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My Hangover stories

Author : Amita Raj

A ruby red rose once lit my fire
Filled me with such fragrant desire Until later in these delirious dreams
I floated like a leaf on moonlit streams


Who is not familiar with hangovers, the after effects of consuming something excessively heady? It can be so many things that cause it, usually alcohol. I’ve heard many stories of people in dazed hangovers.


I’m personally drawn to especially unique stories of such delirium. One of the most vivid memories I’ve had was of a cluster of grey sparrows I saw. Chirping in a feverishly high-pitched symphony to the rhythm of the breeze, they vied with each in an endless mad competition, reaching for the heady nectar from pink berries dangling from a wild bush. Finally they collapsed on the ground. It was their hangover.


My personal special hangover was from my visit to a certain rose garden. This one had elegant beds of roses in an outburst of luscious red, pink, sun yellow and violet. They adorned the garden like a silky dress of many colours. I floated in this haven, feeling myself decked in so many rainbow hues.


I drank in the scents, each instilling a unique mood, of romance, nostalgia, glamour, melancholy or simply dreamy nothingness. I waltzed through this irresistible ballroom of enchantment for hours, reluctant to leave!


Finally at sunset, it was time to return home. However at night, despite my fatigue, I found myself taking a walk outside. The full moon lit the sky like a voluptuous pink ruby as I ambled through muddy paths. I gazed at the night sky as it sprawled endlessly across the horizon like a shimmering sari of teal and ocean blue, embedded with starry crystals and sequins, draping me in its glamorous folds. Bestowed also with celestial trinkets of glowing peridot and the moon’s diamond tiara, I basked like a queen on the swaying palanquin breeze. Roses from that garden I’d visited showered over me. Soaking in their soft scents, I drifted into a dreamy sleep.

When I woke up, I realised I’d been in bed all night. The radiant golden moon outside the window smiled at me. I glowed in her lustre, as together we toasted that memorable hangover!

About the Author

Amita Raj has always loved creating imaginatively rich stories through the melody and colours of language. Her writing talent was sparked off in her childhood at age eight in a classroom assignment where she wrote the autobiography of a pen. Since then, she has been enchanted with writing, also reading and enjoying the works of Rabindranath Tagore, Satyajit Ray, Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe. She has been a contributing writer to Deccan Herald, India Currents, Twist&Twain magazine, and of late regularly to Story Scrapers, ArtoonsInn Poetry Parlour and Soul Craft. She looks forward to her ongoing lyrical journey, writing and sharing with the world many more of her short stories, poems and novellas.

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