Dreams Unlimited!

Transition

2019-04-20T17:19:00.000+05:30

One last look at it and she tossed it into the river. She saw the current carry it far, far away… till there was no glimpse of it, any more. Her past was gone. On the face of it, she’d lost the battle, but she had found her true self today. Earlier, her anger had always culminated in tears. A single tear that rolled down her cheek today reflected the sea of change.

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This post is in response to a writing prompt to include 3 nouns: anger, battle, river.

Addiction

2018-05-02T19:25:00.000+05:30

I'm afraid of the comfort I derive from solitude - it's an addiction... she whispered under her breath, staring away into the vastness of the ocean.

Talking to herself was not unusual after all...

Belle

2017-09-24T16:28:00.000+05:30

Time’s elapsing, decades have passed

The pace of life is way too fast,
Life may have added years to her age
Yet she smiles with all her heart.

She cries, she dances, she sings

Admires the love in little things,

Her fears, temper and moods may change

After all, life’s eventful and strange.

Her beauty shines on even though old
Lost her heart and found her soul,
A warrior – her strength cannot decline

She walks on, leaving her footprints on the sands of time…

The Gift

2016-07-06T13:13:00.000+05:30

Words flowed onto the screen, not paper. She used keys instead of a pen. The backspace key became her eraser. Her graceful, wrinkled fingers traced the smooth edges of the new laptop he'd just bought for her. He looked quizzically at her as her lips broke into a faint smile at the sight of her most cherished gift - the golden cross-pen he'd gifted her decades ago; it still adorned her bedside table and ruled her heart.

Love for serenity

2016-03-22T14:21:00.000+05:30

The floor beneath her feet shook violently. Hurled stormily to one corner, she tried to get on her feet in vain. The cutlery from the shelf came crashing down and missed her forehead by a hair's breadth. She barely managed to crawl to the edge of the staircase, quickly making a dash for the exit. Once outside, the gravity of the situation sunk in - a giant wave, a surefire killer, was rapidly pacing towards her boat. She wondered how come she'd always been in love with the sea for its serenity...

Take me there…

2016-01-18T15:32:00.001+05:30

The string broke, the beads fell apart
Is this the beginning of the end,
Or is it a fresh start?
Is life about the entirety,
Or merely a sum of all parts?
So many unanswered questions
That haunt the mind and heart.
Oh take me where the peace belongs,
Where doubts are weak and love is strong.
Take me where the warmth of the sun
Lights up hearts both old and young.
Take me where I’d like to stay
To be myself, to laugh and play,
Oh take me far away away…
Take me where I’d like to stay.

Music or Lyrics

2015-12-30T13:18:00.001+05:30

Music or lyrics – the eternal debate continues… It’s not easy to take sides because both together form the very essence of what makes a song lovely, groovy or even haunting – like the fragrance that follows you when you pass by a perfume store, or the warmth that pacifies your cold fingers on a chilly day or the feel of a kiss that lingers on in your mind for days, months or even years, bringing a sparkle to your eyes every time you reminisce it.

It’s true indeed that when you’re happy, you bask in the glory of the tune – the music simply takes over every cell of your body; on the other hand when you’re sad and lonely, the lyrics seem to hog up all the empty space in your heart and mind, often finding a way out through welled-up eyes. But most often than not, it’s the perfect combination of the two that does the magic!

There’s no doubt that a tune without lyrics will still be music whereas without the music itself, there’s no song at all… it might as well be a poem! It’s the music which sets the stage for what might become a hit number or remain something drab. Haven’t you ever fallen in love with a song that you don’t get the lyrics of? I don’t know why but I’m immediately reminded of the Arabic part in Desert Rose – I don’t understand a word of it (my bad, I guess!) yet, it’s so haunting!

All said and done, a perfect cake gets ready only when you mix all the ingredients together in the right proportion – likewise, a song that sticks on my list is one that packs in some awesome music with words that reach the depths of my heart and soul. What’s more, it definitely makes my day if one of my favourites ends up being my earworm – it’s as good as eating your cake and keeping it too! Well today was one of those lucky days and I hope you enjoy this one by Coldplay as much as I do…

‘Cause you’re a sky, ‘cause you’re a sky full of stars
I’m gonna give you my heart
'Cause you're a sky, ‘cause you're a sky full of stars
'Cause you light up the path
I don't care, go on and tear me apart
I don't care if you do
'Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars
I think I saw you
'Cause you're a sky, ‘cause you're a sky full of stars
I want to die in your arms, arms
'Cause you get lighter the more it gets dark
I'm going to give you my heart
And I don't care, go on and tear me apart
And I don't care if you do
'Cause in a sky, cause in a sky full of stars
I think I see you
I think I see you

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Written in response to a writing prompt Earworm at The Daily Post.

