Cinderella & The Battle



I remember seeing those sapphire eyes for the first time; so beautiful. Maybe something so bright isn’t meant to last long.
It was autumn, I remember; the leaves floating down from the trees. My eyes had just happened to collide with hers as I rode back to the castle on my horse, and she disappeared behind the garden gates, skirts swishing behind her. A brief second- but it was enough to notice her.
I don’t remember what made me do it. I ordered my loyal horse to halt and jumped off.
And then I was making my way towards the girl, pulled by an invisible magnetic force.
I recollected the rumors as I walked over the sweet grass. The McLeod’s servant- a gentle and fair maiden who had eyes the color of the summer sky, and lips like rose petals.
I reached the garden fence and peered inside.
She was sitting there; her rich plaid gown pooled at her feet; her hands clasped in a silent prayer. The rusted rake lied at her feet, placed carefully away from the neat pile of leaves. Her soft, blonde hair fell in a magnificent disarray. I forgot time; I forgot anything that existed but this girl.
I was unable to grasp the impossibility- of how something so beautiful could ever exist, hid behind these walls. She had this charm, that seemed to captivate anyone looking at her- the very same charm that over took me.
And it was enough.
For I was in love.




I tackle the thick rays flowing down from heaven and manipulate them – drain their power to a sheer ray if I desire. Every fiber in me is devoted to shield you from it, as I hang by a rod all day, staring out into the world from a glass. I can come dressed as you wish- plain or designed, thick or thin, formal or fancy. You draw me shut or you draw me open; I will be there, hanging.
The wind sometimes dances with me, nudging me gently, and I do- when the light is away, and the mighty sun is shrouded by the veil of the night sky. I’d rather be here to battle the sunlight every day than in the world outside; for it seems to have no purpose.
And if not for me, who?
The walls are not fine like me; they do not know how to win this war fairly. They do not know how I suck up the heat and light, and keep my body firmly positioned. So I stay there all day for you, to fight the proud rays who think they can penetrate through any material-
and I prove them wrong.


About the Author: Arundhati Soni

Two years ago if I was asked whether I liked writing, my answer would’ve been an emphatic ‘no’. Then all that changed. Writing now is something I do for absolute fun. It transports me to a world where I am not Aruni but a girl with a sword in hand and monster to defeat. It helps me venture further into different planes and dimensions people so often call imagination. Apart from writing, I am a trained classical dancer and the lead singer of my school band. I love playing the keyboard and paint often. I also participate in Model United Nation events and have won awards at these conferences.


(The stories and poems were a product of several creative exercises to stimulate imagination, relearn perspectives and experience writing through the senses as part of a creative writing workshop at Gyaan Adab)

Nityaasha Foundation