Apr 6, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Short Story
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Horror (ish)
The Detention
©April 6th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Two things you should never do:
a. Contradict your teacher.
b. Stay back after school for an extra session.
I did both.
I stayed back after school. My outburst in class about yet another incorrectly-explained algebra problem had earned me yet another detention. Unwilling to look Ms. Know-Nothing in the eye, I stared at her hands, as I handed her my insincere apology-note.
And stared.
The fingers started flaking off. In minutes, all that I saw were bones.
I fainted.
When I awoke, I was a babbling mess. The teacher was not seen again. The school was closed down indefinitely.
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Thanks, as always to our gracious Fairy Blog-Mother and Fearless Leader of Friday Fictioneers, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for inspiring us every week! And thanks, as well, to
J Hardy Carroll, for that intriguing photo-prompt.
Tags: #Detention, #Mild horror
Apr 6, 2016 Climate Change is Real!, Ramblings and Musings
Climate Change is Real: Day 13 of my Lone Vigil
©April 6th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Twenty-three degrees this morning at 6:55. Twenty-Five around 7:30. Twenty-eight around eight a.m. Thirty before I left the house around 8:37. Thirty-two by the time I reached the spot at 8:42. Thirty-four by the time twenty minutes passed. And it got steadily warmer. Thirty-eight degrees now.
That’s alarming.
I woke up this morning, reciting The Walrus and the Carpenter in my head (yes, I am somewhat strange that way – random lines float into my head from poems I’ve read, or books I soaked up, and they insist on being voiced out loud), and stopped when I came to these much-quoted lines:
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”
Somehow, that penultimate line seemed relevant today. I wondered about the warming of the Pacific (as one does, these days), which has caused a flurry of speculation and alarm among those who keep tabs on news of Climate Change. A “boiling hot” ocean seems very fitting. And we, like lobsters, won’t know it until it’s too late, and we’re tapping frantically at the lid of the pot on the stove….
… unless, of course, we as a species develop more intelligence than a lobster (I think we just might), and not insist on foolish fantasies, coupled with denial of data.
My nonsense poetry recitation rapidly moved onto Jabberwocky, which also seemed fitting, but I’m not sure how.
Perhaps, because it lent itself to these words I just made up:
“Beware of Climate Change, my son
These years that kill, those jeers we hear.
Beware Denialists and shun
That foolish Trumpeteer.”
Moving right along. I was out there for an hour. After a quick recounting of his experience, Warren passed the baton (so to speak) onto me, and moved on homewards.
And the temperature moved from thirty-two to thirty-four to thirty-six, all within the space on an hour.
And the cars moved with it.
I sang Raga Jog-Kauns, a hauntingly lovely raga, an exquisite blend of Jog and Chandrakauns, but (as our teacher argued in the recording, and we concurred) it could also be a blend of Jog and Malkauns. Since it’s a newish raga, he said, we could make a case for singing either “kauns” aspect of it, including a run through a Pancham Malkauns, which is beautiful in itself. The text of the bandish goes: Kaise samajhaoon, maanata naahi, mana mora?” (How will I convince or persuade my mind to understand, when it does not heed me?) It goes on to talk about the singer’s beloved, with whom s/he wants to cavort romantically, but cannot, because the two lovers are separated, and s/he is restless because s/he feels desolate without her/him. Lovely piece!
If I were just to take the first line (“How will I persuade my mind to understand, when it does not heed me?”) and apply it to many people’s attitude to Climate Change, it seems sadly apposite.
We are separated from our true selves, the bigger Self (yes, yes, I know I sound all mystical here), and if we were to bring our separated selves together, surely we could effect change, change to the better, change to combat Climate Change. (This is where the cynics can leave the room.)
Well, the sun shone down brightly, and I wasn’t sad today. The cars drove by, all cheerful, many honking, many waving, many thumbs-upping (the people, that is), and I saw no dissent. Perhaps, our different selves will slowly come together? And when they do, will we still be alive to celebrate? I leave you with that cheery thought.
And I galumphed back, bearing my vorpal sword on my shoulder. The birds were singing as I left, and I declared to myself, “O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” because I had completed yet another vigil and was feeling momentarily virtuous.
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Tags: #ClimateChangeisReal, #ClimateVigil, #Jabberwocky, #TheWalrusandTheCarpenter, #TheWarmingofthePacific