted to be one.
In the world full of chimeric perfection, he was nowhere. He was flawed, so flawed that he’d be hanged if imperfection was a felony.
Of course, he wasn’t that lucky.

Growing up as a mediocre and being reminded about it every morning in the hallways of his school, he knew he didn’t belong there. Amidst the fake smiles, fake promises and real envy.
All he wished for, back then, was an escape.
An escape from the misery, from the embarrassment of being himself and from the very own reality he lived in.
Nevertheless, there was one thing he liked about being the way he was— his subconscious. The part of his intellect that showed to him the sacred and the happy worlds of imagination. A world where he was perfect. Perfect not because he had perfectly aligned teeth and a fashionable dressing sense but because his world’s definition of perfect was being real.

Diplomacy, flattery, envy and jealousy were mere letters of the alphabet put together which had no meaning. Love, appreciation and happiness was all that mattered, here.
There was one major problem, however. It all existed in his mind. A place which only he could access, a world which no one else would knew about.
Alas, he was bound be mediocre in the real world and a perfect piece in the non-real world.

Then what changed him? What made him the person who he is now? A person with a smile always glued to his face and the illumination of burning stars in his eyes.

The answer is simple. The pen and paper, the keyboard and screen, the alphabet and ink, the imagination and curiosity, the words and the stories they tell, the rhymes and the songs they create. It was the power of his mind. The power of his will. Moreover, it was the power of writing. His greatest feat. His deepest rumination.

Is he perfect now? If you wonder, then you should know he’s not. He’s still the same mediocre man in the real world but he’s changing the real world. Contributing with others to make the real world a non-real utopia.

So maybe he is perfect, after all or maybe he just wants to be.


©The Honest Fabler Ashutosh Gursale
©Image source- Myself!

Illuminating darkness.

Darkness

Robert’s mind wandered around his deadline, even while he rested his head on the glass window. He had to complete a week’s work in just one night. And the train was an hour away from home. If he had a list of things he hated, it’ll only be 4 words long. 

  1. Rescheduled Deadlines.
  2. Late trains.

“Dear, what’s the next station?” The woman next to him gave a mild shock. It wasn’t everyday that the commuters talked to each other and she didn’t seem like a daily commuter, either.

Robert had a look outside the glass pane and turned to her, “Wolfshire. Where do you have to get down?”

“Wolfshire.” She smiled sheepishly and fetched dark glasses from her purse and placed them neatly over her nose. “Guess I should get going.” She stood up but the train’s jerk pushed her back down.

“What happened?” Her expressions confused, just like Robert’s.

“Think the train doesn’t want you to go, just yet.” He forced a happy tone, suppressing the irritation underneath. “However, the electric supply is gone.”

“Oh dear, that’s trouble for you. Ironically, my internal lights have gone off long ago.” Her words left a trail. “Could you do me a little favor and tell me what’s going outside?”

Robert was already tired after a long day at work, but he didn’t feel like it was her fault, so he shrugged and looked around.

“​It’s almost dusk. The sky has turned plump orange and the clouds look like waves coming from the ocean.” Robert paused to check if she’s listening and continued.

Illumination

There is no residential area nearby but I can see a few people. There’s a girl, learning to skate down the tiny hill with her father. Her father is holding on to her waist so she doesn’t fall but oh- wow- he isn’t holding her anymore and she can skate on her own!” Robert smiled to himself, reminiscing his days as a child.

“A few meters away, there are two men walking with arms around each other, enjoying the Autumn’s breeze having the time of their lives. I think they’ve heard something now, they’re running towards the sound. I can’t see what’s happening, they’re possibly below the street level.” He said, trying to stand and have a good look.

“Ten to twenty meters above them, there’s a herd of parrots. They’re too tiny as they’re kissing the sky but I’m sure they are parrots because back in my hometown’s tiny forest, we had a their homes.”

