Mahaparinirvana

                                                                                    Photo prompt-© Erin Leary

Gautam, the Buddha, had been invited by a poor man.

He had served him mushrooms that grew in the backyard of his hut.

Back in his monastery, Buddha fell sick. Ananda got agitated when he learnt that meal served to Buddha was poisonous.

“Don’t utter even a word about it for everyone will hold the poor man responsible for my death.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Just tell everyone that that poor man is as blessed as was Buddha’s mother. She gave Buddha his first feed and that man served Buddha his last meal.”

Few days later Buddha attained Mahaparinirvana.

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There are many stories relating to the death of Gautam, the Buddha, one being that his last meal contained  wild poisonous mushrooms.

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 100

Power and Politics

The king was nervous. He didn’t want to lose his throne.

He could see that while his enemies were jealous of him all his friends were envious of him. He was as scared of his enemies as of his friends. He knew he could not trust anyone, not anymore.

He chose to strike a deal with his enemies. He agreed to cede half of his kingdom and treasury if they would help him to crush his friends.

But, however calculating he might have been, his enemies did not trust him. They knew that if he could strike a deal with his enemies to crush his friends, he could as well enter into a deal with someone else to crush his enemies.

The enemies decided to talk to his friends before accepting his offer.

The king did not know but things were turning messy for him. Enemies took their time to respond to his offer. The delay made him uneasy. In desperation he thought it prudent to regain the confidence of his friends. But the friends were no longer sure of his true intentions.

They chose to talk to his enemies before talking to him.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- calculating, messy and envious

His Majesty

The newly crowned king was pleased with everyone who had come to pay his respects.

His heart was bubbling with joy for everyone, including the animals and birds and trees and plants had accepted his majesty.

“They must have seen my greatness, how prudent of them,” king said to himself. He was magnanimous in receiving greetings from everyone.

But when he learnt that the waves of ocean were defiant and unwilling to bow to him he was extremely unhappy.

“Let the ocean suffer for his impudence,” he thundered.

“My Lord, we can’t punish the ocean. We can’t match his strength and power,” said the minister meekly.

“We can and we will. How dare the ocean insult us? If we do not punish him then others will be tempted to disobey us.”

When the minster urged the king not do anything rash, he felt revolted.

“Kill this man for he presumes to know more than us,” king ordered his soldiers.

The minister was beheaded.

The army set out to vanquish the ocean. The recalcitrant had to be punished. The order had to be restored.

Everyone heartily endorsed the king’s resolve.

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A post for Two Shoes Tuesday

Word prompts-ocean and order

Call of the home

                                                                                    Photo prompt-© Dawn Q Landau

He had walked for seven days and yet had not reached his home.

He had used all his cunning to escape from the gang who had stolen him. He was not the only dog in captivity. But he was the only one who wanted to escape.

His first attempt failed. They clubbed him till he became unconscious. But that did not deter him. He fought back; he chose to rely on cunning and not strength.

**

He was losing hope; then he saw her. He just wanted to run and touch her.

**

He kept trudging; he was too tired to run.

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(Inspired by ‘The call of the wild’ that I have re-read after many years)                            

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt


My other posts for Friday Fictioneers
                  Invitation
                  Inventor
                  

अपनी ही सुनते

शब्द हैं कुछ ठहरे ठहरे,

कान भी तो हैं

पर बहरे बहरे,

हाथ हैं कुछ ठिठुरे ठिठुरे,

दिल भी तो हैं

पर सिकुड़े सिकुड़े,

जो हम कहते

वही हम सुनते,

अपना ही बस

हम ताना बुनते,

तुम हो

या फिर ना भी हो,

इसका कोई सार नहीं,

व्यथा तुम्हारी

नीरस गीत

जिसमें कोई राग नहीं,  

आंसू तुम्हारे

बस पानी खारा,

निष्फल बहने देते

हम यह धारा,

अपने हृदय की व्यथा

हम सुनते,

अपनी पलकों के

मोती हम चुनते,

हम बस

अपनी ही कहते,

हम बस

अपनी ही सुनते.

©आई बी अरोड़ा 

Invitation

  Photo prompt-copyright-Marie Gail Stratford

“Are you sure that this invitation is for the inhabitants of this planet? I can’t imagine why anyone would like to invite them.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“You ought to ask, what is right with them?”

Every machine was sounding a warning signal.

“Everything seems polluted, even the minds and hearts. It’s not a place for a decent being. This invitation is a big mistake. We can’t let these people spoil our celebrations. Let’s go back. We can’t invite these people.”

“Rather we could suggest sending our renegades to this sick planet; it would be like sending them to hell.”

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A post for Friday Fictioneers- picture prompt

and Two Shoes Tuesday-word prompts- invitation and imagine

Word count 100

Hunt

It was a dark and cold evening. He left his den. Outside air was opaque. He shuddered and took a step back.

He had been like on the prowl for several days. He had been following his prey with an uncanny skill. He could have pounced on her whenever he wanted. But he had deliberately delayed the final act. The intentional delay and suspense was an aphrodisiac and, like a depraved animal, he relished it more than anything else. He had relished it on every hunt.

Today was to be the day when the hunt would end. He wouldn’t wait any further; he couldn’t wait any further. But the fog deterred him. He laughed at his uneasiness.

He was waiting on one side of the road. She was about to leave the dancing school. Fog thinned momentarily. He could see her coming out of the door on the other side, as always with two other girls.

He knew the place where he would cross the road; he knew when and where he would pounce on her.

But perhaps he did not anticipate the destiny; he could not escape the all-powerful destiny.

By the time he reached the place where he was to cross the road the fog had thickened. He could not see the car which was hurtling down the road.

The car did not stop. The girl behind the wheel could hear his pain; there were tears in her eyes and a smile on her wan lips.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday