The Unofficial Cafeteria

The best part of college life is you get to spend with your friends. Share experiences, share crushes, share so much with each other. You create memories, embark on adventures together. All your life you always wanted to go to school the way Archie, Betty and Veronica and friends went, not quite the Karan Johar way. You always wanted to learn (yes some of us did go to learn, we call them nerds), but you want to learn wearing the trendiest of clothes. And though we may have academics and careers on our minds (or at least our parents and professors would have want us too), the best memories we made were not in not only those classrooms ( or not always, you got to learn some way), but on those cafeteria benches. Where else would be able to sit and yap not get thrown out for talking. And if your college, like mine, didn’t have one, or a semblance of one, or the one  that existed was priced, the Dosawala bhaiya, the Sandwichwala, Chaiwala Bhaiya, became your unofficial cafeteria.

Now you maybe wondering which damn college did I go to? I so wanted to be a Xaverite but I ended up going to HR (well that’s a story for a different post). So that may bring you to another question, what does HR stand for? No, it’s Human Resource, or Harvard and Radcliffe (as our then Vice Principal would have loved us to believe), or even House of Romance, after all college is the time that brings the genders in close proximity, causing the hormones of youth to speed up its development. Alas the actual name, wasn’t as exciting as we hoped it would, after all the kids in the college always acted like elitist snobs, and so we shall not dwell upon it today.

Now the college didn’t anything that could be called a cafeteria (it didn’t have anything remotely close to a campus), so the dosawala and the sandwichwala filled in for a cafeteria, albeit unofficial capacity. 

So throughout the day you found student at the gate, which literally made them outstanding, enjoying a dosa or sandwich. And guess what, you didn’t have to buy one, catch friend eating one and you could pile on, after all sharing is caring.

These were the best place to hangout. Meet up with your friends, chat for hours  on end, you didn’t always have to buy, or you wouldn’t be chased out. This was the place where everyone hung out, for whatever reason. You weren’t segregated based on your, coolness, popularity, or your nerdiness. Everyone hung out like one big meting pot.

You stood there and made plans, decide on movies you wanted to go for, of course bunking lectures, cause Bunking is our brith right and we  shall do it, and you had the choicest of cinemas to go to. You planned vacations, short trips or even bragged about the things you’ve done.

So you stood there, shared jokes, shared lecture notes (you had to do that sometimes), shared agonies, waited for your favourite eye candy to show up, and like clockwork they always showed up on time.

And since you were at the gate you knew which professors at come. It was the best place to hangout with your posse, group, your tribe, your significant other and their friends, and even checkout the eye candies of the college.

In the end a major part of the students, if not all of them, could always be found at the gate, unless you wanted to improve your attendance, and avoid being on the Blacklist (thr literal list and not the show). So when the municipal came around to demolish our own unofficial cafeteria, the Vice Principal, now the Principal, move them into the college premises (whatever could be spared), finally making them the official cafeteria of the college.

The Rainbow Hued World

Come June and everything is rainbow hued. Sure it’s the monsoons here, and when sunlight passes through rain/cloud, it creates a rainbow, or the prism effect. It’s also Pride month, a month to celebrate you, who you are and who you choose to be.

So you have parades and parties, and dare I say, orgies, (maybe not in the current situation) and rainbow washing of every brand. People flamboyantly and unabashedly being themselves, marching to the beat of their own drum, waving their flags up high, for all to see. You have interviews and editorials and everyone wants a piece of Pride.

But what happens on the 1st July? Do we go back to living our lives? Do we go back into the closet? Do we go back to toeing the line of society?

So what does Pride really mean? Pride is being proud of who you are, who you choose to be, who you choose to love. After all, love is love is love is love. It’s greatest thing you’ll ever do, to love and be loved (thank you Lin-Manuel Miranda and Eden Ahbez, for these words).  Pride is about not being what society wants you to be, but being who you truly want to be, who you are meant to be.

Pride is lending a helping hand to those who need it. The ones who are confused and scared. Who are told that they are an abomination, what they feel is a sin. Who are often beaten into submission, bullied all their lives, coerced into unhappy relationships, under societal pressure, often giving into emotional blackmail.

Pride means telling the world and those who need to hear it, that you are unique, you are different, and you are ok being this way. You never know who’s life you are saving.

