#fridayfotofcition: #week 11 Valuable? Grandpa gifted the typewriter to her on her 40th. He was an acclaimed author of 11 books. On plants and diseases, on the Green Revolution that had taken the country by storm in the early 60s. He had stayed awake many moons, painstakingly typing all the research and work. The typewriter had been his true companion. A gift from the Viceroy of Bengal and a real piece of treasure. She stood haggling at the…
#FRIDAYfotofiction #week 10 UNREQUITED The mist rolling tea gardens always transported Arpita to another world. A world, where there were no worries, just gaiety, playful abandon, enveloped in the love of Ma-Baba, Aboni Kaka and Junmoi Didi who managed the sprawling estate home with perfection. The gardens were a family heirloom, nurtured over decades. Ma-Baba were no more. She had moved overseas with her Dutch husband and had just returned to sell the glorious property. Arpita bid a tearful adieu…
#Fridayfotofiction: #week 9 freedom The unabated snow wasn’t making it any easier. We had migrated to a warmer climate. Here the woods were dark and dense. A thicket of flora covered the forest. The sun barely pierced it’s way through. But it felt safer and cosier. We thought we were sorted for this winter. Little did we know that the devious ones were on the prowl. Before we knew it we were captured and taken straight to the pets market. The…
#ALLABOUTME #BLOGCHALLENGE #10DAYYOUCHALLENGE 2 SONGS Another of the tough task to list just two favourite songs, but then a challenge is a challenge so here I go. Will do justice to both English and Hindi music. Sometimes When We Touch by Dan Hill. This was one of the earlier songs dedicated to me by the DH, when we were dating. It’s such a heart-rending song. My heart still skips a beat when I hear it. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IATz8ZVTALo) Iktaara from Wake up…
#FridayFotoFiction: #Week8 BARREN A vacuous air of silence had enveloped Deerwood drive. The benches were lying barren. Not a bird in sight, let alone people. A disaster had befallen upon this lovely clearing. A bunch of cold hearted miscreants had ruthlessly massacred the visitors of this park-octogenarians, children, lovers, joggers, dogs and their walkers and many others. This ironically happened on a bright, sunny day. Now all that remained was a crestfallen, silent and deserted Autumn patch. No gleeful children,…