Overactive Imagination

She knew that the bus was unusually late. She was even expecting the delay, well, what more could one do when the heavens decide to rain and start thundering loud enough to deafen those who could hear. But what she had not taken into account was the slow creeping darkness, the apparent loneliness on the bus stop and her strange imagination on an all time high.

Though she hated the idea of waiting for the bus alone, having that strange man with a smoking cigarette in his hand, as her only company, was even more disconcerting. He seemed oblivious to the rain, as if with each inhale and exhale of the poisonous bouts of smoke, he was breathing heat and warmth into his body.If she had been a fancy writer who believed in Vampires, she would have described his character as someone 'enveloped in loneliness of a cursed life, breathing each sunset to devour more life, making friends for a night, only to remember their loss for an eternity'.

She sighed as another guy came over, running under the cover of his briefcase. Dressed in a formal shirt and black trousers, he seemed to be returning from his day at office. His 5'o clock beard gave him a very appealing unshaven look, almost as if he was a 'Knight in the court of Kings, sworn to protect the weak and fight for the Kingdom, but too tired after the battle' - 8 hours long - in front of a desk, in a comfortable chair. A fight which apparently has no casualties but takes lives on a daily basis. She smirked at the cruelties of the corporate world, turning her Knights into unthinking robots.

'The Vampire was slowly slinking towards the pretty girl in the corner, his dark coat flowing in the wind, enhancing his bat-like features as he moved in for the kill. The Knight was the first to hear her words of distress. His right hand, adorned with a mighty timex was now tapping the Vampire on the shoulder.'
"Excuse me sir, Can I get a cigarette?"

She smiled warily. In the world of fantasy, Knights may kill the Vampires and save the damsel in distress, but in the real world, they may just end up consorting together to share a cigarette, while the damsel gets in her bus, to go back to her own dreary life.

A Legend?

[Press Play button in the sidebar]

One shiny night in December, a very wise and old wizard named Sratanant Clauheus was wondering why muggle world feared magic and would hurt any witches or wizards.
Gripped in the throes of his confusion at this state of things, he was ultimately fortunate enough to arrive upon an idea.

"Why, Of course.." he thought, "We only offer to curse or jinx, because we have to defend ourselves afterall. But maybe we should offer comfort and gifts!.. and spread some cheer during somber winters for all".

He picked up his festive dress robes in Red and white.. and donned his half moon spectacles and threw some floo powder to travel tonight. While pondering upon his final destination, he solved his query, by a quick shout out to.. "A muggle home!" in hurry.

----
Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs Muffles were very worried. This year had been especially tough with the money. Little Jimmy was still waiting to get a bike. The season was also not having mercy on them and it was getting difficult to get warm food to the dinner table every night.
With only a glass of milk and some cookies left, they had, with heavy hearts, retired to their beds. But little Jimmy was still hungry for some food and took little steps towards the main room. He made sure that mom and dad were sleeping, and he moved without a sound, quietly peeping.

But as he approached the cookies, something truly amazing happened. The fireplace coughed out an old man in funny red coat who looked simply battered.Gathering up his courage, he went to get a closer look, still holding the plate of cookies and the glass of milk, at the man standing besides the books.

---
The little meeting in that old muggle home, is responsible for a thousand legends today. Some remember the old wizard as "Santa Claus".. some who initially believed him to have nicked food, ended up modifying the story to call him as "Saint Nicholas". But all who tell this story, cannot forget the cheer he brought along with his gifts, and they all remember for one night.. that believing in magic is truly a gift!

A Black Winter

Her days were spent in clearing the snow-filled passages and fixing the pipes। Hauling the snow with her trusted shovel, she would continue on her task until it gets done. But this white winter was showing no signs of an end. Every day she would clear up the roads, only to have them lined with snow again.

Tired and hungry she would return, only to have the creaking noises of the old house keeping her awake all night. She begged for the winds to stop howling,

"I hardly get any sleep.. Just stop the winds for tonight!".

She fervently hoped that her prayers would be answered. The winds heard her plea and sounds of the night abated for a while. Holding their breath, ready to gasp in surprise.

She was drifting to sleep. Cold was creeping in from the cracked window and now a layer of frost adorned her blanket. Shivering, but too tired to let go of her sleep, she snuggled further, seeking the absent warmth.

As the morning hours approached, she stared at her icy fingers, the white of snow from outside the window ~ almost blinding in the sunlight. She was rubbing her hands in a frenzy.. trying to revive the circulation. She moved towards the sunlight, dwelling in its warmth, gathering the strength to live another day.

In the receding darkness she could still see the Snow Queen, Royal in her carriage, promising to return and see her again tonight. She smiled and thought,

"Three more days to Christmas,
Three more days to survive,
Three more days for the Snow Queen,
to try and take her Life
Three more days till Father Christmas
Three more days till he arrives
Three more days for the Saint himself,
to fetch her away from this life.
Three more days .. of the Black Winter.
Three more days till respite
Three more days till her thoughts linger,
on 'where shall i get some food tonight'."