Pride means telling the world you will love who you choose to love, and this love is not sin. You may go from one relationship to the next, give them different names, your actions are basic human nature, not something out of the blue.

Pride is more than just apps, going from one sexual partner to another, and the various labels you give each other. Pride is about being unabashedly proud of your sexuality and your orientation.

Pride is all about loving yourself. Often images of toned models in banana hammocks (thank you Princess Consuela), forces upon you, leading to body image issues. It’s ok to be who you are, in the body you have been blessed with. It’s important to stay body positive, and lead a healthy life.

Pride is so much more than parades and parties and waving flags, being your flamboyantly, fabulous self. Pride is about affecting a change, starting a conversation, keeping this conversation going in the stories that you tell and the hope that you give. Pride is about helping society adapt to changing times, breaking the stereotypes of what is love, what’s family, challenging society to be more inclusive, more accepting, rather than forcing it into submission.

So be proud of who you are and let no one take that away from you. And way your flag up high not just through June, but for everyday to come.

“You hold tight to your umbrella

But, darling, I'm just tryin' to tell ya

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head”.

 - Kasey Musgraves

The Doctor’s Wife

It was a warm humid morning when he set out to complete some work. He adjusted his mask, as the norms of the time, which he grudgingly wore. Stood waiting for the lift to come. Getting in he checked himself in the mirror as he was accustomed to, even though he was new to the place.

As the door was about to close, he heard a voice asking him to hold the door. He turned to see a heavily pregnant lady waddling towards the lift.

As she made it in time into the lift, she thanked him for holding the lift. “I am Maya”,  she said, introducing her self with a smile. She was probably smiling, her mask hid that, but her eyes radiated a smile. She was Smizing.

“I am Kyle”, he said, smizing too.

“Oh yeah! You’re our new neighbour!” She said, maintaining her jolly demure. “J hope to catch up soon! Of course when this pandemic ends and this baby stops using me as her carrier!”

He couldn’t help but smile too. “See you around”, he said as they both exited the lift.

He saw her go towards her car. “Shouldn’t she avoid driving in her condition?” He thought. Each their own!

He then saw her scold a couple of kids, may of whom were not wearing a mask. “So she’s the high and mighty type”, he thought, “and here I thought she was one of the sensible ones!” He made a mental note to keep his distance from her.

He walked out of the gate and looked around for an auto to take him to his destination. 

Just then he heard a honk behind him. It was her again. “I am heading that way”, she said, “let me drop you”.

He tried to wriggle himself out, but she insisted and persisted, so he grudgingly gave in. There went his plan of keeping his distance. 

“I wonder why can’t people ever wear masks, or wear them properly !” She grumbled, “ after all it’s for their safety only. And those children, if the next wave is going to affect children how do we keep them safe when they can’t follow simple rules!”

“But shouldn’t it be up to them, whether they choose to wear a mask or not” he said, trying not to get into an argument. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with a pregnant lady. 

“But then wearing a mask is fir their own protection against the virus,” she said. 

“Don’t you think if the virus is in the air it would be able to pass through the mask,” he replied, “wouldn’t it be able to get through the mask?”

“Well, in a way you maybe right, but that doesn’t mean you don’t wear one. Some protection is better than no protection!” She said thoughtfully.

“I agree”, he said carefully, trying not to aggravate the situation “but wearing a mask should be a choice, not a decision imposed on someone!”

“It’s easy for you to say”, she said sarcastically, “what if you took all the precautions, and the opposite person behaved careless. Wouldn’t you get infected because of their carelessness?”

“Well”, he said carefully, knowing he was treading in thin ice. This was the last thing he wanted. “That’s true! But this just a flu, and in time it will be something common. Right now we are overdoing it!”

“Hmmm”, she said, “go on, you have my ears!”

“Ok”, he said, knowing that there was no going back from here, and he needed to stand his ground, “take for example, this lockdown. What benefit would you get keeping people cooped up in their homes 24 by 7.”

“But then the lockdown was meant to curb the spread of the virus. There would be a greater death toll if the country wasn’t lockdown,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“How long would you be able to contain people,” he said, trying hard to maintain his cool, “at some point in time you have to leg them go. After all, they have got to eat, to earn, to take care of their families”.

“Well you are right in that way,” she shrugged, “but then the number of infection and the number of deaths would be high!”

“Isn’t the the number of deaths just fraction of the population?” He asked, “have t more people have died in accidents and of other diseases?”

