By Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad
Everyone likes my cupcakes all the time When the cupcakes emerge from the oven they are perfectly springy to the touch. Some things are so much easier than others, I think to myself - baking more than writing, in my case. There has never ever been a bad cake day in my life. But bad poem days, well... * We are at the bar after the open mic, talking about the usual things: the loneliness of being writers, the treadmill of multiple drafts, the inevitable downer of rejections, when my phone dings with a mail alert. That journal on my wish list does not have a place for my piece. My heart sinks in a way my cakes never do. * Old habits die hard - I have always soothed pain and disappointment with sugar. I pull out the hamper I brought for my writer friends - my cupcakes wrapped in festive paper, bow tied in fountains of cellophane. Everyone digs in. * Beer buzzed and bleary, we stumble into the night when a gaunt and drenched apparition asking for spare change emerges from the shadows. My friend takes my hamper and stabs slits in the cellophane with his keys, asking me if he may give the man one of my cupcakes. I watch him sink in hungry teeth, relishing the treat. He asks if I baked them and I nod, smiling, as he pronounces me an outstanding baker. My friends laugh and agree. I scroll through my inbox again, and sigh.
Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad is an Indian-Australian artist, poet, and pianist. She serves as a chief editor for Authora Australis. Find her @oormilaprahlad and www.instagram.com/oormila_paintings .
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL