Sunday, November 9, 2014

Six again...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

Include this line “I wish I could be six again so I could…” anywhere in your blog.


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I wish I could be six again,
oiled hair in double plaits,
Piggy banks with little money, given with a lot of love,
getting sweets next to God,
Long skirts in bright but beautiful colors,
Lacto king candy,
Doordarshan and Ramanand Sagar,
Games in the street,
no worries to make plans to cook or clean,
no hurry to catch the bus or train,
and no keenness in adjusting duppatas,
How I wish to eat Ice cream in a stick?
dripping and licking,
sitting in my granny's lap,
listening to her folktales,
interrupting incessantly,
living a life without boundaries…
Oh, I wish I could be six again!


Friday, November 7, 2014

The bridesmaid

Anya looked at her best friend, being hit with a mixed emotion of awe and envy, as her friend was getting ready for her big day.

Bedecked in the best of jewels, her friend was wearing a red saree, the color enhancing her natural beauty.

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Deep down in her heart, Anya was scrutinizing for some flaws in her friend's looks, but she was failing desperately.

"Well, wow, I am going to meet the luckiest man on Earth today!" she said and hugged her friend close, planting a kiss on her forehead.

As she saw her friend walk down the aisle, love and pride filled her heart, and she uttered a word of prayer for her friend, suppressing behind the tinge of devilish envy.

written as a part of FSF by Lillie Mcferrin. This week's prompt is 'Envy'.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Missing the true Diwali

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
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BA-WOW

Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

Write a Letter to someone you miss the most this Diwali.



Dear Grandpa in heaven,

Its diwali, not the kind of the festival that we used to celebrate, the piles of turmeric speckled new clothes of the members of our joint family overflowing, the early morning 'Ganga Snanams' and the innumerable crackers of all kind. You are gone and gone are the moments of togetherness… Aunt's work schedule becomes hectic, uncle's son falls ill and it is evident that everyone wants to celebrate it in his or her own way in his or her own place. We still wake up early, but we do not have the crackers, as we have become aware of where it comes from and what it costs... If you were here, you too would have thought of the same.

Grandpa, there are new clothes still, but there is no one to exhilarate the beauty of the newly clad grandchildren. Every year, after giving us our dresses, you would be waiting for us to come back dressed in our new attire and so do we quicken up to show our new dresses to you, because it was you who would give the feeling to each of us that our dress was the most elegant than the rest. You would say, "Very glad!! Very glad, you look like a princess" and everyone would get the same compliment, and diwali would get complete for us.
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 The true joy, the true love, the true sense of diwali, a festival for giving, sharing and being together was wishfully fulfilled when you were there. 

Now, diwali happens through the long distant calls. Had you been here, my children would have witnessed what a real diwali would be like, what a feeling of pleasure giving and sharing delivers and how great it feels to be appreciated. I also wish to take a closer look on your dress and appreciate you in the same way as you do… Did I ever, or did anyone else do that to you, thatha?

Anyways, time enlightens us many things and it is quite an expert in making people cope  up for their losses. Time flies, we have diwali every year, trying to follow the traditions that you have enrooted in us, except that we miss you every moment. Keep blessing us, dear thatha!

With lots of love and memories,
Your eldest grand daughter.


Monday, September 22, 2014

Life of a simple woman

She jubilated that she was on the top of the world as she held her little bundle of joy, wrapped in a soft towel and she promised to herself that she would raise her little girl into a sensible human being.

When that little one, with all her toddler tantrums and mishaps, drove her mad, she doubted whether at all, it was her own daughter.

Days later, she marveled the way the little girl, by her words and deeds, proved that she was transforming into a young woman.
Source:Google

She silently admired how her little impatient daughter balances her profession and her marriage, the relation that she herself chose after keen inspection.


Today, as she closed her eyes in a prayer, outside her daughter's labor room; she wondered how the wheel of time whirs away, waiting for none.


written as part of FSF by Lillie Mcferrin. This week's prompt is 'Wheels'.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Celebration- one of it's kind

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

Write about an unexpected celebration.



The ragged walls of the shabby house too seemed to reverberate the sudden excitement and anxiety of its inmates. It could not be called as a house, may be as a 'room for living'.
"Are you sure that this is for us and no one will come behind to snatch it back from us, did you check whether it isn't stale, did you close the door for the stray dogs?", the restless lady was stunning her husband with endless questions.

"No doubts, this is for us and it is perfectly fresh. It was part of the celebration. The minister's supporters have been making it a great one. I was happy that I could make four of it. Come on, leave away your worries and unfold it. Let us have it today."

"I am still afraid, let us taste it before we give it to our children, the lady for whom I work, always gives me food that is days old and the little one suffers after eating that"

They opened the bags, they both drooled as the spicy smell of biryani, and the sweet smell of laddoos filled their little room.

On eating, the children knew for the first time how a spicy dish would taste and the family savored every tiniest part of what they had for that night, longing to have more and more.

