Poems, Thoughts

My playground and garden

and just like every other day I tell
the woman in the mirror each morning that
the world is not just my playground it
is my garden where I can choose to
plant the roses and
water them with love or
let the weeds consume the
beauty I fail to envision so I tell
the woman in the mirror that while
the world is my happy playground bustling
with 
curiosity
it is also my beautiful garden exploding
with 
positivity.🌹

— Parveen Maghera

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Poems

the piece

I cut myself loose from this puzzle
with a snap from the scissors but
it won’t stay away insofar as
these feelings find themselves
right back into the same incision
to fill it as though
they’re screaming at me to go back
to where I was and start again
because I belonged there,
but I don’t want to be a piece of this puzzle
I cannot fathom, I want to be
the one who can mess the pieces
so you can feel
like a piece of my puzzle for once

— Parveen Maghera

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Stories

Two Red Balloons

The little boy walks up to his grandmother.

“Grandma, may I have two pennies please?”

Grandma frowns and snaps at him, “What do you need them for?”

The boy takes a step back and bites his lips. He looks down to the floor.

“I want to buy two red balloons,” he says softly.

“For whom?” Grandma questions sternly.

“For you,” he says.

Grandma turns her body towards him and frowns harder.

“And what would an eighty-year-old woman do with two red balloons?”

The boy looks up and smiles.

“You forgot again Grandma.”

“What did I forget?”

“Eighty-one, Grandma. Not eighty.”

Grandma’s frown disappears. She stares at her grandson whose eyes were gleaming in delight. He steps forward and grabs his grandmother’s hand, and whispers, “————….

She suddenly jolts awake. She looks around the bedroom. The glistening sun bathes the room, casting a hard shadow of her wooden chair on the floor. But the shadow looks different. She frowns and rings the bell.

“Rise and shine Mrs Hudson,” the nurse greets as she enters the bedroom. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Mrs Hudson slowly lifts her arm and points her frail fingers towards the shadow on the floor, and asks in a faint voice, “What’s that on my chair?”

The nurse smiles and walks over. She holds her hand.

“He was here this morning but he didn’t let me wake you.”

Mrs Hudson looks at the nurse, confused.

“Hold on a second,” the nurse says.

She carries the chair and places it in front of the bed. Mrs Hudson’s eyes widen and a slight grin appears across her face, but her smile got wider each second.

“My little boy was here!” She exclaims.

“Oh no no Mrs Hudson. He’s a handsome teenager now.”

Mrs Hudson gives a hearty laughter.

“No you silly girl! He’ll remain my little boy forever, even when he gets his own little boy.”

“Well well, alright,” the nurse crosses her arms. “I’ll get you some tea.”

“Wait!” Mrs Hudson calls out. “There is a card. Pass it over.”

The nurse slips the card into Mrs Hudson’s hands and leaves to prepare tea. Mrs Hudson slowly opens the envelope and takes out a piece of paper.

Happy birthday Grandma. I hope you remember it’s your birthday today. You’re 95 years old. Five more years to make a century, ey? By the way, you owe me two pennies for those two red balloons on your chair. I’ll be there tonight. Do get ready! 

Love,

Your little boy ❤

 

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