Whispering Thoughts

“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 Go. 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. Stop. Submitting this entry for Five Minute Friday.

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 t...

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

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 ...

“What’s your name?” “ Edith. ” “Age?” “ 3. ” “Where do you live?” “ Home. ” “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 ...

“What’s your name?” “ Edith. ” “Age?” “ 3. ” “Where do you live?” “ Home. ” “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 ".

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 whe...

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.

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 “Yes” !!! The Trifecta  Week seven challenge ... An exactly 33 word story ... with justified exclamation point.

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 ... Stop. Writing for the Five Minute Friday ... The Gypsy Mama

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.

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 ha...