Grim Reaper and the Merry Mormon

Oh how lovely were the days when the sky wore azure drapes, and the soft tufts of silky clouds floated far far away... mused the merry Mormon as she fluttered about the jasmines, flaunting her vivid crimson motifs through the greens.

From morning to night, and night to morning it rained for days on end. Why? Did anyone ever do something to invoke the wrath... of the god of rain?

The jasmine trees, her favorite kind, are withering away. The lush green hues on the foliage are shrouded in a burnt brown, with big and small windows opening up here and there... everywhere. The leaves are dying, the twigs are dying... the white flowers speckled with dots of darkest black.. are also dying. Yet the merry Mormon continued to flutter until she saw not too far a bouquet of flowers. There sat on tender leaves and buds a bunch of milky whites, bundled in petals of fives, awaiting her arrival with open arms.

The merry Mormon stooped and was about to perch... in glee. But alas.. she knew not... not till the last tenth of a second... that she dived into the scythe of the Grim Reaper.. who beckoned!

"No! Let me go! oh mighty knight of the netherworld.. spare my life. Time's not right. I've lots to do..  lots to see.. lots to say... to my friends.. oh yes.. friends and family and relatives.. everyone's waiting for me.. they'll miss me.. that is.. if I am not forgotten. How terrible of me.. I lost them.. and the sight of their trail. The orchards and paddy fields.. they summoned me and I fluttered away. The lullabies of moms.. the mirth of kids... and the songs of bubbly birds and busy bees.. they summoned me.. and I fluttered away. I laughed.. and sang.. and... oh wait.. the knight of Hades.. can't you wait.. just one more day.. even one second's still fine. Please l..e..t.. m..e.. l..i..v..e..."

Her voice died... but the merry Mormon did not give up.. on her minute mortal soul.. and thus she fought.. with all her might.. until... someone heard her plea.. and intervened.

A while passed. She blinked and opened her eyes. Am I alive? Or am I dead? She couldn't tell. Everything around was glowing.. in yellows and greens. Maybe I'm in heaven, or am I in hell? Have I done good throughout my life.. or was it bad..? She couldn't tell. It was a mix.. that she knew.. she was not white.. not black.. but grey.

So where am I? She lifted her head, with all her might and looked around. The Grim Reaper was not in sight.. not another soul was in sight.

Yet there she was lying on a lush green bed.. with one wing tattered and torn.. giving unbearable pain. She breathed heavy and slow.. yet she was a merry Mormon.. which she never forgot. She was alive.. and that was enough. Alive.. for another second, a minute, a day and still more. She sighed.. a sigh of relief and closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.






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The shots feature a Common Mormon that I was trying to shoot (with my cam) in mid May last year, and unexpectedly saw that a Grim Reaper a.k.a. praying mantis 'capturing' it first! I never knew these guys would attack or eat butterflies, so I snapped a couple of shots. Then again as a policy I don't interrupt meals of others - be it bugs, animals or humans. But this time I felt it wasn't fair as I assumed the mantis was a vegetarian and thought it might be eating tiny bugs occasionally for extra proteins.

And so on a whim I intervened and rescued the butterfly from the clutches of the mantis. The poor thing swirled and perched on the ground, but this time she caught the eyes of our curious cats! -__- So I had to pick it (well it hopped and got on to the yellow bell flower branch on its own, when I placed it next to her) and then I kept the branch (with the butterfly) on a jasmine tree. It rained again after sometime but I hope she managed to fly away, as her other wing was left intact.

Between positive and negative

Between the palm leaves on a thin branch sat a bird with his eyes fixed towards the blue sky. He sighed whilst gazing at the scenery unfolding below.. running far to meet the jagged hills of blue. He turned left and right, up and down. The world felt so empty, he was all alone.

The palm leaves waved gently, rustling now and then, as the zephyrs rushed to catch the unseen clouds in the far west. Ah, if only I could become the wind, I'd be free from all this pain and suffering. He sighed once more, listening to the songs of the wind. As the songs died, he heard once more the leaves big and small rustling in the wind. This time the trees were chatting among them. At least they have each other, thought the lonely bird in shame.

Just then the rustling stopped, the trees went silent, so did the wind. Even the world seem to stand still. He looked around, thinking, why? why is the world so void of sound? At last he heard a single sound, it was not loud but distant and soft. The sound grew louder, second by second. He heard it clearly the flapping of a bird. Someone was approaching him, little by little.


He was surprised, this was unexpected. Is this a ghostly wanderer? Or a bird with flesh and blood? Or a vicious predator like the one he escaped a narrow death, just days back? He didn't turn his eyes, instead gazed at the empty blue skies.

As the sound of flapping reached near, the passing zephyrs heard a soft prayer, "oh dear heavens! make my feeble heart strong. Let me find courage to see a comrade, even within a foe!"

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* The first photo is the cropped, resized version of the original and the 2nd is the same with inverted colors (negative). And the birdie in mid air with its wings spread wide was captured unexpectedly, as I was only focusing on the bird above perched on a thin branch. Weird enough I saw a mysterious charm in the negative picture than the positive one, thus thought to convert that feeling to a story.