The club badge doesn’t gleam the way it used to. The mechanical pencil was hiding in a crease. Dust motes were matted to the surface with coconut oil. Fat grains of rice did not suit his tastes, despite his wife eating leftovers everyday. She needed to clean her desk to maintain a semblance of sanity. It was a beauty, the lilac and yellow sky. Stars twinkled brightest after a storm. Why was the hottest part of a flame a cool colour? The canyon crawlers will eat me. It was all just a game. The world’s biggets super-slide makes me queasy.
IBMC #3: Risk for a Random Challenge
This picture is of a rose in bloom on my grandmother’s gardened terrace from 4-5 years ago. It doesn’t really represent the entire place because I remember a cousin saying that if he ever had heaven, he would wish for that terrace. Nanu had all sorts of trees up there; from mangos and lemons to chillis and medicinal. She had everything. The house was a two storey one that my Nana had built way back, before the ’71 liberation war, and had to face an ongoing lawsuit to keep his. After he died in 2012, it just wasn’t the same. To this day, my brother is angry at my uncles for allowing the house to be demolished in favour of the more modern apartment complexes. It was the only place he could call home, he said. When Nanu had to live over at my aunt’s because of her pregnancy, the terrace-top garden suffered from lack of care and died off. But the memories remain.
IBMC #02: Freeze a Foto Challenge