An Advice

                                                            

She had gotten married early. Circumstances demanded that. 

It didn’t give her much scope to pursue higher education. 

Though she started working but wasn’t satisfied with her work profile. 

I could always feel the discontent in her voice. That’s when I had suggested her to read and also write. 

She had laughed at my advice in the beginning. But then with slow and steady steps she ventured into this amazing world of writing. 

Basking in it’s aura. 

Feeling it’s warmth. 

Getting lost in it’s vastness. 

But never complaining. 

As writing introduced her to a world full of surprises and excitement.

                                          

Pic : Google Images

Linking up the post with Write Tribe's 100 words on Saturday   

Prompt : Write about a time you gave someone good advice about writing and/or blogging.

Try...

                                                                       

“Exciting, don’t you think it would be really exciting”

“Well, who knows what it has got in store for us”

“Whatever, we can at least give it a try”

“But, they said it wasn’t worth the time and energy”

“Is it necessary that they are correct?”

“I agree still I feel we can rely on their opinion. After all they have experienced it first”

“But who knows what they had expected from it. They might be having a prejudiced mindset and that doesn’t help anybody. It isn’t always about the moments but also about the heart that beats with it”

                                   

Pic: Write Tribe

Linking up the post with  100 words on Saturday Write Tribe

Sometimes...

                                                               

                

Today wasn’t great. Nor was yesterday. He had no idea about the future ones.

His hands shivered. Mouth dried up. Vision got blurred and mind went blank.

He felt burdened.

As though it wasn’t a circumstance but a big hole dragging him deeper inside.

His struggles were in vain. 

Neither repaying nor repairing.

He felt like a piece of junk. Abandoned in an old filthy garage.

Folding his palms together, he knelt down.

Prayers trickling down on his cheeks.

And suddenly everything felt, alright when he remembered his mother’s voice whispering “Sometimes you just have to leave it on HIM”

                                    

                                           

Linking up the post with Write Tribe's 100 Words on Saturday

Left Over

I had lost everything. 

So had he.

Devastated I waited for mother nature to take me in her arms and annihilate me, just like my loved ones.

Devoid of belongings and belongingness, I roamed around like a paronoid surviving like those last drops of water in a blazing hot summer day, feeling empty and purposeless.

But fate, it never abandons those, whose time hasn’t come.

It pulls, it pushes and it drives us to our desired destinations.

That’s when I met him. My companion, a blue coloured moped,  who was a leftover too.

And together we renamed survival as life. 

                           

Linking up the post with Write Tribe's 100 words on Saturday

Image courtesy : Write Tribe

Easy...

# Day 4 Write Tribe Festival Of Words

“It’s not that easy you know”

“It should never be, when it is, it’s not the worth”

“But ….it has left me with a pungent feeling that still clings on to my mind leaving me vulnerable at the most awkward moments turning me into an object that can only absorb but can not reflect. It may have been suppressed but nobody can apprehend when it would pop up it’s ugly head taking me into it’s grasp again, uncertainty that’s the most certain character of any mental disorder” she said furrowing her brows displaying her deep concerns about the step he was asking her to take.

“ I understand dear, I totally do, what I was just trying to say  is how pestering circumstances may be always remember, there’s a new door out there, waiting to get unlocked bringing in  a dash of fresh air” he said holding on to her palm making her feel reassured.      

                                     

          

Linking up the Post with Five Sentence Fiction - Fresh and Write Tribe for Day 4 of The Festival Of Words " Idea : Be Human"

                                               

                                              

The Morning Cuppa

# Day 3 for Write Tribe Festival Of Words # 4

The mind is blank,

So are my thoughts,

Eyes just stare into the sky,

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry,

Overwhelmed they say I have gotten,

Worrying too much

Reacting often.

I know it’s wrong but can’t I just be

Someone I want to see                                                        

Though I have waited all these while

But never received in return a smile.

It’s only for the first few hours

Then nobody,

Not a single one cares.

Even I have wishes

I have expectations

To get adored

To feel loved.

But it’s only she who gets,

All the attention

And levels up my stress.

It seems as though I do not exist

Even when it’s me who holds the gift

The gift mankind has been gifted with

Well may be by chance

But it’s not a myth.

It’s something you savor

Go crazy if you don’t find her

As if she’s the only one who reliefs your life

Forgetting that I too strike a chord

Holding her with my strong arms.

Giving her the support

Letting her stand

Burning myself with her warmth,

For you to feel the morning chill

To live every moment

To enjoy the trill.

It’s great that you adore her dear

At least give me a look that you care

Coz it’s Us who make you alive

Brushing off your stress

Rejuvenating your life.

I hope someday you

Fulfill my wishes

And

Shower some love
On Me....

Your old forgotten,
Morning Cup


                                   

                                     

Linking up the post with Write Tribe Festival Of Words 

                                               

Clouds...

# Day 2   Write Tribe Festival Of Words # 4

Anjali stood in the balcony, feeling the cool morning air and looking at the white topped building that was almost invisible just like her future according to her family.

“Do you even have an idea about what you are trying to say ?"

"It’s a hobby, limit it to a hobby, don’t dare to make it a profession. Diverting your way from the traditional paths is not going to help either of us in any way” she remembered  her mom spelling out those stern words.

“I know it wouldn’t be easy, still it would be worth the risk” she thought as sun rays splashed colors on the faint blue sky clearing away clouds of inhibition. 

                                                   

                                      

                                               

                             " Take A Step Towards Creativity And A Journey Would Start "

                  Linking up the post with  Five Sentence Fiction...Diversion  and  Write Tribe

                                                     

It Remained....

                                    # Day 1   Write Tribe Festival Of Words #4


It was there. In the corner. On a white colored ceramic tile with few blue stripes. It remained there. Unmoved. Undisturbed. As if born to be forever, together. It seemed as if an undeclared bond has been created. Between the both. Like the gum and the paper.

I had no idea what it were thinking. But definitely I was. About the owner who abandoned it, unknowingly may be. How she had hurried yesterday night. Before leaving for her home.

The sweat drops that settled on her nostrils attracted me more than anything else. Her purple colored pendant matched with her watch. The watch which somebody had gifted, on her birthday she was telling to a friend. She wasn’t able to talk much in the beginning. Surprisingly the opposite happened as the evening progressed. Her laughter tinkered across the room. As if it was only she who was present. Or it was just me who felt so. The music, the cuisine, the chatter, the dance everything made the party so special. Particularly for her, being her first. Also for me. Being my most adorable.

They say if lady luck starts smiling she doesn’t stop. She giggles. And that’s what had happened. The party has been long over. She has left. So have others. But something remained. That only I could sense and feel. Luckily, all alone. It dazzled even now. As it did on her. Through the entire evening. Making her shine.  

And it was there. On the ceramic tile with few blue stripes.Beside the mirror. 

Letting me relive. The moments. The thrills. The attraction. The longing. I smiled, thinking how silly we humans can be. Ignoring people right beside us and remembering ones from their left overs. But what can we do. We are helpless. In the hands of emotions. That ties us even with remnants, if it wants to. And here it was something very unique that transformed me back into the evening of yesterday and let me bath in her aura again. What if it’s just a small bindi. 

                                        

Pic : Google Images

Linking up the post with Write Tribe's Festival of Words # 4

"Creativity" it is all around us....we just need to feel it. 

This post was inspired from a bindi left in my bathroom by my aunt who had visited me few days ago:):)

That Day....

The tinkling of the temple bells reverberated around. Waking up sleepy eyes. Dragging lazy souls. Compelling stubborn ones to get ready. For school. For colleges. For offices. For hospitals. 

For life. And for livelihood. 

That's how the day began. Almost every time. Showing minimal chances of changing. But this is life . It can change. Any moment. Any instant. Without giving the slightest hint.

And that's what happened . On a Monday morning. After a steamy cup of green tea.

The clouds slowly drifted apart. Giving space for morning rays to fill in. The dark brown curtains gently brushed aside with the crimson colored book rack. Books new and old peeped in for a loving glimpse of their admirer, their friend, their beloved. Who finds peace inside their pages and life along with them. 

At a distance. Bit far. Smoke rose up. Building circles in the air. And also curiosity. There sat someone basking in the morning sun. Trying to ward off chilly winds. His eyes fell on him. An old man. Homeless. A regular in the locality. His vision traveled a bit far. Towards a roof. With half built steps. A broken doorway. Languishing alone. Just like him. He thought. Making a creaky sound with every undesired move.

The vision traveled still afar. Crossing the coconut tress. Crossing their curvy bodies. Ignoring the play of sunshine between their leaves. Just giving it a thoughtful moment like a soft caressing.