“Well, not in a single day!” She said maintaining her calm.

“If you think this isn’t that serious l, and we are overdoing it, what do you think it is?” She asked him.

“If you ask me this a way by which pharma giants want to make money, and get the world indebted to them” he said, “for all you know they might be the ones behind this catastrophe! They want us to be vaccinated by something that’s not too sure would protect us!”

“So you agree this is a catastrophe?” She asked coolly. “But you believe we are giving this virus undue importance.”

“That’s right,” he said, worrying if he was stepping into a trap. “Take for example the lockdown. It has effectively culled so many small businesses. So many people have been brought to the streets. And wouldn’t locking people up actually being down their immune system instead of boosting it, which is actually the need of the hour?”

“Well that’s right,” she said, “the lockdown has destroyed as many lives as the virus. But then the lockdown has been an ill planned one. If it was planned better, we wouldn’t have found ourselves in such situation.” 

“Have you lost any business because of the lockdown ?” He asked, but didn’t wait for her to answer, “I have. I’ve lost my job because of this lockdown. I had to shut down my printing business, because I couldn’t afford it. My wife, who used to run a fitness studio, had to close down cause students were comings and she couldn’t afford to keep the studio. I’ve had friends who have lost all their source of income, and living on the generosity of others. They didn’t deserve that!”

“I can never fathom what you have gone through,” she said, “and I do wish the situation wasn’t this way. But we are in situation because of our very actions and the in capabilities of the ones in power.”

“Let me ask your this question,” she said, maintaining her concentration on the rode ahead. “Have you ever lost someone to virus, or do you know anyone who may contracted it?”

“Well, I did have  couple of acquaintances who tested positive. But no one I’ve known succumbed from it,” he said wondering where this was heading to!

“Well I have”, she said, “I have lost someone dead to me, to the virus!”

He could detect a hint of sadness in her voice. He suddenly began have this guilty feeling creeping up in him.

“I do see from where you are coming from”, she said, after a brief pause, “his pandemic has hit all of us in different ways.”

“However, I would like to add here, though we have a right to our opinion, in a way we need to be respectful of our losses”, she said. “I lost my husband to the virus. He was a doctor who seeing infected patient on a regular basis.”

He didn’t know what to say. He could only manage a very feeble “I am sorry”.

“Don’t be,” she said, trying hard to fight back her emotions. “I am proud of him and what he and many frontline workers have done for the community. Many them chose to stay and fight, putting their lives at risk for others. They didn’t want anything in return, no applause, no banging or plates, or showering v of petals. All they wanted to be supported, cause they coming to an end, abs are struggling under this weight.”

“If my husband wanted he would have wanted he would have chosen life”, she continued, “if he wanted he could have chosen not to help. But he had taken an oath of service, and died sticking to the oath.”

“He chose to put his life at risk. And since he didn’t want me to be at risk, he had to stay away from his family. He paid the ultimate price by sacrificing his life for that of others. His only regret was he couldn’t help more people, and his child would grow up not knowing his father.”

“But there’s one thing. I feel sad that  I wasn’t at his side when he breathed his last. But I will not mourn him. I will always be proud of what he did. I will always be proud of him and countless other doctors, nurses and healthcare professionals who weren’t afraid of the virus and in fact sacrificed their lives for it.”

He didn’t know what to say to her. She had left him stunned.

“I do understand from where you’re coming from, and I sympathise with your situation. I think, somewhere down the line, we will be able to have a better understanding, and would be more respectful of each other’s opinion,” she said.

“I think that’s your stop” she asked.

All he could muster was a feeble head shake.

He thanked her, as he got out of the car.

“You’re most welcome”, she said cheerfully, “I should thank you for the company and the wonderful conversation. But now I should take your leave. This baby is  all set and eager to greet this world, and doesn’t even want to wait for a single moment. So we are on for dinner, once I am back from the hospital”, she said Cheerfully as she drove off to deliver her baby as he stood there staring in her direction.

It’s OK

She stood there staring at the vast ocean in front of her. The grey, rough waves seemed to reflect the way she felt on the inside. She wanted to scream and shout, but she held it all within.

Minutes earlier she was at her oncologist’s clinic, who informed the cancer had returned, and  it was back with vengeance. It had spread to other organs. She had just a mere two percent chances of survival.

Her world collapsed when she heard this. She didn’t know how to react, what to do? So she wandered aimlessly around the city, till she came to the promenade where she sat staring vacantly at the sea in front of her. 

As the numbness of the initial shock began to wear off, she began to feel this sharp pain, as if someone had taken a knife and drove it right into her heart. 

She felt frail and weak, not just from the treatment, but also from what she had just learned.

Though she had held it altogether, she could no longer hold it all inside. She buried her face in her hands as the tears began to flow from her eyes.

And then something strange but extraordinary happened. She felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned around, she saw sweet elderly lady standing behind her. She smiled and hugged her. And then broke into song.

“You with the sad eyes

Don't be discouraged, oh I realize

It's hard to take courage

In a world full of people

You can lose sight of it all

The darkness inside you

Can make you feel so small”

And then another lady lifted her face, and smiled as she sang.

“Show me a smile then

Don't be unhappy

Can't remember when

I last saw you laughing

This world makes you crazy

And you've taken all you can bear

Just call me up

'Cause I will always be there”

And then all the passerby joined to form a whole chorus line of singers and dancers, singing 

“And I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colors

True colors are beautiful

I see your true colors

Shining through (true colors)

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colors

True colors are beautiful (they're beautiful)

Like a rainbow

Oh oh oh oh oh like a rainbow”

And just like it started, everyone dispersed without saying a word, as if nothing really happened.

Was this a flash mob? She wondered. She tried to see if there was anyone. But no one approached her.

What had she just witnessed? Was it her mind playing a trick on her?

In all her thoughts she realised she felt much more calm. There was a hope that was burning bright within her.

What if she had only a two percent survival chance, two was much bigger than zero.

She had  fought valiantly, and she would continue to fight with all the might she could muster.

She didn’t come so far only to give up!

So what if she was lost, everyone has at some point in their life have been lost too!

She got up and walked, with a renewed determination.

She began humming to herself, and right on cue, a chorus line formed behind her, joining her.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok

If you’re lost

We’re all a little lost and it’s alright

It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok

If you’re lost

We’re all a little lost and it’s alright”

The Daughter of the Mud

If it was a doggy dog world, she was living it. She went through the day with a dog like determination, working like a dog. It seemed there were lot of dogs to describe her life. And it didn’t help that she had a Miranda Priestly for a boss, who not only made her slog and made her life miserable , but made her work doubly hard to prove herself.

Then one day, right in the middle of a presentation, the room started to spin around, and the world became a blur. One moment the world was right side up, the next, it was on its side. All she could see blurry blobs of light, the world going by in a speedy blur. And then it was all dark.

When she opened her eyes, the world had changed, it was a very strange world. The world had gone all black and white. Everything appeared like strange lines. She was now a floating blob, and there were others just like her.

What was this place? Was she dead? Was this purgatory? Why could she not feel or smell anything? 

She tried to ask someone, but they just hurried away quickly.  She felt all alone and lonely, in this  strange place. She started to wander off trying to figure out where she was, trying to see if she could get back her taste and smell.

Suddenly there was this smell. Faint at first and then it grew stronger. It was a familiar smell but somehow she couldn’t place what it was. Like an itch, it kept nagging her.

When she finally realise what it was, something quite strange happened. The lines became shapes, the shapes became objects, which began to be filled with colour. These objects began to form pictures, which she had seen before.

In front of her was a little baby, siting on the grass, with a woman, whom she assumed was her mother. The picture seemed familiar but once she couldn’t remember where she seen it. And then it dawned on her.

The child was she. This was the house where she grew up in. Gosh, she loved living here so much, but somehow over the years had never seen it. And the garden, it was her favourite place  of the whole house. 

She then saw herself eat little of the mud. Her mother who saw it, gave a little pat on her hand, but then hugged her daughter with a big smile. She remembered how she loved the taste of the mud, and her mother used to scold her for doing so.

Then scene changed. It was still the garden, but this time she was a little older, with her grandfather. He was watering  the garden. She loved the smell of wet mud. It filled her joy and happiness. She remembered the hours she spent on her front poach enjoying the smell of the mud on a rainy day.

All of a sudden it began to the rain, and her grandfather was no longer watering the garden. She now saw her older self laughing and playing with the family dog, running round her, splashing in the puddles of mud. 

