Success

Image courtesy: Google

A distant dream

reserved for the cream-

those chosen few;

was the success I knew.

The smile on my face

on darkest of days

like bright sunshine,

said success was mine.

A dizzy escalation

calling for celebration

of unfolding life new

was the success I knew.

A simple pleasure

I pursue at leisure;

a word, dot and line

said success was mine.

A final destination

permanent coronation

a hill top with a view,

was the success I knew

Shedding wilted and worn

for the new leaves born;

a growing vine

said success was mine.

My failures and learning

flames of hope burning

simple joys bursting seams,

life with success gleams.

Successfully completed the Ultimate Blog Challenge :)

Bottled Lullabies

Image Courtesy: BBC

It was well past bed-time as I tossed and turned, adjusted the pillows for a hundredth time, turned on the heater and waited with closed eyes hoping to smoothly drift away into sleep. When it remained elusive even after an hour of trying, I walked over to the window and stared aimlessly at the empty road, an occasional truck that passed by, the golden light from the street lamps and the cobbled footpath extending into infinite darkness.

Under the nearest lamp lay a bearded old man draped in what looked like the pitiful remnants of an ancient overused blanket, unperturbed by the noise of the trucks or the biting cold. He lay there in deep slumber under the watchful gaze of faraway stars. I sighed and reached for the bottle of pills that faithfully sang me sweet lullabies every single day.

This piece of five sentence fiction is written for the topic "Bed-Time" at Lillie Mc Ferrin Writes
Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Imprisoned

Image courtesy: Google

Prisoner of thoughts,
a mind-set that rots,
confined and trapped
by  beliefs strapped.
Unable to spill out
of fear and doubt,
secured by locks
the iron gate mocks
at my helplessness
clueless restlessness.
An eternal wait
for a turn of fate,
a saviour with a key
to set me free.
I kept waiting
hoping, berating
the confining lock
a mere mental block,
I worried without pause
about a lock that never was.

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Bitten

Image courtesy: B-A-R

I have been waiting for this night in persistent perseverance. I want the result to be spectacular, a neat job that would silence the harshest of critics. There is no one in this house but me and what the people of the house called “a kind of eeriness”, as if they were being watched.  Ha! Did they expect me to easily give up my abode for them? This has been my home for over a hundred years, the very place where I cast my mystical yellow glow, causing weird things to happen to the people of the house.

But now, I have task at hand. I wonder how this bug that normally bites just creatures like those in this house, dared to bite me. But now that I am a victim, my hands itch, my heart flutters, eyes glow and a wicked smile takes shape on my face. I really have to do it tonight and make sure everyone sees it. It has to be done in secret without feeling self-conscious, but by tomorrow I want the whole world to be spooked, to gape in astonishment, to acknowledge my presence. I will tell them in style that I have arrived. 

There is no time to waste. In utmost silence I pull it out and admire its cold metallic feel. Without further delay, I shoot myself and marvel at my very first selfie.

                                       

This post was written for the above picture prompt from Blog-A-Rhythm

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

I am Able

You see me on a chair with wheels,

feeling pity, wonder how it feels

to lead a life of dreary dependence

a life you feel is a forced penance.

You see just my disability

and think I wallow in self pity,

but aren't we all the same-

agile at many, at others lame?

You see me unable to see you,

darkness being my permanent view

and think I’m nothing without my cane

living a life of perpetual bane.

You see just my disability

and think I wallow in self pity,

sadly your eyes can’t see my mind

and its painted canvas one of a kind.

You see me unable to hear or speak;

a world without words you say is bleak,

never to be spoken to, never to be heard

my company you think is just absurd.

You see just my disability

and think I wallow in self pity,

but isn't it sad you need a word

to free thoughts caged like a bird?

You see just my disability

branding me a liability,

since we are all differently abled

can’t you spare me unlabelled?

Image Courtesy: Google

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Compare not

Image courtesy: Google

When they first saw the infant,

they spotted at that very instant

a squint of the eye, a scar on the thigh,

and deeply pondered why.

“The older one was fat and fair

with flawless skin and ample hair.”

they quipped in keen observation,

summarizing their evaluation.

Ensued a long, tiring journey

dodging and ducking their baloney;

comparisons many different kinds

conjured up in crooked minds.

Adolescence, youth, middle age;

the war never ceased to wage,

mediocre minds catching up

on stories of not matching up.

Isn't each one beautifully unique?

Do they deserve your hefty critique?

Pry open the windows of your mind

to new vistas, leaving comparisons behind.

Image courtesy: Google

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

The Evil Eye

Image courtesy: Google

You can see me here and there

a red faced demon with an ugly stare,

chillies and lemons on a thread,

as the evil eye all do dread.