Beauty within

2015-12-28T16:57:00.000+05:30

It calls for an abundance of inner beauty

To appreciate the splendour of little things in life,

‘Tis not for nothing that they say

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder…

To where it all began!

2014-11-26T16:54:00.001+05:30

Uprooted from home

Planted into a new abode,

New faces, new places

New experiences galore.

Far from home, adjusting to the place

Every person around a foreign face

Days progressed, but life – standstill

Weeks and months and years to kill.

Children born and raised and fed

Every little need was met,

An emptiness still haunted her mind

Oh won’t the universe be kind?

Life had passed, the end now near

Made a wish, she shed a tear

A journey to home she must commute

Life spent uprooted, in death she’d find her root.

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This is a work of fiction written for a Writing Challenge theme ‘Digging for Roots’.

Digging for Roots

Eat whatever you want!

2014-11-20T12:29:00.000+05:30

I was sipping Assam tea while enjoying my favourite freshly-baked walnut brownie made by my sister Simran. The doorbell was answered by her maid and a miniature storm invaded the room as my 6-year-old nephew zoomed inside. He dropped the school bag on the sofa, kicked-off his shoes and socks, got rid of his neck-tie and then with an innocent smile, quietly sneaked into the kitchen.

Moments later, sporting a grin that extended as far back as his ears, he seated himself on the chair next to mine with a big bowl of strawberry-banana ice-cream.

‘Whoa!’ I exclaimed as I raised my eyebrows and stole a glance at Simran. She smiled back placidly at him.

I couldn’t stay quiet. ‘It’s raining outside Adi. Wouldn’t you rather have some hot chocolate milk with a sandwich or something?’

‘Come on mausi’, he made a face at me.

I turned to Simran in hope ‘You must not allow him to eat all this during this weather Simmi. What if he falls ill? My neighbour’s daughter is down with viral fever since a week and she’s gotten so weak.’

Simran teased me with her twinkling eyes, ‘He’s got a magic wand to protect him. Something like a secret potion. Only that it’s not a secret anymore.’

I was beginning to feel as if this was some conspiracy being played out by the mother and son while I was the silent spectator. What’s worse is that I was really feeling worried that Aditya might catch a cold soon. He was close to emptying the bowl of the yummy ice-cream.

Noticing my restlessness, Simran came and hugged me from behind as she put my worry to rest ‘Didi, I give him Dabur Chyawanprash every day. You obviously know about this time-tested, age-old formulation for good immunity, right?’

‘Yes, I’ve heard about it but does it really improve a child’s immunity?’

‘Of course didi. Thanks to the goodness of a number of herbs and 40 natural ingredients, it actually strengthens the body’s defenses and protects against illnesses.’

I was still skeptical as I recalled my neighbour’s daughter, ‘But does that mean you allow him to eat and drink anything he wants?’

‘Didi. I have seen it work and that’s what makes me resolute about its efficacy. Do you even remember the last time Adi fell ill? Previously, he would keep catching cold every now and then from kids in his school. But now, things have changed. His health his good.’

I slipped my hand over the corner of the table while muttering ‘touch wood’ to myself.

She continued, ‘In fact, it’s so often that his friends keep falling ill and he has no one to play with. Hence, I even told his friends’ parents to start them on Dabur Chyawanprash.’

I happened to notice that indeed Aditya seemed to be in good health. ‘If that is the case, I totally trust you, Simran. Go Adi, eat whatever you want!’ I tickled him and his peals of laughter filled the entire room with a wondrous rapture!

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This post is a work of fiction for an Indiblogger Campaign ‘A healthy child makes a happy home’

Not in the open

2014-11-18T15:14:00.000+05:30

“If you would have delayed bringing her here, she may not have survived,” saying so, the doctor walked out of the room towards the waiting area. Babli still lay unconscious and severely dehydrated – lips parched, eyes sunken and breathing rapid. The drops of the IV fluid slowly merged into her bloodstream, each drop slowly adding a little more life to her petite body.

