Winter woods

Lonesome tree, withering in winters, almost dead, beneath that misty grey shroud, surviving with summer in its heart and sighing with h...

Friday, March 23, 2012

A lovely life ...

“There’s nothing cute about it,” he said. The register of his voice indicated decision more so than discussion.

She disagreed heartily and privately, staring past his head and out the window behind him.

Ever since Maria's loss her son had not been his normal self. He was alive but not whole.

"Life is too lovely to be wasted away", she said at length in mere whispers.

In response to Trifextra - Week Nine



Loud and aloud,
Came the voice from deep down.
Go for it, this is your chance
To rhyme and reason and dance

I listened to it like every time I did
Not looking back to check
Any malice if it hid

Yes, I had heard the voice
The very loud and clear instinct
Like Some guardian guiding me
Some God giving me hint

The voice had been firm
And so had been the sound
I wonder who spoke
I wonder which friend I found

And then I realized
It was my own voice
Telling me not to give up
To make a right choice

The voice was loud and clear
Not frail and weak
Wherefrom had it received
The strength it always did seek

Gracious eternally, I listened to the sound
And everytime I did so,
Happiness is all I found.

Submitting this entry for Five Minute Friday.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Sales, shopping and we

The usual Sunday morning began with a hot and steaming cup of tea over a heap of newspapers; two English and two Hindi.

But there was something that was unusual about that day.

"Mamma, there is a sale at Kiran Emporium, beginning tomorrow", shouted my usually calm and quiet sister.
An equally astonishing reaction came from my mother, working in the kitchen. Her mind had already started thinking about the "number" of suits she would buy from the Fashion Barista of the town.

The annual sale of Kiran Emporium in our town is no less than a festival. All the rich, affluent, working, middle class people throng the place with full devotion.

While I was taking in the scene at home, the phone rang. My father picked it up, shared the pleasantries and passed on the receiver the Mamma.

"The sale at Kiran Emporium begins tomorrow, what say???" came the excited and hurried voice of an aunt, who lives right next to us.
"Lets work out the program."

Another few minutes, and the phone rings again. Another feminine voice delivers the breaking news of the sale.
Yet another lady comes running with a pamphlet in her hand.

And this works out to an elaborate program of shopping.

Come Monday, the ladies of the locality hurriedly finished up their chores and at the appointed hour, all of them went together to the afore mentioned shop.
Picking up one suit, then another, looking for a steal in sale ... God, these were ladies on mission.

Mum ended up picking 12 suits. They were all a must have kinda. Her smile as big as the suit lengths and the  hefty bill did little to diminish it.

The shopping all done, both my sister and my mother vowed not to indulge in any more shopping for this season. "We have enough to last us this season."

And the next morning my sister comes clutching another pamphlet ... "Sale ... woolens flat 50% off."
And when I roll out my eyes, I am met with "but these are woolens Di".

Who ever said it was easy to please the ladies.

This is a contribution from my sister, Ruchi. Thanks Di for such a wonderful post and for sharing my love for shopping. For those who read this post regularly, I have already done a post on my shopping love here.
And trust me, I (or my sister) get no favors from Kiran Emporium for doing this post. It is just that most of (all of) our shopping gets done from this one shop, so she must have thought of including the name here.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

A happy Ever After

They both loved one another. None had the strength to live without the other.
But the dictates of the society ruled out a happily ever after for them.
And so they thought about meeting for one last time that day.
But when the time for goodbyes came, their intertwined bodies would not let go.
The blood from their cuts had formed a pool. It was too late to save them.
Or was it really late???
For their souls were rejoicing in land where love ruled ... With a clear heart and clean conscience … they had let go of their lives.

In response to Trifecta: Week Nineteen

Friday, March 16, 2012

Brave ...