A black dot on a toddler's face

or on any beautiful space;

I distract all negativity

cradling them within, in captivity.

I gather the evil glances

from eyes where jealousy dances;

guarding health and happiness,

prosperity and prettiness.

I wonder, this evil eye,

isn’t it just another big lie?

I’ve been getting it all along

but so far nothing’s gone wrong.

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Alone, not Lonely

Image Courtesy: Google

I have had many teachers in life who taught me valuable lessons – people, experiences, knowledge and so on. However I have a special teacher named solitude that helps me keep my balance in many tight rope acts. In today’s life that moves at an unprecedented maddening pace, there are times when we need to just sit back, be on our own and reflect up on our life and its course. Since our lives are overloaded with intellectual, social and emotional battles, it is imperative that we spend some time in solitude to get in touch with our inner selves.

The benefits of solitude are highly underrated because it is seen as an ally of the depressed and lonely if not the saints and hermits. Until a few years back I thought solitude and loneliness were synonymous. Prima facie they may seem to be the same as both involve being on one’s own. The similarity however, ends here. Loneliness is a forced negative feeling that can be experienced even if one is in a crowd. It implies the grief of isolation. But solitude is a choice made by the individual that involves being alone without feeling lonely. It is all about learning to enjoy one’s own company.

If cultivated as a habit, solitude is as refreshing as an oasis in the middle of a desert. It helps us to stay tuned with ourselves, our emotions and feelings. It keeps us balanced and helps us to maintain perspective apart from making us take charge of our own lives. Some of the benefits of solitude I continue to reap are:

1. Improved creativity: Being on my own in a silent place lets me delve deeper into my beliefs, thoughts and emotions and they find expression in the form of paintings, crafts, poems and articles.

2. Reflection upon actions: Solitude has a way of making me mull over my words and actions, analyse cause-effect relations there by giving me some kind of peace along with a sense of purpose.

3. Being touch with myself: My desires, fears, goals and so many other things about myself become clearer when the accompanying noises of day to day life become subdued. It helps me listen to my inner voice.

4.  I enjoy my own company: I have realized that I enjoy the company of myself as much as I enjoy being with friends and family. This, in a way has boosted my self-esteem.

5. Ideal foundation for new ideas: Solitude sparks new ideas and I find myself beginning a new hobby or doing things I previously never considered doing. It gives me that blank slate where I can paint a new picture.

6. More sensitivity: Being on my own with just my thoughts for company actually saves a lot of energy and heightens other senses. I often sit in the local park by myself where I enjoy the call of birds, the rustling of leaves and many other sights and sounds that I often overlook when in the company of people.

An hour or two of solitude a day for me is like an energy booster, almost as effective as meditation in calming down my nerves. It is my invisible refresh button, a chance to start afresh at any time during the day.



Written for the IndiSpire topic #Solitude

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Abandoned Forever

Image courtesy: Flickr

Meeting you after what seems like an eternity, I can’t help revisiting those days together when we seemed to be truly made for each other. You offered me your entire existence in utmost surrender, your love was intoxicating and I in turn was faithful to the core.

Now, my heart leaps in joy and desperately hopes for a reunion just like the days before I abandoned you. You look just the same, except for the missing golden glow that added to your irresistible beauty.

I wish I could reach out to you to recreate that magic again but unfortunately I have promised my son never to smoke again.

This piece of five sentence fiction is written for the topic "Abandon" at Lillie Mc Ferrin Writes
Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Unspoken

Image courtesy: Google

When I say I am glad to meet you
and share a handshake too
I often do wonder
what I really want to say.

When I say I feel desired

by your heart so admired

I often do wonder

how I really want to feel.

When I join you everywhere

like a cute little teddy bear

I often do wonder

what I really want to do.

When I seem so flattered

by words that hardly mattered

I often do wonder

what I really want to hear.

When from my memory I fish

out your most favourite wish

I often do wonder

what I really want to remember?

When my love for you wanes

like the dryness when it rains

I often do wonder

what is it I really want to say?

This post is written for the Wordy Wednesday prompt “What is it that I really want to say?”  by Blog-A-Rhythm:

Linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

and http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

                                           

The Goddess

Image courtesy: Google

Strange are the ways of our society,

stained with sins yet preaches piety.

Women worshiped akin to God

yet for a little space, made to slog.

Daughters educated for a fine match,

confined within the matrimonial patch.

“Be ambitious competent and bold

yet meek and homely” they’re told

Widows burnt alive, paraded

their lives considered faded,

the childless with  a womb cursed

survive a living hell, lips pursed.