“The two men and the girl who was skating with her father were the only ones on that street but now there’s a small mob gathering around something. They’re all rushing in together, happy faces everywhere.” Robert’s mind isn’t in the train, anymore, it’s with the people on the road, pushing each other to get a glance of the source of the cute noise.

“Ah, now I see it. It’s a box of puppies, and there’s another! So, there are two box of cute stray puppies who’ll be apparently finding themselves a home today.” He sat back and thought how happy puppies make him and how nostalgic the parrots are. “We’re going home, too. The train has started, ma’am.”

But the ma’am had already vanished from her seat, he leaned from his seat to check if she was anywhere in the passage but he failed to spot her. Smiling to himself he silently thanked her and dozed off to a peaceful sleep.


©The Honest Fabler – Ashutosh Gursale

©Image source- Google Images

The Secret Sister of Awan Alee – Part VI

The Secret Sister of Awan Alee

Previous parts:

Author’s Note (Password: sister)

I

II

III

IV

V


11 January 2017

Dear Scarlett,

Punim hangs out with us! Hey di, we’re sort of a group now. Azure, Naveen, Punim, her friend Snehlata and myself. Since we all stay in hostel, it makes sense to hang out together. Punim is such a sweetheart! I find myself liking her more and more every day. She’s so slender yet so strong. She has a freaky black belt! Yesterday after dinner, she joined me on my night walk. We went to the cross section where the highways meet, and oh, I just couldn’t stop talking.

We’ve so much in common, too! Even her hometown is under the threat of war. The vintage Indo-Pak war for including Kashmir in their reign. *sighs* When will these high powers learn that war means destruction of both the sides participating in it? Or do they simply deny the truth? The working of the world is such complicated! I wish there was a cheat code to understand it. Now, I need to go. Our new semester is a little tough. I’ll write to you when I’ll be free. Good night. See ya soon.

26 May 2017

Dear Scarlett,

Oh my lovely lady I missed you a lot! Hey sister, it’s been so long since we talked. I missed you TONS! The exams are finally over. I’m feeling a sense of relief. It was such a crazy time. All the assignments and the projects. Uff. You’d be glad to know, Punim and I are now great friends. Remember how I said we’ve many things in common? Apparently it led us somewhere and now she’s like my kindred soul! I even told her how I felt about her initially, and the best thing that happened was that she confessed to me that even she had a crush on me!

When I’m with her, I’m completely a different person. I’m myself. It’s like she understands the way I function. She never judges me, that’s to top it all. And she’s wayyyyy too cool (I know I’m saying this a trillionth time) When we both are alone, we look out for cute girls and guys, too. But in the end we end up with each other, oh the irony. XD I’m glad to have a girl bestfriend. Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s time to return home to our lovely parents! See ya soon.

24 December 2017

Dear Scarlett,

Hush, be quiet it’s about time!

Hey sisso, I just came back to our room, its 12:18 a.m. right now. I went to meet Punim, it’s her birthday today. When I started writing to you, I was taking you with me and that was 19 minutes earlier. So what happened in the meantime was: I took you with me, Punim and I had decided that we will share a secret to each other which we haven’t told anyone in the whole world. So, as expected I took you with me. I told her about you (she’s the first one to know about you) She is such an understanding human being. She didn’t even laugh at me, instead she found it cute.

I’m honored! And about her secret it was something so cute I want to keep it to myself. Sorry. I gifted her a brooch, she loved it! It was nothing compared to what she gifted me. She made a sketch of mine on my birthday and obviously I have it framed on my wall. I am going to sleep! This New Year’s Eve is going to be the first anniversary of our friendship so we’re planning to celebrate it in a grand way! Hope so it works out. See ya soon.
-Awan Alee


©The Honest Fabler
©Cover credits- Google Images

The Secret Sister of Awan Alee – Part V

The Secret Sister of Awan Alee

Previous parts:

Author’s Note (Password: sister)

I

II

III

IV


 

27 December 2016

Dear Scarlett,

Hey di! Exams are over. So trust me when I say, I rocked ’em. I’m pretty sure I’ll at least get a 7.9 or 8! Now let’s cut the crap and get to business. evil laugh the fresher’s party is happening and on the best day it could happen! It’s happening on the New Years’ Eve. Well to be honest it is the idea of the students living in hostel even during the holidays, and it’s limited to hostel students. But everyone is invited. evil laugh interrupted by coughing this is so confusing when I try to explain. Now, I’m gonna tell you a secret.

Today, in the office of our warden I saw the cutest girl in the whole world. If I’m right (by any miracle) then she’s joining our hostel. If I see her in our hostel again I’m going to die! I just stood  in the middle of the hallway staring at her, it was Naveen who realized that I’m not walking beside them after reaching a few steps ahead. I was so embarrassed! It was worth it, though. I guess Naveen and Azure are back. Bye, good night.

See ya soon.

1st January 2017

Dear Scarlett,

“O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?” No, I’m not much a fan of Shakespeare but that’s how I’m feeling right now! Azure is the one I’m referring to. What happened wa— I saw that sonsofbitch talking to the cutest girl(whose name is Punim) I’m not that childish to get mad at him only cause he talked to her, but he even hugged her -_- I gotta talk to him. I’ll be back soon. Bye. Its 2 a.m.

Wow-ow I’m so stupid! Punim is in Instrumentation department and she joined our hostel since her previous hosts of paying guest system had to move out of the city. Her room is right above ours. And oh, Punim is Azure’s family friend. (Now, how does a guy from Iraq have a family friend from Kashmir, I’ve no idea) He introduced us to her, and I discovered that she not only looks cute but has a cheerful personality, too. Btw she appreciated my English accent. Said she couldn’t even guess that I’m not a native English speaker. Right there I felt my cheeks turn red. I apologized Azure for misinterpreting the situation and judging him and now he knows that I’ve a crush on her. Fuck my life, right? Have a good day. It’s just 1 p.m. See ya soon.
-Awan Alee


Post Script:

As always, to make up for the delay, I’ll post the next 4 parts between today and tomorrow. Have a great day, everyone!

©The Honest Fabler
©Cover credits- Google Images

Superdad – Hero without cape!

SuperDad

A day for our favorite superhero,
Our first love.
A day to celebrate, to cherish, to tell them how lucky we are to have them.
But why do it only once?
Today, I’ve an answer.
It’s like the way we wait for Christmas, like the happiness they receive on hold us in their hands after waiting for 9 months.
It’s a festival for every Superdad.
For us show our pride & for them, to be flaunted.
A very happy Father’s Day to every mentor.❤️


©The Honest FablerAshutosh Gursale
©Image source – Google Images

Pink – The Chosen Envelope

Pink- The Chosen Envelope

The Chosen Envelope

As the Pink envelope lay on the table, tasting the dust with her family of envelopes closely kept together, she couldn’t help but wonder when her time would come. It had been ages since Pink’s elder brother was chosen to hold a letter within him and be delivered to their owner’s lover.
The owner— Pink recalls— was Lilly, a girl who bought her family from a gift shop. Lilly always decorated her envelopes with sparkles and ribbons and made cute heart symbols on them. That’s how Pink knew that Lilly sent them to her lover. ‘Has she got herself new envelopes?’ The mere thought sent a shiver down Pink’s folds. Don’t be paranoid, she sighed.
‘There comes Lilly! Finally my time has come.’ She rejoiced on seeing Lilly slide the chair of her writing table.
‘Congratulations Pink! It’s your day!’ Whispered her sister who hid below her.
Lilly adjusted her glasses which had turned hazy due to some reasons. It was the first time that Pink witnessed Lilly crying while writing a letter. The ink made wet pits in various spots wherever her tears landed on the page. Pink, on the other hand, forgot everything about the joy of becoming the chosen one. Pink was worried for Lilly.
Once Lilly was done pouring her heart out in the letter, she folded it neatly and picked up Pink. She opened Pink’s flap and placed the letter inside, neatly gluing it together. Today, there were no ribbons nor any sparkling glitter but only a 3 line address. As Lilly carried Pink to the mailbox, Pink couldn’t help but feel pity towards her, ‘What went wrong with my dear?’