The children giggled at each other holding their pieces of laddoo, the dessert for their day and their mother heaved a long sigh at them with a filled heart and an unfilled tummy.

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"Daddy, when will the Minister's next birthday come?" asked the big one innocently.

The tired father stared at his wife pathetically, brooding over his inability to give the children food of that sort on his own.

A few streets apart, the minister was adding 'kick' to his birthday, unconscious of how a part of his birthday celebrations has been an unexpected celebration of food for a family that day, though never will he be…


Sunday, September 7, 2014

The befuddled bridegroom!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

On an important day, you get stuck in a bathroom. What happens next?





I was flabbergasted to hear through the locked doors, what my booze-confused, dear friend was telling my dad.

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Chosen as wow
"Sure, uncle, he has gone to the Beauty Saloon with Ashik. He told me so, you can lock the door and we can leave now".

He sounded so sure and walked ahead, afraid that a continuing conversation would bring out the traces of yesterday's bachelor party.

And there, they left, finally leaving the hero of the day to ramble in the bathroom.

"Oh my God, am locked up in the bathroom man, who is going to rescue the groom now?" I shouted in a voice that did not even make sense like a voice.

The after effects of singing aloud and screaming on the stag party!

"Oh, what am I going to do now?", I was terrified.

They would expect me to reach the marriage hall from the saloon, they would wait and wait, and what would they think?

That the groom had eloped?

"Kanishka, how am I going to explain you?", her thought gave me Goosebumps.

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I decided that I had to become a superman to get out of the bathroom if I wanted to get married on the same day at the decided time.

I gained all my efforts and with a scream, I banged on the door and that is what I last remember...

How some distant uncle of my aunt's nephew who deliberately needed a bathroom rescued me at the neck of the moment was a real epic, as I heard from everyone else.

In addition, how many days, efforts and gifts it needed for making Kanishka  believe that I did not drink on the night before my marriage is another great sequel, that I can tell!

Thursday, August 28, 2014

The body-mind conflict



I was a 12-year-old boy, when I started to crave for the girly things, the headbands, the nail polish, the lipstick and the mini skirts.

I do not remember when this started but somehow it has started and was getting augmented day by day.

I did not know what I should do or whom I should discuss this with.
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I could not withstand the conflict between my body and mind, any then and one day, I asked my mother to teach me how to drape a sari.

However, when my father came to know this, he wailed and lamented, bet me up and I was threw away to the streets by my family, and then I draped my own sari.







Written as a part of FSF by Lillie McFerrin. This week's word is 'Conflict'.

Friday, August 22, 2014

waiting to leave

He was sitting restlessly over the edge of the crippled stone-bench, his shaking hands adjusting the glasses over his nose first, and tapping the walking stick on the ground, that his age and his family had gifted him in concern, next.

He bent over, examined the road, sighed, mumbled something to himself, nodded his head, rubbed his fore-head, pulled his ears, and then bent over to do it all again.

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He was waiting for his friend, a companion he found who matched his age, who soothed his emotions, and the park hours were their happy hours as they both had the same sort of experiences and expectations to talk about.

He waited and waited, that day, the next day and for the following three days, until he learnt from one of the regular walkers of the park that the old man's companion had passed away all of a sudden, without saying a word to his waiting companion.

Then he realized that he need not wait for his friend anymore, but for his day, to leave.

written in response for FSF by Lillie McFerrin. This week's prompt is 'waiting'.


Friday, August 15, 2014

College- the root fixer!

He was a hard-worker, and that had brought him to the best college in the country.

The first day, when he held the college map in scrutiny, he felt a lump in his throat, jumbled emotions of happiness and anxiety ran throughout his body.

The next year, when he took his juniors throughout the campus, he smiled to himself thinking of how humongous the college appeared on his first day, and wondered how he was affiliated to its nook and corners in a year's time.

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4 years of ardent learning and the desire to achieve the unreachable heights, revealed him to the best recruiters and within the campus, his future was mapped to excellence.


Today, as he wiped of his welled eyes to catch a better glimpse of his college, when his private chopper flew above it, the college was growing smaller and smaller but the vision it gave, grew wiser and sharper!



Written as a part of FSF by Lillie McFerrin. This week's word is MAPS.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

The wise army!

"Young women and men, the time we have dreaded so far is finally here!", the eldest of the army announced in a tone of bewilderment.


A wave of agitation arose among the rest of the army and some of them started to shiver,thinking of the days to come.


"Take a breath, relax, collect whatever you have saved and most importantly never leave track of your fellow members, when we start moving", he wavered his hands, promising them hope.


The next morning, they marched on their tracks, studiously following the head of the army, toting the gathered food carefully on their heads.



It rained that night, the next day and the next night, monsoon as it was, but the wise and bustling army of ants was safe and secure in their newly found air pockets, well before!


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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
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as a part of FSF by Lillie McFerrin(this week's word: secure)