Glorified as an incarnation of God,

over her dreams and feelings they trod.

Don’t mistake her silence for weakness,

see the strength behind her meekness.





Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

The Last Wish

Image courtesy: Google

As my life slowly slips away

I wish I had one more day

to make you listen with your heart

though it sure is a very late start.

I have nothing left but a few beats

of a tender heart that painfully bleeds

and a thousand thoughts never shared

for you were busy and not once cared.

The rare moments you were all ears

I poured out my heart and fears;

you thought they were silly, absurd

and didn't utter a single word.

I shared my life all these years

with one who just heard with ears,

did you listen my love, with your heart

to my last few words, as we part?

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Silver Linings

Image Courtesy: Google

In the gloom cast by a grey cloud

I sought the rainbow over the shroud

of the morning mist; I waited to see

and feel the kiss of the glorious sun on me.

Through the tears of failure that I shed,

I saw new horizons awaiting my tread,

knocking at my door; my lucky stars

said to me, “This too shall pass.”

Lost in the parched dryness of a desert

alone, I sought the companion within me,

a friend for life; not once I cried

but to build my heaven in hell, I tried.

In freezing winters, the pure white snow,

in austere autumns, the fiery glow

the warmth of summer, the colours of spring

I sought that silver lining in everything.

I chose not to wail, whimper and weep
piling my woes into a humongous heap;
the key to my happiness is no mystery
as I only see what I choose to see.

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

The Words Within

Image courtesy: Google

It’s a simple kind of pleasure

that brings joy beyond measure,

call it a hobby, a new interest

that effortlessly brings out my best.

No, it’s not work as some say

as it doesn't pay, to their dismay;

recognition and  promotions

alone mark the career of their notions

I churn out words from me

and words in turn set me free

they make me content everyday;

I’ll never stop come what may!

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

The Offering

Image courtesy:Google

With hope in her heart, she climbed uphill to the temple that had given her solace for two long years after her daughter went missing at that very place. Walking past the familiar sights of beggars lined up along the path and hawkers selling idols, trinkets and flowers that people gave as their offering to please their deity, her eyes resumed their quest for one particular face.

A tiny girl with a tear stained face in tattered clothes walked up to her and tugged at her sari, pleading for alms. Normally she never paid heed the dirty creatures and their calls, but not today.

As a strange kind of realisation snipped off the threads of hope that had held her shattered self together she quietly placed the offering food and money meant for the lifeless idol, on the girl’s palms and proceeded downhill.

P.S- This is my first attempt at Five Sentence Fiction.

This piece of five sentence fiction is written for the topic 'Offering' at Lillie McFerrin Writes.

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Also linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Gratitude

Image courtesy: Google

The air in my lungs and food on my plate

that have come with remarkable ease till date,

a roof over my head to shield me from harm,

a collection of clothes to keep me warm,

clean water, accessible, to quench my thirst,

sound sleep even on days that seem the worst;

for my barest of needs that have always been met,

to you I am grateful life; I’ll be forever in debt.

A healthy body and mind, a family of my own,

means to earn bread with skills I've always known,

for being part of society, for the things I've kept;

for this security I’m grateful and forever in debt.

The affection and care of family and friends,

an intimate relation and the warmth it sends,

people in my life who I can never forget;

for these loving ties I'll be forever in debt.

The faith in myself and a spirit resolute,

gestures that shower me with respect absolute,

accolades for achievements born from my sweat;

for this unique identity, I'll be forever in debt.

My needs for life are all being met,

inadequacies in them I haven't found yet;

among the lucky few to be fully equipped to grow,

my golden cup of gratitude will soon overflow.

P.S: This poem was inspired by Maslow’s hierarchy of needs that illustrates various levels of human needs. Self-actualisation or the need to realise one’s potential and become the most one can be, is right at the top, coming into the picture only if other basic needs are met. I realised that very few of us are actually at the top of the pyramid, in a position to explore our creativity and experience purpose and meaning in what we do. I am grateful for that. Being there, how many of us are actually exploring the hidden wealth within?

Read more about Maslow's hierarchy of needs here.

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

The World Within My Blanket

Image courtesy: Google

“Shhhhhh…..give me your hand and haul yourself into my world quietly. It is a tender, delicate world in here, under the cosy comfort of my blanket. It is a magical world that you will soon find is too good to be true. I love making new friends, and I’m glad tonight it is you. Come into my world beneath the warm folds of my star studded blanket. A world I have created just to invite friends over and share my fascinating tales. I love telling stories. Be my guest tonight and allow yourself to be enchanted by the beauty of my world.

