Under A Different Sky

Under A Different Sky

A completely unrelated series of hunger stories

My father used to take me, and sometimes my younger brother, to a particular shop in the Baitul Mukarram Market. It was a gadget store.

under a different sky / Mazin

In the Kingdom of Rain, in the land of breeze, life moved in the rhythm of liquid glass. There, the glass was always full, and the sky never fooled one about the forecast. The stability of such ways brought people no dismays.

Three speaking Mynas

It was an overcast late spring day and two mynas were sitting on a cashew tree not too far from the sea. The branches were swaying as the waves touched the shore and sent out a gentle hello to all who resided close by. The earth vibrated with the rhythm of the wind’s play of multiplying ripples.

under a different sky / You — That Vastness

Your hands, they are flawless, your fingertips holding imprints of the million profound words you have typed, the faces you have touched, the doors you have held, and the way you have kept them now kneeling, in service for your soul, to create something remarkable, like you.

under a different sky / While we were waiting:

How fast does sound travel? Certainly not as fast as light. Under the bright sun, all sounds seem to dissolve into light, no residues, no gripes. But what about at night? Especially in those, where sounds of decay, destruction and discrimination travel fast through frothing

Under a different sky / Goa love - the sea and Aguada

The sun was not setting. The moon was out. It was one of those days where the moon protests visibly in the sunny blue sky.

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