The next thing she felt, however, was absolutely nothing. Lilly clutched her tight as she descended the stairs but as she was about to slide Pink in the mailbox, she saw her ex-boyfriend walking hand in hand with his new girl & her whole world came trembling down on the petty letter in her hand that had his address on it.


Post Script:

Last month, I wrote this short story as a submission to a huge writing firm but unfortunately there hasn’t been a reply yet. (I’m sure they’ve tons of better submissions.) Nevertheless, thanks to them for the lovely muse and to make me think what goes in the mind of an envelope. One of my personal favorite tales!
And did you know while I was gone, all the post were posted by a great writer friend of mine: Pooja Mukherjee. Find all her posts here: Author
Have a happy weekend!


©The Honest Fabler
©Image Credits- Google Images

Inner Joy (A Happy Heart)

“Happy” is just a word. It doesn’t mean anything more than a random jumble of letters that I decide makes up a word. Happiness is a rush. It is also a slow burn. It comes all at once but it also builds up like a plotline with intense suspense. Everything builds up to one apex.

It can’t be something superficial, or something that only lasts for a day or two. It’s something that affects your entire life. It lasts. It burns inside of you and it doesn’t go out. That is happiness.

Happiness is a warm feeling. When we are happy we feel a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives. The journey to happiness is not achieving success or having enough things, it is not productivity or affirmation from others. The road to happiness is a life of purpose where our desires extend far beyond meeting our own needs and into the rich world of service to others.

How we feel about ourselves, the joy we get from living, ultimately depends directly on how the mind filters and interprets everyday experiences. Whether we are happy depends on inner harmony not on the controls we are able to exert over the great forces of the universe.

“The real happiness is to enjoy the scenery when on a detour.”

“Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray; when it strikes on a kindred heart, like the converged light on a mirror, it reflects itself with redoubled brightness. It is not perfected till it is shared.’’


©The Honest Fabler – Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

A Mother’s Wisdom

An hour past midnight.

The cold winter winds blew in through the open window & I tightened my grip on the blanket.

My room’s door was shut, the phone placed on my ear turned static. I couldn’t believe the words I just listened to.
“It’s over. I can’t be with you.”

The sentence screamed in my mind and I realized it isn’t a dream. A sudden gasp left my mouth followed by loud sobbing. I knew everyone’s asleep so I muffled my mouth in the blanket.
10 minutes. 15… 20… 30… An hour… Two? Or more? I don’t remember how & when I fell asleep. 

A heavenly morning.

All I remember is the next day my room’s door was ajar, the sunlight warming my cold face and illuminating the room with a shade of white. Everything else stood as still as it was last night, only more brighter than ever.

I wondered if I were dreaming it.
“Good morning, Alfred.” Ah, no. Not a dream. I heived a sigh as my mother entered the room.
“Good-” I choked as I witnessed my mother levitate like a feather, her feet didn’t touch the pale ground.
A halo floated over her head.
An angel.
“Shh. Calm down, Al.”
“Am I-?”
“No, you’re not dreaming. Here, I brought you nectar, it’ll ease your wounds.”
“I have no wounds.” A little pound in my heart reminded me its state. “Except for my broken heart.”
“It is for those broken pieces.” Her smile radiated happiness. Though an angel, she’s still my naïve, caring mother. I suppressed a laugh and took the silver glass.

As I touched the liquid with my tongue, I recoiled. It’s bitterness was unbearable and everything twisted and turned like a hurricane.

A bright day.

