Whispering Thoughts

Deep in her heart she prays for older kids to be playing silently. Or else outside. But with summer sun in the noon, she knows that will not be possible. Then somebody walks in the room and she hopes they tiptoe their way back. And that they do not bang the door shut on their way out. That no guests – announced or unannounced drop in – for they will ring the shrill bell. That the loud whistle of the cooker should not pop off. That she does not have to use the mixer-grinder at this hour. That nobody asks her for stuff she keeps in the cupboards of last bedroom. She would prefer if TV could be enjoyed – when muted and that the bikes in the alley were all fitted with silencers. That monkeys could find some other place for chit-chat than their terrace. Yes, she looks forward to a pin drop silence. She cannot risk the noises. Not even the slightest ones. Not with her youngest (1.5 year old) sleeping or trying to sleep in the last room. Linking with Five Minute Friday Linking wit...

Retelling Kane and Abel Take 3: They share their birthdays. That is where the similarities end. Amidst an all-consuming hate, they build their lives in the hollow empires of money. And from the ashes of their hate, love blossoms. Take 2: They share their birthdays. And that is where the similarities end. They nurture dreams of power, of empires, of money. Hate consumes their hearts. And from the ashes of this hate, love blossoms. Take 1: Their paths are different. So are their worlds. Their roads meet, paths cross - only to take them further apart. Then their kids fall in love. And their lives are never same again. Moral of the story: Some things are better left to the experts. P.S. - I wonder if sharing three trials in one post disqualify me from the challenge. The post looks longer but  I checked on word and each one of these is a 33 word entry. P.P.S. - I asked my dad if one could tell Kane and Abel in 33 words, he told me a long story (w...

The rain birthed life everywhere. The dry, parched earth sucked in the nectar- its thirst insatiable .Oh for the fragrances that lingered - fresh and pristine – like the swirls of incense in the air. After sweltering summers, the rain was a pleasant welcome. Every one experienced unparalleled joy – everyone felt ecstatic as they bathed in the beauty of the pelting drops. One - two – hundred – thousands of drops – that ended the might of the Sun – that devastated the cruel and merciless rule of heat – that cleansed, smoothed and soothed the scorched and cindered beings. Yesterday, the rains possessed us all. Linking up with Write on Edge

She mulled over her day. She had hoped to strike off so many things from her to do list. But despite her having worked round the clock, breaking only for lunch and coffee, not much progress had been made. She could still see the pending and work –in- progress things looking askance at her – when will you strike us off ? She had always had to work hard. With her getting into wedlock and getting a new job, she had hoped things would become easier. But who knew her husband would leave her for someone with better looks and better salary. The hollow words that he had whispered to her now echoed in her ears like a curse.  I love you. You are beautiful, my love ……… He was gone. And he had left behind, an ailing mother, a young sister and a trail of debts that she was trying to pay back. Her shoulders were weak and the burdens - heavy. No, things had never been easy. And they were worse now. Her mind throbbed as she rested in the rocking chair. Her back ached and her hea...

“ Chubby cheeks, dimple chin, Rosy lips, teeth within, Curly hair, very fair, Eyes are blue, lovely too. Daddy’s pet, is that you? ” “Yes, yes, yes!” Edith longed to hear these words in person. Her father spoke these to her whenever they had their together time. She was waiting at their regular rendezvous, holding her mother’s gift – a white and red teddy bear. But where was he? He should have come by now - now when it was almost twilight; when it was late for her to be wandering outside; when she was bored of watching the birds returning to their nests; when she was tired of waiting for him. “Where was he ?” Tears welled up and flowed down her cheeks. “ Mother will be angry for having stayed out so long .” Should she run back to her mother? Should she wait? She looked behind her. The lonely calf had moved further away, trying to find a speck of grass for itself. Soon it would nestle safely in the lap of its mother. Edith started walking back gloomily. ...

As the car hit the dirt road, Medini looked for a safe place to park it. She could walk the last few minutes to her home. She always did. The last stretch and then the short lane and she would be home! How often had she tread this path running errands! The memories came flooding. Chapters of her life flashed before her eyes and she stood there lost in her own world. Her heart ached and pined for her soldier husband. She wondered how long before she would be able to hold him in her hands. The cacophonous sounds brought her back to reality. Kids were having a great time. The vacations must have begun. She started walking to her niche. In her mind, she had chalked out the itinerary – cooking, ironing, and shopping. There was lot to do and so less a time.  She planned to begin with cooking – it was relaxing and she was already feeling hungry. She had sensed some delicious cooking in her short walk and her taste buds were hyper active now. Her steps quickened in respo...

I hear the Gran adjusting her footwear outside – it must be time. She calls out to me – expecting the technological support. I follow her silently and switch the television on for her and adjust the volume. No, I do not have to ask her what channel and what serial. In her case – the choice is actually no choice. One serial, one channel. If they ever gave an award for serial loyalty, I am pretty sure, Gran could get a nomination. Anyways, the television springs to life. And then for another half an hour, she forgets I am there. Half an hour later – she sighs with sadness – she will have to wait till tomorrow – in expectation and anticipation. This happens daily without fail. The clock strikes 8 every evening without fail. And Gran positions herself before the television – every evening without fail. Half of the time, I do not even check the clock to confirm if it is about time. I know it will be. Plus minus a few minutes. And most of the time, it is minus. ...

She had put in a long day at office and was about to begin the homeward journey – same route, same hills, and same river that she had travelled in the morning. Only, the twilight was making the hills looks sinister, the sound of the rushing water scary, the unplanned bus halts irritating, and the loaded bus suffocating. Relief would not come what with the meandering roads, the treacherous turns, the unruly drivers and the narrow paths. This was not the way it looked on the other days. But she was good two hours late today. And it was almost night – almost. She shivered at the thought. She looked around her. No feminine silhouette visible.  Only rugged and unkempt males – they had all put in hard labor during the day, some of the persons in the back seats appeared drunk, the one who sat behind her smelled strongly of tobacco. She clung to her handbag a little more tightly. She was scared.  She tried to busy herself with the scenery outside but with dark coming in rapidly, h...

It wasn't the first time. And it would not be the last. She could not stand them suffering like that. She asked for his consent. He expressed his willingness in whimpering sounds. And the pain was gone – forever. Linking up with Trifecta : Trifextra - Week Nineteen