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WE SHARE... Part 7

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Author: Divya Saksena By himself again, Browning waited for the splinters of memory to hit him anew. Reading Tennyson again, m’dear?              My favorite poet, as you well know. Ulysses “Though much is taken, much abides.” We share a common history. We share. He looked down at the now clean inscription, rescued briefly from the onslaught of dust, and bent to touch it once…twice. Then, turning, he made his way towards the gate from which he had entered. The courtyard was now dotted with knots of people, chatting and laughing as they waited for the evening service. Several curious glances and some tentative smiles came towards him as he edged around the enormous plinth that was all that remained of the magnificent monument put up by Metcalfe for his murdered friend Fraser. A polite smile fixed to his face, he let out a breath of relief as he came through the gate into the street and paused to get his bear...
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Glimpses of Eternity - (Teaser) By Divya Saksena

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Eternity is a collection of fragments... of human memories, of human destinies. Do we ever truly and fully understand all we see? Do we know anything fully in entirety? Are the gods still here, waiting too, for the offerings denied them for so long? We are often granted glimpses of things we cannot quite understand. Can we reach out across time and space and touch lives we have never known? Unbidden, an unwelcome picture that Nilofer had been resolutely shutting out thrust itself again into her mind. What did it have to do with the stranger she had just met?
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WE SHARE... Part 2

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Author: Divya Saksena Browning rose to his feet as he smiled back, looking down first at the inscription, now almost clear of dust, then regretfully at his ruined handkerchief. “I’m Father Antony, of St James.” “James Browning.” The priest’s dark eyes darted a quick glance sideways at the gravestone then at his face. “Ah, I see! A relation?” “Mama...I mean, my mother…” en.wikipedia.org “I understand. But this is your first visit? Browning’s lips twisted. “Not really. The first time was when…” “Yes, yes, of course. May I help in any way?” “I’m almost done. It’s much cleaner than I expected. Do you maintain all the graves here? I’m impressed!” “We do what we can. Actually, you should thank your friends who come every year and clean it up.” Browning looked puzzled, as well he might. “My friends?” “Yes, indeed. A lady and her two sons. They’ve been coming every Christmas for quite a few years now. Earlier her husband used to come too, but the last couple of y...
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