I am like any ordinary 10 year old girl you can imagine. I live with my parents and little brother in a wonderful house by the brook.  My parents think I’m a kid but I think I’m quite grown up; at least enough to understand all that happens around me. Under the starry blanket, the sky of my world, I live a happy life with a loving family and many friends.

My parents, you know are the best in the world. My classmate Liz says they look beautiful and warm. My brother and I mean the world to them. Both of them are doctors, the kind who speak to people about their problems and try to fix them. I thought only God could do that, from above the twinkling stars. Don’t you think that’s a cool thing to do? No matter how busy they are, they spend a lot of time with us. A lot. We often go on picnics, to the movies, the circus and once in a year we go by plane to a faraway place. We play together, have fun, invite my friends over, cuddle up and read books, go fishing and do so many things together.

My dad and mom I think are the best of friends. Sometimes I feel they are in love! Like the older kids in my school. They hold hands and talk a lot. But what makes my friends jealous is that they never yell at each other or go mad at me. I can tell them my fears and even share some secrets. They listen. They would do anything to keep me happy, I’m sure. Dear friend in my blanket, don’t you think they’re awesome? Hold my hand and tell me you’d love to have a family as great as mine. I really hope you do."

---------------------------

Outside, I hear the click of a door. I poke my head out. Dad is home. I strain my ears to catch the tiniest of whispers. But I don’t have to. The familiar yells, clattering of china, a few sobs, menacing threats and a flow of words I had been asked never to mouth, pulled me out of my blanket sewn with stars. The world outside my world was so different. Which one is real? I don’t want to know. I disappear into the reassuring warmth of my blanket and pull it tightly around me. It is such a beautiful world in here.

Image courtesy: Google

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

The Calling

Image courtesy: Google

I wish to be a farmer

wielding a rake and a hoe

or even teach grammar

and other things I know.

A writer, I’d be happy to be

in a wonderful world of words,

as a traveller, the world I’d see

jungles, canyons and flocking birds.

A singer, an athlete, a scientist

I know I have it in me,

a magician, an actor even an artist-

the options are endless you see.

But I’ll be told when I grow

it is all about the money,

to reap I’ll have to wisely sow;

grown-ups sometimes act funny!

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

Henpecked!

Image courtesy: Google

To my dear henpecked husband,

No I don’t intend to insult you, unlike our society ever ready with many tags that aim to degrade you, to question your testosterone levels and to reinforce its archaic, misogynistic beliefs on you so as to snub out the slightest glimmer of hope for change. To me the word “henpecked” brings renewed hope, and pride in having a partner who truly cares and believes in equality ignoring the rants and grunts of people around. A partner who dares to stand by his convictions least affected by society’s screwed up ideas of what makes a man “man enough”.

You are special my dear henpecked husband, a rare gem among a million “Indian men” out there. You actively share the boring house hold chores making them a fun activity. I can freely ask you to do the dishes without having to feel guilty (mama’s boys don’t do house work, it is meant for girls) or to press my legs when they ache. Of course you too seek my help with office work and other things.

I like it that you don’t sit snugly, propped up by pillows, watching T.V with other men while I prepare tea or clean up. I have never had to scream in my head “You are the host too!” when we have had guests. I feel loved, my presence in your life respected, when you never follow the “let men eat first” rule and make sure we eat together. You are the man of my dreams, for whenever there have been little sacrifices, they have been mutual.

Domestic chores thanks to you don’t get pushed into “woman’s domain” in our house. It is our home so together we work to keep it clean. We all feel hungry so we think nothing of sharing kitchen work. We are both educated having thoughts of our own, our own interests and ambitions. We defend and safe guard them for each other. I want you to know my henpecked hubby, that I love it that you don’t interfere in my career choices. You realize that beyond the umpteen roles I juggle, there is another me, just me with dreams and desires for myself. So do I. I promise you we will do what we love to.

Much to the displeasure of our society, you love to spend time with my parents as much as yours and realize how important it is for me to know that they are happy and well. And because you are special, you don’t expect to be showered with gifts and given a lot of importance by my family just because of your Y chromosome. You involve me in the decision you take and the choices you make.

I am truly blessed to be holding your hand in life knowing for sure that you’re real with all your imperfections. A real person with emotions that are not locked up in false perceptions about manhood (men don’t cry) with ambitions whose reasons stretch beyond the need to be a provider to the family. Love, this, let me say, is what I find most appealing in you.

These you may feel are too trivial to be written about, but I have no words to tell you about the solace they bring. It is not very easy to be a twenty first century- married- Indian -woman(feminist) with a career. It is like living in a pressure cooker forever. Those who yield to the pressures and live a life of conformity may seem to be happy, but the compromises they endure for the make-believe peace sets off a turbulent storm in their heads that rages for a lifetime.