In the hustle and bustle of the town hospital, Babli’s mother – seated on a wooden bench in the waiting area – wiped her tears with the corner of her saree. As Babli’s father and the doctor walked towards her, she stood up – eager to hear that her precious one had survived the severe bout of diarrhoea.

They had travelled miles from their village to reach this hospital, for the treatment of their only 5-year-old daughter. After exchanging a few questions with them, what the doctor related about her condition came as a shock to Babli’s parents.

‘Your daughter has just survived a severe infection. But do you know this could have been prevented? If only she would have used a toilet instead of defecating in the open.’

‘But everyone does it in the open in our village’, said Babli’s father.

‘What everyone does may not always be right Ramu. Passing stools in the open contaminates the soil and the water with germs. Kids, when exposed to this, can easily catch infections as well end up with worms in their tummy.’

‘Oh no! I wish we knew this earlier.’

‘Not only that, poor hygiene is one of the leading cause of deaths amongst children. And if you think of it this way – it is an avoidable cause. Can’t we do even this much for our precious ones? Give them better toilet facilities in schools & at home, teach them to wash hands properly after defecating, wash hands before & after eating and keep the surroundings clean.’

Ramu stood with his head low as he began to say, ‘Doctor, I cannot thank you enough for saving my daughter’s life. And I make a promise to you and to her today. The promise of better sanitation for my daughter, my whole family and my village too. No child in my village shall die for lack of hygienic toilet facility. I shall speak to my uncle in the Gram Panchayat and take this initiative ahead for the benefit of my entire village.’

‘Sure Ramu. In fact, HUL’s flagship sanitation brand ‘Domex’ currently runs the Domex Toilet Academy (DTA) programme for the same reason. They make toilets accessible and affordable for a number of villages. They also help us educate everyone about the benefits of clean toilets and good hygiene. What’s more, they are working hard to build 24,000 toilets in rural areas of India by 2015.

Babli’s mother too added with a sparkle, ‘I will discuss this with all the women of our village and we will pass this knowledge about hygiene to our kids. The school teacher is our friend and she will help us too.’

‘Well done Ramu and Rajjo. I will be proud of you if you can do this. And as far as Babli is concerned, she will be bubbling with joy once again, very soon.’

You too can bring about the change in the lives of millions of kids, thereby showing your support for the Domex Initiative. All you need to do is ‘click’ on the ‘Contribute Tab’ on this page and Domex will contribute Rs.5 on your behalf to eradicate open defecation, thereby helping kids like Babli live a dignified life.

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This is my submission for an Indiblogger Campaign #ToiletForBabli

Garnished with surprise!

2014-06-24T18:11:00.001+05:30

He was the one who normally cooked non-vegetarian food in their house, albeit not too often. Not that she didn’t know to prepare it, but simply because he liked it that way. Of course, she loved it too! Especially when he would go all the way to bring out their pristine Borosil dinner set, lay the table with all those pieces of glass bowls, plates, casseroles, tumblers, glasses and more!

“We’re just the two of us, honey” she would often exclaim but he paid no heed while decorating their red table-cloth with numerous pieces – he would simply turn around and flash that smile at her – one which would make her go weak in the knees, even after four years of marriage!

She savored watching his graceful movements in the kitchen as he cooked, as much as she relished the food cooked by him. Today, however, she felt like surprising him. She’d picked up chicken in the evening and decided to cook him a sumptuous non-veg meal.

She ran one final check of all the dishes before the doorbell rang. As she lifted the lid, the rich aroma of the chicken masala made her hunger pangs even more intense. An almost audible growl from her stomach made her giggle to herself. Perfectly golden brown, appetizingly loaded with just the right amount of masalas and piping hot, she picked one small piece of chicken to taste and it just melted in her mouth, tantalizing her taste-buds. Garnishing the masala-laden delicacy with fine-chopped coriander leaves, she secured the lid of the Borosil serving bowl, placing it on the table.

The richness of the rice-flour parathas cooked with ghee was evident in their softness. Off into the Borosil casserole went all the super-hot, soft, soft parathas that her husband immensely relished with gravy.

The chicken biryani was almost done too. The rice grains were tastefully cooked to perfection when she checked, the chicken flavor permeating every grain to release a lip-smacking aroma. She quickly fixed up the fresh green salad, some papad, his favorite boondi-raita and added a dash of lemon to the diced onions.

Just as she was about to call him on the phone, she heard the car pull into the driveway. Looking through the window pane, she saw him pull out of the car, with a small gift in his hand. She smiled coyly. He had a surprise for her, too!

