Jwala e magazine by jwalaemagazine

C- amknI

C amkn-I

D-Ă&#x2026;-S-ÂĄw

Managing editor Alex Varghese Chief Editor Reji Nanthicatt Editorial Board George Arangassery Roy C. J Nimisha Basil Monie Shijo

sanctuary for death - short story - shubhadra menon ( first prize in UUKMA literature competition) eternal love - short story - austin james ( sub junior, first prize in UUKMA literature competition)

jwalaemagazine@gmail.com

{]-hm-kn-bp-sS th-cp-IÃ&#x201E; (Globalisation)

Migration)

(Homosapiens) (Fossil)

Map of Human

s]-®p-SÂ

A-fn-b-·mÀ ^n-äm-Wv t«m....

_m-ey-Im-e-hpw H-cp A-¸q-¸-\pw ssk-¡nÄ b-Ú-hpw

cm-{Xn-I-fnÂ A-]v-tU-äv sN-¿-s¸-Sp-¶-hÀ

Subadra Menoen ( first prize in UUKMA

short story

literature competition )

feels liberating to be back here again; away from the white noise of the rest of the world. As I tread carefully into the clearing, I listen in to the whispers of the mangled silver birch trees. They call me towards each stone in the abandoned graveyard, towards each forgotten soul lying beneath the overgrown clusters of dying grass. I can see the chapel now. That crumbling ruin stands before me like it usually does, trying to stare me down. There is no sun today to glaze over its imperfections. Each of the cracks in its every stone is visibly oozing out the blood of the past, creating homes for all the unwanted pests- including me. I turn back to look at the filthy, crooked graves and I'm met by the sudden sight of an army of decayed people, their dismembered bodies reaching out to me, clinging onto the damp of the stones, pulling the crucifixes planted into the tired Earth into strange angles and silhouettes. But then they disappear and I am alone again. They remind me of the people I used to

spend time with, the people I used to run away from. Those people used to pretend to want me and once I got too close they left me again. They wouldn't think to find me in a place like this. They wouldn't want to either. Just like this desolate mess, I scare people away without doing much. They say that I'm 'weird', that I'm an 'outcast', but how would they know what that even is if they've never been to a place like this? They've never seen those trees, barricading the clearing, holding onto each other for warmth and protection. They've never seen the grass climbing up from the ground, the twisted blades pining for the scarce sunlight. They've never seen the broken graves swaying side to side in utter hopelessness. They've never seen what I can see. I trudge over to the hidden pond, caked in layers of mud, shifting with the worms. I glance at my reflection in it and feel my heart sinking inside my chest. I truly am an unpleasant sight. Thick eyebrows frame my face, holding my eyes into the dark pits

KMA

short story

they protrude from. My thin lips sit in my pale, discoloured face with a veil of scraggly black hair hanging over it. It doesn't take long for me to break the stare against my reflection, moving my focus towards the sky. The inkblots in the sky start to swirl around, painting the sky a morbid grey and I fall back, lying on the grass, dazed and confused. I gaze back at the chapel. There is someone at the front of it. My reflection stands in front of it. It stares back at me and although I know we are identical there truly is no familiarity in his face. He grins but there is no joy in that smile. He takes steps towards me on the

ground, away from the darkening, starless sky. He reaches into a torn pocket and pulls out a blade; the only thing shining in this gloom. He reaches back with three more blades and lines all four of them up perfectly intertwined in his long, lanky fingers. He bends down towards me and although I know what is coming next, it's all going too fast. I know this is only my fault. 'Stop!' I yell. But it's over. I'm gone. When I open my eyes again there is no one there. Just blood on my hands and four knives lined up perfectly by feet.

short story

Austin James

Eternal love

(sub junior, first prize in UUKMA literature competition )

A thousand years ago, there lived a ten year old boy called Christopher and he was a brave, sweet and obedient boy who loved his father so much. He was bespectacled and was meticulous in everything he does also had a vivid imagination. He was very disadvantaged but as his father went to work for a little bit more days they were alright. His father was a captain of a ginormous, colossal and humongous ship. One day his father was ready to leave for his work. Christopher wanted to go with him. He pleaded '...Dad...please take me along with you.' But his father said 'No my boy...you can't come with me'. 'I am a captain of a ship... I have a lot of work there, I will not be able to take care of you.' But Christopher begged again '...Dad...Please dad...I beg you dad'. 'Please take me along with you'. Finally, his father agreed. Christopher was delightful, happy and joyful. They started the ship to sail. When the ship left the shore, captain ordered his son to stand on the dock and not to move from there.

The ship was floating precariously on the aqua blue sea. The weather was stormy with lightning treacherously thundering. Christopher was so exuberant enjoying the ripples of water. As time passed on. Suddenly he saw fire on the ship! He got so petrified and cried out loudly. O! MY GOD! The ship is on fire. 'Dad...where are you dad...please help me dad'. The moving people said 'Come boy come,' But he said 'No, I will not come, my father told me not to move from here'. He could not disobey his father evermore. The burning fire was increasing. He cried out 'Dad, my dad, where are you dad...please help me dad... Can I leave?' But he didn't know that his father had already died. At last he cried out 'Dad, my dad, please help me dad.' But his cry was only half heard, as the fire covered Christopher the brave, sweet and obedient boy was killed in the burning fire. After a few weeks, the bodies came to their house and Christopher's mum was feeling so sad and tears were dropping on the floor. All the relatives were sharing despair and filled with melancholy. The weather was rainy and cloudy with the wind rustling from one side to the other. The mud was wet and damp and nothing filled but the echoes of the cries of people. As the bodies were put slowly in the mud everyone was feeling the earth has stopped. One day Christopher's mum put flowers filled with heart-breaking emotions. She prayed with mercy that they will go to heaven. I would like to remind you that obedience is a virtue but we must act wisely as the situation demands.

AÃ&#x201A;-jn-ta-gv-kv