Shades of life

These stories are based on real life incidents

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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 3

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Author: Divya Saksena en.wikipedia.org Browning followed the priest’s gaze across the courtyard as a small figure came hurtling across towards them, a little girl of perhaps eight or nine years, pigtails flying behind her. She flung herself at Father Antony who, laughing, fended her off from clutching his legs as she skidded to a stop beside them talking all the while “Father Antony! Here I am! Are we late? It’s not dark yet… Can I get candles now? Mummy .and Papa are just coming. You must wish me! I got presents! Who is this?” “Hold on, Peapod! Let me get a word in! Wish you a very happy birthday!” The child shook hands solemnly with the pastor, eyeing Browning as she did so. Her parents came up, a young Indian couple, both carrying a bucket of water, washcloths and sponges. “Peapod! Stop bothering Father Antony like that! Come on, let’s get to work or it will be dark soon.” The little girl hurried to the grave that Browning had been working on, then stopp...
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Glimpses of Eternity - Part 2

Author: Divya Saksena “ Mad, ” was my annoyed unspoken judgment, “ clearly insane, poor fellow. His people oughtn ’ t to let him wander about, jumping people like this. ” Shrugging my bruised shoulder and wincing at the slight twinge of pain, I too turned away to resume my interrupted perusal of the ancient thermopolium entrance. Slowly, forcing myself to relax, I let my gaze travel over the heat-cracked but still brightly colored paintings of the long-departed owner ’ s family gods on the inside wall of the tabernum , down to the deep, beautifully tiled ovens for the earthen vessels of hot food, waiting so many centuries for the customers that would never come. Were the gods still here, waiting too, for the offerings denied them for so long? Unbidden, an unwelcome picture that I had been resolutely shutting out thrust itself again into my mind. Jerking it away with a toss of my head, I straightened my tee-shirt, readjusted the shoulder-strap of my bag and put my best foot forwar...
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