Of choices made

2014-02-11T18:05:00.000+05:30

Seething fury for his cold indifference gave way to washed mascara.

‘My children need me’, he sealed her fate, walking away.

She’d given up her world for him. Pity, she lost him too.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge – Week 102. The challenge is to write exactly 33 words about love gone wrong. However, we are forbidden the usage of any of the following words:

Love

Sad

Tears

Wept

Heart

Pain

Soul cleansing

2013-12-06T20:38:00.004+05:30

His temple, a basin

where numerous travelers stopped by

to wash away their sins

with tears of repentance

that scald the soul.

The myopic

were obviously repelled

by the dazzle of the faucet.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Ninety-Seven. The prompt is to pen down 33 words that include the following - basin, myopic, dazzle.

Redemption

2013-11-23T11:57:00.001+05:30

   Without you, there's no grudge against life
   Yet without you, life is no life.
   Like a moth drawn to flame
   None is to blame...
My love finds redemption in none other than you!

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Ninety-Five. The challenge is to choose a word and use it three times in our 33 words. However, it must be either a verb, noun or adjective and the form of the word cannot change, it must appear exactly the same three times.

The word I've chosen (obviously) is 'life' but I'm unable to highlight it in bold currently (some weird tantrums thrown by my browser). So please bear with me and enjoy the post :)

The Race

2013-11-21T18:04:00.000+05:30

His heart thumping right into his mouth, he took a sharp turn out of the serpentine trail of slow-moving cars in the jam and turned into the dark alley on the left. He nervously kept looking back at the dark shadow following him and repeatedly muttered under his breath ‘Just a few more minutes please’.

Although it was past midnight, few of the houses continued to throw light onto the street. Glimpsing into his watch every few minutes, it appeared as though he was somehow trying to slow down the pace of time with this fruitless effort. The car suddenly screeched to a halt as he abruptly hit the brake when an injured puppy appeared in front of his car from nowhere. Mentally juggling with the idea of cursing the puppy or taking pity on it, he stepped out, lifted the puppy and quickly placed it inside his car to resume his journey.

Back at the bungalow, he searched fruitlessly for her in every nook and corner. Pacing across from room to room, he intermittently looked behind for the dark shadow but it was nowhere to be seen now. All he saw was the little puppy, limping slowly behind him.

Sweat trickling down his brow, he froze in his path for a moment, turned around and raced towards the terrace garden. ‘Honey, I got your medicines’, he shouted at her back but she made no move. As he approached her, he saw her lifeless body right besides the dried rose shrub she had once nurtured so lovingly – a painting of his smiling face clutched firmly to her bosom by her pulseless arm. The dark shadow had given him a few minutes but claimed her instead. The rose petals had lost out to the thorns this time.

The puppy slowly limped into his lap and put its head down to rest. A wounded leg, a wounded heart… united in pain. ‘You are my only companion’, he whispered to the puppy, gently kissing its forehead.

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This post (333 words) is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week 104. The prompt is to pen down 33-333 words using the third definition of the following word:

COMPANION (noun)
1: one that accompanies another : comrade, associate; also: one that keeps company with another
2 obsolete : rascal
3 a : one that is closely connected with something similar
b : one employed to live with and serve another.

Watch out

2013-11-08T23:09:00.001+05:30

Gods that bestow blessings abound.
I only ask dues for what's not sound.
So turn on your switch,
Give the bad a miss.
Escape me you cannot
It's your Karma, just watch out.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Ninety-three.

Buddhist cosmology tells of Trāyastriṃśa, or the Heaven of Thirty-Three gods, which rule over the human realm. The challenge this weekend is to write exactly 33 words about a god of your own devising that shares heaven with the other thirty-two gods.

Day or night?

2013-10-29T15:40:00.001+05:30

They all sought her to solve their problems.

Strong-willed, optimistic, an epitome of courage!

At the corner of her bed,

a tear-stained pillow cover boo grudgingly at her.

She’d forgotten to wash it, yet again.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge – Week 101. The challenge is to write a 33-333 word piece that includes the word ‘Boo’ in its third definition as follows.

boo

1 (interjection)

used to express contempt or disapproval or to startle or frighten

2 (noun)

a sound that people make to show they do not like or approve of someone or something

3 (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly

Soul-shattering

2013-09-14T01:34:00.004+05:30

Perturbed by your numbing presence that drills a hole in my soul, a painful shriek emanates from the depths only to be lost in you, once again.