Oh what fun she had that day, slipping and sliding in the rain and muck, with her doggie in tow. She remembered how they were covered  in mud, from head to toe. She got a scolding from the maid who was sure that they were going to double her work.

The scene changed once again. She could see herself with her grandfather in his little workshop where he used to make little mud dolls and idols, which he sold in the local market. This was when he had helped her make her very own mud doll. She remembered how excited she was when he showed her how to shape the mud. She remembered asking him if this was how God made humans. He just smiled and kissed her. She remembered how she waited patiently for the dolls to dry so she could paint them. And once they were ready, she ran to show it to her mother, who was so proud of her, and put the doll in place for all to see. That day she declared that she wanted to be an artist just like her grandfather.

Once again the scene changed. This time she was returning home from church with her parents and grandparents. She remembered that day, their priest kept using the word “Son of the Soil” to introduce the preacher. So she proudly declared to her family that she was the Daughter of the Mud. Everyone laughed and blessed her.

Slowly the scene faded away. She was now on the football field with her friends. She remembered this game, it was the finals and though her team played really well they ended up loosing it. She could see herself sitting dejectedly on the field, all covered in bruises and mud. Suddenly there was a hand on her back. It was her father. She remembered hugging him tight, never wanting to let go. He just took his baby girl in his arms, rubbing the mud off her face, kissed her forehead. He carried her and swirled around, he didn’t care that he was getting mud all over him.

And then the atmosphere became somber. She saw her grandfather lying in a casket. She was surrounded by her loved ones. She then saw the pallbearers lowering him into his his final resting place. She could see herself letting go of the mud while tears streamed down her eyes. She remembered that sad feeling. She remembered her grandfather used to say that “We are made from mud and to the mud we shall return”. He was returning back to his home.

As the scene slowly faded, she wondered what happened to her? In a pursuit of success she lost touch of so many things, her childhood home, her family, her health. She had called herself the Daughter of the Mud, how did she loose her connection to it? She had so many sweet memories with it, so many of those memories were connected with the people she loved so dearly. How did she get so lost in the concrete jungle that she lost touch even with the smell of the mud of the front yard?

And then something very strange happened. She found herself enveloped in this strange brown cloud  that was filled with the sweet smell of mud. It swirled around her like the tornado carrying Dorothy and Toto from Kansas and into the land of Oz.

And when it lifted, she found herself in her old room. It had been raining outside and through the window the came the beautiful smell of mud. She heard a cry of joy from her bedside, it was her old maid who cared for her as a child and was caring for her now. 

Her parents came bursting into the room. They had tears of joy in their eyes. They hugged and kissed her. They couldn’t give up on her like others. So they brought her to the only place they knew she was deeply connected with. And it did it’s part to bring her out of her slumber.

She hugged her parents tightly, never  ever wanting to let them go. She was the Daughter of the Mud, and it did it’s part to bringing her back.

What we do in the Shadows!!!

She walked along the path with a spring in her step and a song in her heart, which she hummed as she went along. It was joyous day and nobody was going to take it way from her. 

She, all radiant and sweet, decked in all red. From the ribbons in hair, to the shoes on her feet, all that she wore was of the colour red. Little Red, that’s what they called her, and she didn’t mind it all, cause what could be better than red, unless you were dead. But she was alive and happy, and joyous as a little girl could be. And though it may seem  she was all by herself, she had her shadow to keep her company.

So she hopped and she skipped, with joy in her step, humming and whistling as she went, her shadow always staying a step ahead.

Now the path led through the woods that had posters and signboards warning people of the creatures that roamed. But she didn’t fear them, cause as long as she had her shadow with her, there was nothing to fear. So she continued cheerfully on her way. 

Now the forest had old gnarly trees that provided thick cover. Most of the path was dull and gloomy, with a chill, save where the sun managed to break through the trees, in the bargain creating weird shadows, just like creepy hands reaching for you. 

Now Little Red felt the chill too, so she pulled her little red hood  tighter. “Stay with me my dear shadow”, she whispered to herself, “Please don’t leave me and go.”

Now behind the tree lurked the Big Bad Wolf, who had been following her from the moment she set foot in the woods. 

He was the Big Bad, that the posters had warned off, and even had a bounty on his head. 

Now it had been a while since he had a meal, and the sight of lLittle Red and her picnic basket would surely make quite a satisfying meal.

Just then he stepped on a dry branch causing quite the jarring crack, alerting Little Red, who froze in her tracks.