It traveled further ahead. To a land unknown. Or known. A land concealed. Or revealed. A land that existed or may be not. A land where stood a beautiful house. With walls painted. Like the colors of a rainbow. Purple. Red. Yellow. Green. With stripes of white adoring it. At the edges and near the window sills. With a small balcony on the first floor. Not too small indeed. Enough for spending sometime. Alone. Without a company, neither to question nor seek answers. A corner. Peaceful one. Bejeweled with flowers. Same like the walls. Purple. Red . Yellow. And leaves, Green. Hanging freely on the pots. That seemed to enjoy the company of the breeze. Swinging in and out, along with it. Carefree. Unworried. Jealousy engulfed his mind. Questioning. Why is he trapped inside the never ending world of success and failure. Seizing his every moment. Clutching him. Unlike the flowers.

“A gift awaits you” someone spoke. “Where” he asked

“Within”.

And he sat down. On the bamboo chair. Relaxing himself a bit. Feeling the air around. Feeling the sunshine. Blank sheets of paper chuckled on the table. And the silver colored pen rolled nearby. To feel his finger tips.

“Abhi” a voice floated from the other room. “I think you are getting late”.

“Not today” he mumbled “at least” with a curvy smile that drifted his lips slightly apart, creating a dimple below the lower one.

And the tinkling of the bell reverberated around. May be from a land that exists. 

 Pic : Google Images

For Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt " Creativity " 

 “Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine, and at last, you create what you will” – George Bernard Shaw
 

As The Sleepy Night....

As the sleepy night,                                                     

Creeps into deep slumber,

Reclusive obscure thoughts,                                             

Awaits to get unveiled,

Through poems through fables,

Through fictional stories,

Reliving their lives,

Rinsing off old worries,

They commingle together,

 Linking up unknown strands,

Filling in colours on canvass,

As if blessed with a magic wand,

Rhymed unrhymed,

Facts concealed in fiction ,

Display unmatched flair  ,

Words drenched in emotions,

Words drenched with care.

                                                 

 Pics : Google Images

Linked up with Write Tribe Problogger 

Waste to Wonderful....

Few easy to steps to make a ready to use pen stand from waste.

Step 1.

Step 2  

                                                             Step 3

                                                                 

Step 4

Final Step and we are now ready to use the pen stand.....

So, how is it....hope you guys like it :):)

Explore....

Why are we bound in confines,

As if committing a horrendous crime.

Do look around,

And explore,

The trees sway,

The clouds galore.

Asking us to never relinquish,

Our dreams our aspirations,

Our honest wish.

Pics: Sushree

Linked up with Write Tribe's Problogger.

Writing is its own reward.....

The  room was filled with books arranged in a neat manner. Speaking not only amongst  themselves but also about the possessor.

A man of thin built and advanced age emerged  behind the curtains after some time.

As he settled down for the interview, the young journalist interviewing him was impressed by his witty replies.

But the answer that really struck her was to this particular question where she wanted to know his feelings after receiving the award.

In a calm voice he answered “What can I say about my feelings after receiving this award, when writing is it’s own reward.”

Image: Google Images

For Write Tribe's ......

I am writing after quite some time and this quotation simply speaks out for me. Thank you WT for being the constant inspiration for bloggers :)

Those Memories .....

I visited Andaman and Nicobar islands few years back with my family and was taken aback by the beauty the island beholds . I am sharing that feeling with you ....hope you people like it :) Though I have more photos but right now I can just share two of them

They welcomed me ,

Those bountiful waves

Vibrant vivid full of life ,

Wiping off my moments of stress .

They engulfed me ,

Those long coconut trees

Between their curvy bodies

Between their striking leaves .

They surprised me ,

Those tiny little crabs

Running as fast as they can

On the white slippery sand .

They entrapped me

Those dead numb corals

Inside their treacherous body

That seemed like a different world .

It mesmerized me ,

The unflinching spirited wind

That blew my heart away

In an eye’s blink .

They filled in me

A gloominess that denied to get away ,

Even after a numerous times I cried ,

Those walls of cellar jail ,

That stands witness to untold stories ,

Stories of courage , stories of dare ,

Stories of a country’s lost sons ,

Whose lives weren’t spared ,

For the ruler was the ruler ,

And swaggered the ruled .

They bewitched me

Those sublime blue waters .

To write about them

My pen simply falters .

It was the best holiday

That I ever had

In a tiny serene island

That still makes me glad .

We boarded it for our visit to Havelock island from Portblair which is an amazing place

A view of the jail in night .


This post is linked with Write Tribe's Wednesday Prompt 2014 #19