Go …

He has fallen again. He rises again. He is guided by his mother’s voice … Don’t worry … there’s nothing wrong here.
So, he smiles. He balances himself on his tiny feet and gets up again. He takes a few steps and again he falls.
My heart jumps as he falls. This can hurt him, I think. But his parents are smiling. They are joyous. Why this contrast. What is it that they see and I fail too.
And then I see it. He has walked the short distance to his toy. He has walked unaided and all on his own.
They are teaching him to walk.
And then my sister smiles back at me and says … you gotta learn to be a little more brave sweety. It won’t just to do walk with them every step. Be there and do not be there.
I shake my head but then I think over it. Yes, all these little ones will have to brave the realities.
As I think it over, he has started his journey again.
This time he is walking back to us. And I join the encore. I am shouting to him … be brave. And he comes back to us. We all clap and we all smile. The broadest grin … ofcourse that is his own.

Submitting this entry for Five Minute Friday.


“What’s your name?”
“Where do you live?”
“And where exactly is your home?”
With mamma and daddy.
“Sure.” “Adwin, Check if we have a missing report for “Edith, 3”?”
“Sir, we have not had any missing reports in this area in last one week … do you still want me to run a check?”
“Naah, can you check with other stations?”
“Sure sir, but that will take some time.”
“Take all your time … I will be waiting in my cabin.” “And yes, send in some chocolate shakes for Edith. She might like to have them”. Visibly uncomfortable when it comes to such routine things of life.
“So, Edith … where is your mamma and daddy right now?”
They went to talk to Jesus in his house.”
“You mean “The Jesus”, right?”
Yeah, Jesus. His house is big and beautiful.”
“And where exactly is His house?”
I do not know.” Sad, but certainly not crying.
The choco-shakes arrive. They sip in silence.
Marsh’s heart is certainly thumping. He tries to hold back his fears. But he is perspiring.
“Sir, I would like to draw your attention to the two cases …”
“Wait, Adwin. Not here. In your office.” “Edith, dear, I will be back soon.”
Ummm hmmm.” Busy sipping.
“Yeah Adwin … what is it …?” “Sir, I found two cases involving … errr … “
“What is it, Adwin?” Definitely losing his calm.
“Sorry sir, but I found two cases … involving Edith. In one case, the girl has been returned to her parents this very morning. So, that definitely rules out her being that girl …”
“Cut the analysis. What about the second case? Did you follow it up?”
“ Yes sir, No … No sir.”
“Yes sir, no sir … what???”
“Well sir, I do not think … Sir, it was about a road accident. The name of one of the victim was “Edith”.”
“You ran the check???”
“Thoroughly sir, there were no survivors …”
“Impossible … Keep checking.”
Marsh enters his cabin again … the glass of the shake is empty … so is Edith’s chair. And there in the neat hand is a note … “Thank you.
Marsh sinks to the floor.

Trifextra: Week Eight - Lost

“What’s your name?”




“Where do you live?”


“And where exactly is your home?”

With mamma and daddy.

"Sure." "Adwin, Check if we have a missing report for "Edith, 3"".

This weekend's challenge is to write a story entitled 'Lost' in exactly 33 words. The word 'lost' can only appear in the title, not your 33 words
This is my write up for the challenge. But I wrote more than 33 words actually. (I found it a little difficult to stop). If you would like to read further, check out the post marked "Lost".

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The trail that left her cold

She had seen the trail from the distance.

She understood that the town was burning. There was a little hope for anybody to make out of it alive.

But mother's heart can beat even on an iota of hope.

And so she had covered the arduous miles on foot. And so she had reached the burning town.

And what a sight greeted her there. Everything was burnt to cinders ... reduced to ashes. She found it difficult to breathe in the stifling heat.

Her heart was heavy with fear and she longed to see her son. She saw a posse of officers ... going about their duties. She edged closer and waited for an opportune moment ... if only it could be called opportune. They heard her approaching and bowed their heads and took off their caps.

She had known it all along ... ever since she had seen the trail ... but had been afraid to admit it to herself. The fear was gone now ... an empty hole remained in its place ... a void that will never be filled.