“Who goes there?” She said, trying to muster all the fierceness she could cram in her voice.

He, a shape shifter, transformed into a woodsmen, and came out from his hiding behind the bush. “It’s just me, a lowly woodcutter”, he said, “Scavenging these parts for dried branches to keep my family warm and fed!”

“Oh, bless my little red heart,” said Little Red, “you gave it quite a start! For a moment I thought you were the Bug Bad, that those poster and signboards warned of. From the looks of it, he seems like quite the notorious character.’

“Is it, so?” He said, with a big grin on his face, feeling mighty pleased of himself. “I am sure he’s quite the fierce beast, at least that’s what I’ve heard. But what’s a pretty little thing doing in these woods, all by herself?” He asked her.

“Oh I’m off to meet my grandma, who hasn’t been keeping too well,” she said innocently, “I got these yummy treats that I am sure will lift her spirits and make her feel better”.

Now he was well versed with these woods and knew about the cottage , but didn’t know it was inhabited. This sure was his lucky day, appetisers, main course and desserts. It was rarely he had a three-course  meal.

“You better be off then,” he said, trying hard not to sound very pleased, “you don’t want to get caught in these woods in the dark!”

“No dear, no!” She said anxiously, “I better be off then. You take care and I hope to see you soon!” 

Saying this, she went off on her way, humming happily. He waited for a while, and transformed into the big bad wolf. He took a shortcut that he knew, reaching the cottage before lLittle Red could.

He crept through an open window and crawled through the hall. He went from one room to another, but there was no one at all. He sniffed the furniture and drapes and covers, to find grandma scent, to try to figure out where grandma went. But he couldn’t find any scent at all, and the cottage was all bare. It seemed like that no one had lived there.

So he wondered if Little Red was playing him for a fool. 

Just then he heard her voice, coming down the path, and he began to panic as he was not sure where to start. He didn’t know what grandma looked like, so he had no time to transform into she.

At the moment he heard a knock, and jumped right into bed, wearing a bonnet, which he had found, to cover his head.

“Come in, my child,” he said, trying not to give himself away. Staying in the shadows.

“Hello grandma, I hope you’re feeling well?” Said she, moving towards the bed cautiously, “I got you some goodies, that will make you feel better”.

“God bless you my child.  So come closer my child,” said he, “so that I can have a better look of thee.”

So she went a little closer to the shadowy figure on the bed. There was something very strange  about its head.

“Grandma, what big ears you have”, she finally said.

“All the better to hear you my child,” he said, trying not to sound irritated.

After a little while, once again lLittle Red asked, “Grandma, what big eyes you have.”

Now he got all the more irritated, and sneered at her, “All the better to see you”.

Finally, she said, as she came close to bed, “Oh grandma, what big and sharp to teeth you have!” 

“All the better to eat you”, he growled, finally giving up the charade.

However, she managed to dodge his attack, and went screaming out of the room.

He chased her around the furniture, dodging the things she threw. Finally managing to corner her, from where there was no escaping him.

“You can run, you can scream, you can even try and hide, but there’s no one going to save you from being my meal” he said menacingly,  as he pounced  towards the figure that was crouched in the corner. 

And then something very strange happened. He couldn’t move! It was as if he was frozen midway.

“It’s so easy to be menacing when you think you are all big and strong”, said Little Red with a wicked smile. “It’s easy to underestimate your prey and get all caught up in a false bravado, when you have all that brawn! But what happens when the tables are turned!”

She pulled a dagger from under cloak.

“Put me down!”, he screamed, “and I’ll show you how the tables are turned!”

She threw her dagger at him. It missed him, and suddenly he was set free. “Oopsie! Looks like you missed! Now there’s no  stopping me from having my main course!”

He once again pounced towards her, but this time he went totally cold. He turned ashen, balled over, scared and chattering, and whimpering.

“Who said I missed!”, said little red, with a smirk, “I hit what I meant to hit! And who said I was alone, as long as my shadow is with me, I am never alone!”

As she said this something strange happened, her shadow came and joined her,  holding that of the big bad wolf.

“What’s a beast without his shadow, naked and all alone, and a scared mouse!”, she said, putting her dagger back in its hilt.

Later that day, the town’s Sheriff found the the big bad all bound up with a note that read “With love from Little Red. P.S.: You know where to transfer the bounty amount!”