“Easy there. Sit straight, Al.” It was my mother, again. Now in her human form. I gulped down the nectar, ignoring it’s taste and I felt better.
My body, which couldn’t stop shivering, now seemed to have finally got a grip & calmed down.
“You’ll feel better.” My humanly mother, said.
“Was it a dream?”
“I reckon you were dreaming, heard you talking in sleep. Last night, you left the window open and when I entered your room, you were burning hot with fever. Tried keeping the temperature down with a wet cloth but I think my grandma’s magic soup still works the best.” Her laugh was melodic. “I overheard you last night, sorry. But it’s going to be alright, you know.”
I gave her a puzzled look, realizing only her angelic part was a dream. The tragic call was a reality.

“If people in your life want to stay, they will stay even if they have a million reasons not to. But when they don’t want to, they’ll make reasons of their own. Don’t feel bad for what happened, Al. You couldn’t change her decision. You loved her, truly, I know. Yet you are far too young to keep mourning. As you’ll grow, people will take leave from your life at every nodes. They’ll change their paths and bid you farewell. And when they do, you can’t hold on to them or you’ll lose your own balance. Get well soon, honey. I’m always there for you, a door away.”

“Mom” I called her as she stood up to leave. “Happy mother’s day.”


Post Script:

First of all, I’d love to wish a very very Happy Mother’s Day to every angel. There’s something truly heavenly about them which is why they need to respected & loved & reminded of it, everyday. :’)

Second of all, I’d like to apologize for not posting often these days. Also, The Secret Sister of Awan Alee, is at hold due to my examinations. But I promise once the exams are done I’ll be back with daily posts as usual & complete the series!

©The Honest Fabler

©Image Source – Google Images

I’m blue, I’m beautiful!

Is that what we wake up to every day?

From time immemorial, appearance has been foremost in humans’ mind. Humans are judged by their physical appearance. Thus, it is not surprising to witness mankind, especially women from all walks of life desperately try any means possible to achieve the perfect beauty.

However, beauty provides a perceptual experience of pleasure and happiness. It has no relation to features of our face or body, but rather character traits and qualities.

Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly lies to the bone.

Beauty dies and fades away, but ugly holds its own! Create and cultivate inner beauty that never fades away but grows and matures with time!
Especially women in our society need to realize this fact and change our perception of the way we see beauty. What should be regarded as requisite in someone? It could be their pleasant character traits, or some might name it as the word soul.

People with inner beauty are those that love to make peace with everyone, take care of fellow beings and try to follow the path of justice and the light of wisdom.

As beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, thus it will not be defined or appraised as easily. We always have to be a first-rate version of ourself. Once an Italian painter said,

The summation of the parts working together in such a way that nothing needs to be added, taken away or altered, and that’s you.

You are beautiful.


©The Honest Fabler – Pooja Mukherjee

©Image source- Google Images

13 Reasons Why.

There was a time when she was ashamed.

Ashamed to step out of the door.

To be judged by those eyes.

To be looked at, by those who owned the eyes.

She didn’t hate the dresses her mom chose for her, she hated wearing her own skin.

She didn’t hate being called a “slut” or a “whiny bitch”, she hated her own name.

Yet she survived.

She survived the mess her life had become, she got back up everytime she was let down.

She fought her own demons and untangled her tangled strings.

But for how long?

For how long would a heart crave for love?

For how long would a heart crave for someone to see through the window amidst the walls, built by itself?

How long….?

Post Script:

The story of Hannah Baker, live and in stereo, though a fiction, it’s the darkest and the purest one I’ve ever read/seen. It may not be your usual TV series, but it’s one that would make you re-think your world.

It’s one story that would re-shape your life.
It’s one, that would break you to millions of pieces, but only so that you’ll be prepared.
Prepared– so you know what you’ve to do when you’ve got your 13 reasons to die.


©The Honest Fabler

©Cover credits- Google Images