by Neerja Sangha
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Man is born. He dies. Between the two events lies his tragicomic lifetime, a cocktail of emotions, thoughts, ideas and actions. He bobs along under the delusion of a well-planned order but life awaits him at blind turns. He may then howl, shards tearing into his soul or he may choose to let the blood sing in his veins. In either case, the mask slips often.
Rather than charge like the Light Brigade, most mince along, watching their step, glancing behind, primed to ward off ambush. This treacherous negotiation calls for skills. We compromise, we pretend, we condemn, we judge and on rare occasions we take courage and are kind.
It is those bitter sweet increments we live in that these super short yarns seek to capture and reflect. Written for the busy, they entertain and educate, leaving you to ponder long after you have sat back, fighting a frown and a smile.