She turns to walk away when they say "He saved every one he could."

"I am sure he did."

And she walks away ... cold, proud and pained.

Submitted for Trifecta Week Eighteen challenge ... the word trail in no less than 33 and no more than 333 words.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Waking up to a new day

A little hope dawning in the morning,
Whispering joy to those who lend an ear.
Songs of spring, spring in every heart,
And smiles flicker on the faces we hold dear.

Oh! the song of birds,
the unfolding of the flowers.
The sun shining through,
in the early morning hours.

The glint of dew,
the touch of wet grass.
The morning air, the prayers
and the mass.

Ringing in a new day,
with a joyful heart.
And making it special,
while it does last.

For come tomorrow,
the dawn of new day.
A handful of life,
and heart full of pray.

Thank you ... For the blessings,
the joy that we feel.
Thank you ... For the prayers
we say as we kneel.

Friday, March 9, 2012

When hearts speak

This was how she had wanted it …
And now …
He waits for her … no words …
His eyebrow raised.
A blush in response. A nod follows.
Together they rejoice

The Trifecta Week seven challenge ...
An exactly 33 word story ... with justified exclamation point.

We continue to live ...

We know not where we want to go,
We know what paths we ought to take.
We feel not the beauty that surrounds us,
nor the joys bring smiles to our lips.
The tears don't move us anymore,
and we feel no sorrow no pain.
We need not friends by our side,
and we have left our families far behind.
We walk on and we walk away,
from lanes of memories that come calling.
We shove the past to the sidewalks.
And we bury our present with our own hands.
No sun brings hope, no moon begets a poem.
No butterfly gets an admiring eye.
And yet we live, if you call this life ...
An empty meaningless life.
They tell me,
The spring is yet to come ...
I wonder how long it lasts ...


Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Lest we sway

Let there be angels to guide our way ...
Through joys and smiles,
that spread for life or while;
Teach us to hold on to Your way ...
Lest we sway.
Let there be angels all along our way.

When the going goes tough,
and the path is rough;
Let there be strength enough
To hold on to Your way ...
Lest we sway.
Let there be angels to guide our way.

This we pray,
Today and everyday,
Let there be angels to guide our way ...
All along, lest we sway.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

There is nothing like ...

There is nothing like spring.

It is not like I do not like winters. I am essentially a winter girl. I like all the winter clothing I have. I know I can accomplish so much more in those short winter days (essentially because we cannot go out in biting cold for market rounds unless very urgent and that has definitely not deterred me till date). I love basking in the bright sunshine. I like sitting on our terrace … breathe in the fresh air around me and see life unfolding slowly and beautifully. I like the winters for they teach us to be strong and brave it all. I like winters for all the hues that I can see around me. So, you see, I love winters.

But trust me, I dislike winters too. I dislike when it keeps getting colder and numbingly colder. When all the traditional signals of heralding spring have come and gone and it just keeps getting colder. And those winter rains. Ah!!! They spoil all the fun.

Winters are time when everything literally freezes. Even your hair oil (I am not sure about yours. I use coconut oil and that freezes … climate control or no climate control version). It kind of becomes a project … 
  • Get a pan with hot water.
  • Place the oil bottle in it.
  • Wait till the oil liquefies. Wait. Wait. And, wait. If the water was not hot enough, go back to step one. 
  • Apply the oil while it is still liquid.
One moment you oil your hair, the next there will be little flakes of oil all over your head. And they somehow tend to damage more than nourish.

And I dislike the winter months nullifying all the hair care done by my mother all through the year.

But now that we feel spring in the air … my winter woes have come to an end.

It pleases me so much to see that the oil has not set again. Yes, my very own coconut oil … that looks like oil for the first time in months …

Mum can easily massage my hair now. And there is nothing like mother’s hand running through your hair … full of love and care.  I am going to squeeze in every chance that I get till the next winters to get my hair oiled by Mamma’s hands.

Greedy … Yes, I am.