So be proud of that label dear husband, go ahead and flaunt it.

Your Happy Hen ;)

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Queen of my Heart

Image courtesy: Google

The balm to my soul, my mother

like your soothing presence, there’s no other,

your loving smile and precious tears

string together memories for a thousand years.

So special is the love we share

that with ease our hearts we bare

to each other, lifting heaviness

wiping weariness, ushering happiness.

A child again cradled in your arms

absorbed, enchanted by your charms,

I want to sleep undisturbed once more

loved, caressed, wanted like never before.

The world may change within a blink

snapping apart many a strong link;

do remember, queen of my heart

even death cannot make us part.

P.S: I fall short of words to express my love for my mother, the woman who taught me to be soft yet strong, simple yet beautiful in my own way. The miles that separate us physically is a painful exaggeration of the distance between our hearts. She is the definition of pure, unselfish love.

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

Foe to Friend

Image courtesy: Google

I nestled quiet and sleeping

in the deep darkness soothing,

blissful oblivion of awakening light

nurturing slumber in a permanent night.

Rays that enlightened I feared,

unending darkness I cheered.

My formidable foe clad in colours of light

once came knocking at my door shut tight.

“Darkness  my friend, lend a hand!”

my cries echoed in the surrounding sand

where I lay, a dormant seed

an ignorant, insignificant bead.

Blinded soon by a beam so bright

I watched helpless, a losing fight;

the miracle brought joy in the end

of turning foe into a friend.

In the warm embrace of bright rays

of knowledge, promising meaningful days,

I danced and swayed in sheer bliss

of a new found friend’s loving kiss.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/
and http://ultimateblogchallenge.com/ 

Unscarred

Image courtesy: Google

I watched you walk away jilted

your face hung low and wilted,

I chose to keep you away

setting your thoughts in disarray.

I believed I had a choice

I was polite and made no noise,

it was my life, my decision;

that upset your planned precision.

But you came back unexpected

to show me you were dejected,

with a few drops of acid you spoke

and burnt my dreams down to smoke.

Brave, the warrior in me fought,

you thought I’d give up, distraught?

I battled the bruise and the blister

unwilling to succumb to the disaster.

I am not the body you scarred

whose features you savagely charred,

survives my spirit, strong as ever

keeping me bold and beautiful forever.





Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/
and http://ultimateblogchallenge.com/ 

My Home away from Home

Image courtesy: Tumblr

It is difficult to tell you my story without choking on my words and wetting my eyes. Nevertheless I’ll give it a try. I am an ordinary person just like you. I dream, hope love and want to be loved, just like you. Aged twenty, I live with a group of like-minded people whose stories are different from mine, yet astonishingly similar if you care to pay a closer look.

I always knew I was different. Of course, we are all different, that’s not what I mean. I was different in a way people found unsettling and imperfect. Have you ever wondered what it is like to feel and think like a woman but to be expected to behave like a man because of a cruel, sadistic game of fate? I doubt it. Well, I was intimidated beyond measure that I wanted to shrink to the size of a speck of dust and freely fly around unnoticed.

I may have looked like a man but I always wanted to be a woman; I am a woman. My parents never understood me; I feel they never tried to. To them I was a cursed lump of flesh that grew in my mother’s cursed womb just to bring shame and ill-luck to the family. Taunted, teased, bullied and assaulted, I was the tip of many a rude joke. The wounds family and society inflicted mercilessly on me still feel fresh and the pain, searing.

Unable to bear it any longer, I fled with no particular destination in mind. I began my journey of escape. I soon found people like me and I can’t explain the relief I felt to be taken into their fold, to be seen as part of family. They took care of my needs, taught me how to earn a living and loved me for what I was. I find it strange that my own family saw me as a stranger but a group of strangers made me a part of their family. This was where I belonged, before my soul lost its way and entered the lump of flesh in my mother’s womb by a fateful error.

For the first time in my life, I felt at peace. It felt good to be back home, away from home.

This post was written for the IndiSpire prompt
Write a story ending with "..... It felt good to be back home."#MyStory

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/
and http://ultimateblogchallenge.com/ 

Palette of Colours

Image courtesy: Google

My white is your black

your strengths, I lack,

My fairy tale is your nightmare

about things you ignore, I care,

What I want to have, you don’t

become like you, I won’t.

The reason for my smile

brings you tears that run a mile,

What you’re proud about,

if I have in me, I doubt.

Your tastes are miles from mine

But I find no reason to whine

We'll accept each other,

in our palette add more colour.

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge