Monday, November 10, 2008

What they say

What do you do
when you feel
a dread deep within?
and you wonder why?

What can you do
when you see
the black clouds which
threaten your sunlight
and you cannot blow them away?

What do you do
when you smile
but the eyes,
they tell a different story?

This too shall pass
so they say
but the agony
It is in the waiting
and not knowing

The agony is in
the searching
for an imagined strength
to mask your weakness

This too shall pass
so they say
But it's the passing
which is killing

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Do i have to...?

"Do i have to" he asked, tentatively, unsure, eyes pleading...

yes, you have to, you know you have to

"but i don't want to..."

come on, its not that difficult, stop making it so hard for everyone...

okay, okay, don't get angry, i'm trying, its difficult, you try doing it.....



splutter...did you have to do that, i was trying to swallow?!!!!!


Sunday scribbling - prompt "DO I HAVE TO?"

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Solace that what i find
when i take you into my arms?
Ready to go where you take me
wanting to be the one you want

Solace, i think that's what i find
in a book i read,
uninterrupted and free...
the mind gets ready for a timeless journey
the heart is set for adventure, love and mystery...

my books, that never ceases to amaze...
my books, in you i find my solace

scribbled in a hurry for sunday scribblers
Prompt 'Solace"

update:: after reading such beautiful versions at Sunday scribblings, i wish i had taken time to delve deeper and come up with something more profound, something beautiful...


Saturday, July 26, 2008

What if?

What if? It's so tempting to fall into the game of playing 'What if'!! What if i had done this? what if i had said that? What if ...?

What if you decide never to think of the if's and the but's but focus on the 'will' and the 'can'? Would life be as interesting?

Every action brings a change and every change brings on a challenge. There is no time to think on what could have been done but yes, there is time to think on what should be done henceforth.

So what next?

Scribbled in response to the Matinee Muse prompt 'What if"

Monday, July 21, 2008

Knock, knock who's there?

She soaked her tired feet in hot water, let her hair down, and took a book to read. Exhausted from the day's overload of work, she deserved this little pampering.

Five minutes later, she could not ignore the sounds from the kids' room. Hadn't she just left them asleep?

The noise growing steadily louder, she got up with a sigh. Marching into their room she hollered, "one more sound from any of you and you are grounded!!!"

As she stomped away, she heard the tremulous whisper of the 3 yr-old asking his stunned 5 yrold bother, " Is that a ghost?"

She had left her face pack on...!!! Why hadn't she thought of this earlier?

inspired by a chance remark...

update:: this piece was inspired by a comment my 3 yrold niece made when she saw her mother march in, angry...only difference she called her a witch, being fed on fairytales...

Monday, May 12, 2008

my faithful friend

It never lies.
It shows me exactly who I am, who I have become.
It shows my deepest flaws, my brightest side.
faithful as ever

Always there,
Sometimes uplifting, sometimes depressing
but dependable,
for it never lies
a faithful friend

My mirror never lies…
even when shattered into tiny shards
sometimes I wish it did
just like my conscience does


He dialed the no with trembling fingers, wondering what to say. Would it be just like they had promised? Already dreaming of things unknown, he waited...

The line cackled to life…

He cleared his throat and squeaked…”ummm, you said you’d bring my wildest fantasy true…in this advertisement here…” regretting the words even as he said it.

Silence never felt so loud…

“You idiot, next time dial the right number!!!” came the outraged reply.

And that was the end of his fantasy…

fiction inspired by the numerous crank calls/wrong numbers one gets...:)

writers prompt - fantasy

sunday scribblings - telephone

Sunday, May 4, 2008


Deep down, deep within
Caged and restless,
Is there someone
Yearning to get out?

Is it fierce and aggressive?
Or just tamed into submission?
Is it good, is it evil
Do you know?

There are moments
When a glimpse is seen
A ferocious attitude
An aggressive will

Just a flash but enough
To know it exists
Does it emerge
when you are not strong?
Does it substitute
a weaker you?

If you knew how,
Wouldn’t you set it free?
If it would change you,
Would you still let it go?

Friday, May 2, 2008

freedom without peace?

Prerna kept the telephone down, tears coursing down her face. She had just heard her little boy on the phone. She had heard the unspoken plea in his voice, begging her to come back.

Prerna leaned back against the wall, remembering her family.

