My Thoughts on Seeing This Prompt: Yikes! I’m not going to write this one. It looks dark, gloomy and will not elude a great story. But then I haven’t written for my favourite Friday Fictioneers for the past two weeks. I was away traveling, and when I returned I got swamped by life’s little follies. I’m back this week armed with lots of cheer and sunshine on my shoulder. So let me give this a shot. Let’s see how it…
Yes, “Been there, Doon that!” Doon here reads as Dehradoon, the quaint, little city nestled in Uttarakhand’s, Himalayan Doon valley, about 30 kms away from the popular hill station, Moussourie. Recently I was at Dehradoon for the Valley of Words 2017, an international literature and arts festival that was held in partnership with IndiBlogger. Indiblogger is a proactive blogging community that abides by the philosophy Blog Now, Live Forever #BNLF. Those three days at Dehradoon, attending some thought provoking sessions…
It’s Monday morning. The toast just got burnt. The cleaning lady calls in sick. As Adil and I bolt towards the bus stop, we see the bus chugging away.
Khalil Gibran, On Joy and Sorrow Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed…
So what’s that thing about winters; that special thing that a few of us love to love, and many love to hate? Do you ever wonder what could it be?
It’s a rare, sunny morning in Chicago. That special kind of morning when the sun streams right on to your shoulders, and your spirits are simply soaring. “What a memorable work trip,” thinks Sonia smugly. “I’ll grab a bite and then binge shop at Bloomingdales.” She turns around to eye the building. A gorgeous hunk stumbles into her, knocking some coffee on her brand new dress. Sonia gapes at his steel, blue eyes; mesmerised, not one bit upset….
“Sometimes When We Touch” You ask me if I love you And I choke on my reply I’d rather hurt you honestly Than mislead you with a lie And who am I to judge you On what you say or do? I’m only just beginning to see the real you And sometimes when we touch The honesty’s too much And I have to close my eyes and hide I wanna hold you till I die Till we both break down…
The party was swinging. Toasts were being raised and glasses clinked. Doff had won an Oscar. His head started to reel. Wasn’t the Jagerbombs! The thought of rigging the awards haunted him like a banshee. Suddenly the room folded flat around him. @@@@@@@@@@@@ Written as part of #MicroMondays, hosted by the gorgeous couple, Varad of Loose End Of The Thread and Namratha of Namy Says So. Each week we are given a set word count…
The Holiday season was around the corner. The decked up stores were buzzing with shoppers galore. As “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” played in the background, cheery people gallivanted around with a spring in their feet. Some with two left feet even did a happy jig, with not a care in the world. Children in their pretty attires preened and pranced around their mommies, while they shopped. The shoppers were busy checking out almost every store; each offering hefty…
Yet again!!!! A prompt that gives me thirty minutes to write what’s top of my mind, well that’s no complex feat, I suppose. I’ve been seeing innumerable gratitude prompts and posts off late. And my inner child has been prodding me to put together one such post. After all, I haven’t written one in a while. And don’t we all know that when we express gratitude, immeasurable benefits come multiplying in to our lives. Also what better way to say…