Friday 15 June 2012

Flash Fiction 2012 Longlist, Divya Bhatia

The End

Death, is traditionally depicted to evoke horror. The Grim Reaper in his dark faceless hood. Or closer home Yama seated on a buffalo wielding the axe.

But in life, death does not always take such horrifying forms. Its shape can range from the mundane glass of sugarcane juice to the very thrilling scuba diving holiday.

On the morning of  October 26 and thenceforth everyday for the mosquitoes at A 202 Defence Colony, Death came in most heart warming form of little Raghav.

At the age of three years he had uncovered a great truth. The mosquitoes that troubled ma at night, the beings that left ugly red marks all over her Sandalwood soap scented skin, the creatures that attacked her just when she was succumbing to sweet sleep, were at their most vulnerable in the early hours of the morning. As the sunlight trickled in through the wire mesh windows the mosquitoes were drawn to it like moth to flame.  That’s when Raghav innocently crept in. Trapped the creatures between the mesh and his podgy hands. And squeezed them against the mesh. A few moments later, there would be a deep imprint of the mesh on his palms. And somewhere between the criss-crossing lines would be a dead mosquito. But the real treat was the smear of red along with the dead creature. Blood for blood. Raghav had had his revenge.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaa seee” he gurgled as he sped through the house on his red tricycle manuvering it with one hand and the other proudly raised above his head.

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