Oh Silence, please speak to me!

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This post is in response to the Trifextra Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Five. The challenge is to write a 33-word piece using an 'apostrophe' - a figure of speech in which some absent or nonexistent person or thing is addressed as if present and capable of understanding.

Momentary Presence

2013-08-02T20:37:00.002+05:30

(Photo Credit: [ changó ] / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND )

Who are these strangers that cast a shadow on my life? Momentarily present, they changed my life, departed too soon, but left behind an everlasting, indelible mark on the canvas of my fate.

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This post is in response to Trifecta Writing Challenge Week Seventy-Nine. The prompt is the photograph posted above.

Unspoken Notions

2013-07-15T23:05:00.001+05:30

"Why don't you discard this plate? I've told you it's inauspicious to keep broken objects in the house."

"Maa it's just a crack in the plate, it's not broken. Besides, I don't want to ruin my entire cutlery set, courtesy of discarded pieces," she frowned, as she struggled to keep her tone low.

Letting go of an audible grunt, her mom stomped out of the kitchen muttering under her breath, utterly displeased at the stubborn genes that had got into her daughter.

As she fondly wiped the plate dry, her eyes moistened with memories of him. He would always insist on eating in this plate ever since he marred its beauty, much to her annoyance.

Suddenly one day, he was gone. No word, no phone call, no letter. She did everything under the sky to locate him, but destiny seemed to have different plans. Hope was lost on everyone else by now, especially since three long years had passed. She, however, could not let go of the last straw of hope, holding on to it, as one does for dear life.

Switching off the lights in the kitchen, she moved towards the pooja room to say her prayers for the day - prayers that often fell on deaf ears according to her. Abruptly, she made a halt in the passageway, as if struck by lightening. Turning back on her feet, she zipped into the kitchen and turned on the lights.

Lifting the plate from the drawer, she held it against her cheek feeling its deathly coldness, even as her tears kept streaming like water from a broken dam.

Crash!!

"What happened my child?" her mom frantically scurried into the kitchen, taking her into arms, as she stared at the shattered remnants of the plate on the floor.

"Nothing maa," she wiped her tears.

Inside of her, a faint voice whispered, "May be this will be auspicious. Just, may be..."

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Six.

On writing

2013-07-12T20:20:00.002+05:30

My process of writing, in little 3 words

Churn, erase, refurbish.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Six. The challenge is to pen down your writing process in just 3 words.

Not Done Yet

2013-06-21T21:08:00.001+05:30

Pills deserved to be fired for betrayal.
The tightened noose was powerless too.
The new concoction held the last ounce of promise.
Third time's a charm, he thought, as he dug her grave.

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This post is written in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Three. The prompt is to write exactly 33 words using the theme 'third time's a charm'.

Tug-of-war

2013-06-17T20:15:00.000+05:30

The rising decibels of the outside world were no match for the war raging inside her. Slouched on a sofa in one corner of this club, she wondered... To be or not to be. To stay or to leave. To make friends with the blinding darkness or to move on in search of light. To save her remaining sanity and run for life or to hold fast and let the storm pass. Would the storm ever pass? Or would it take away everything in its wake? Her quest for answers only won more questions.

‘Did I get too close for comfort?’, her words seemed to fade away in the deafening noise surrounding them.

He nailed the coffin with a ‘Yes’.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Two.

The prompt is to write a 33-333 words piece using the third definition of the following word:

CLUB

1a : a heavy usually tapering staff especially of wood wielded as a weapon
b : a stick or bat used to hit a ball in any of various games
c : something resembling a club
2a : a playing card marked with a stylized figure of a black clover
  b : plural but sing or plural in constr : the suit comprising cards marked with clubs
3a : an association of persons for some common object usually jointly supported and meeting periodically; also : a group identified by some common characteristic
  b : the meeting place of a club
  c : an association of persons participating in a plan by which they agree to make regular payments or purchases in order to secure some advantage
  d : nightclub
  e : an athletic association or team
4: club sandwich

Sweet Summers

2013-06-14T20:29:00.002+05:30

   Arm-in-arm
   On the sand
   Guzzling Breezers
   In a faraway land
   Sun-kissed cheeks
   Warm to kiss
   Hard to tell
   How much I miss.
   Your memories make my day
   Forever in my heart you'll stay.

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This post is a fiction-piece written for the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Two.

The challenge is to describe summer in exactly 33 words.