“My dear child”, there’s nothing in the world I want more than to have you near me, believe me. But I have to do this, i HAVE to do this, for you, for your father and for me. Forgive me, Pawan… Someday, you may understand”

She hoped he could hear her and understand her, more importantly, forgive her

She walked slowly back to her one room flat where she would be alone, cooking her frugal meal and thinking of the warm house she had left behind. Was it just 15 days ago that she had left everything and come here? Was finding herself worth it?


Prerna had been planning this for quite some time now. She never knew when the idea had planted itself in her mind and when it had germinated into a goal. It grew steadily, watered by the daily episodes of rejection she faced. Fifteen years!!! fifteen years of giving her time to the family had taken its toll. She had lost herself among the myriad roles of daughter-in-law, wife, mother and friend.

"How easy it is to get deluded by all the social obligations these roles force us to play," she thought wryly. She had allowed herself to get carried away with the responsibilities of motherhood and home, waiting for that day when she would be free, to explore her dreams. Till the day she realized that she would never really be free. She was expected to fulfill all her roles responsibly but Viraj had clearly missed his duties. Living in a joint family had chaneged him. He was never there for the family. Taking care of the family business had made him a slave to time.

Everyone thought that her part-time art class was a way to spend free time, it was just a whim that could be indulged. No one realized that it meant an unrealized dream.

It must have been the time when she was showing her old albums to her class that this idea must have struck her. Her college photos where she had won the best artist award. The awe on her loyal 20 students, who were sent more by bored mothers, than to learn any serious art. Was it then that she knew what she had been missing? Or was it when she chanced upon the article which praised the quaint little painting village which had come up?

That’s when she made up her mind and broke the news to Viraj. Viraj, her husband looked at her sadly…”where did I go wrong? Why are you doing this to me? “

“You never went wrong. I am responsible for this. I let my dreams die. For once I’m asking for the right to be selfish. To do what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve given you 15 yrs of my life …is this so much to ask for? That you look after our son for 6 mths and help me out?

He had raged ”Dreams? What dreams?!! Am I not slaving for the family too? How can you tell that you are not contented? You want to pursue art now? You have everything!! What more do you need?

Prerna replied sadly, “Would you believe my identity? You wouldn’t understand, Viraj” and left the room, leaving him puzzled and perplexed.

That evening, when the family sat down to dinner, she said, “There is an art school where I want to go. It has a residential program for 6 months. i’m planning to enroll

As expected when she broke the news, there were fireworks. They all tried to dissuade her, worrying about what people would say. But she had made up her mind. It was now or never.

Her parents-in-law were aghast. She knew they did not approve but she was beyond caring this time. Her parents too had tried to reason with her, her closest friends tried to dissuade her. She heard them out and just smiled. She gave no explanations because she knew no one would ever understand. She was doing it for herself and that was the very thing which troubled them.

*To be continued....

sunday scribblings prompt - family
writer's island - Identity

Monday, April 28, 2008

The future of our planet

You are worried when you read about global warming.

You are upset when you read about depleting resources…

You gasp when you read about polluted air…

It’s sad because the same technology which has brought us comforts has given us its side effects too

It’s worrying when each person thinks “what good can I, a single person, do? I won’t be able to change anything”

It’s confusing when you hear the scientists foretell the dismal future of our planet…

It's depressing when you think of the needless loss of lives in the name of peace

You feel helpless because you’ve messed up and left an inheritance which is worthless…

But there is hope...and where there is hope there is a future...and i would like to build on that....

the prompt at sunday scribblings is "The future of the planet"

Sunday, April 27, 2008


The beautful butterfly once lived life as a humble caterpillar. The caterpillar cannot become a buterfly if it strays away from the path of completion.

We humans don't have it so easy.Why is it that someone somewhere is always seeking that one thing to feel complete?

When do you know you are complete? Is it when you walk the path towards a perfect match, or a perfect career or …?

When you know you can die without any regrets, is that the moment of completion? If you yearn no more, does it kill the motivation to do better?

Is contentment the key to completion? Then why is it so difficult to be content?

Or am i confusing it with fulfillment?


a penning down of thoughts which flowed when i read this prompt 'completion' at writer's island....I have yet to build on this...or am i on the wrong track?

Friday, April 18, 2008

A daughter no more!

a story in response to the prompts on writers island , triumph and survivor.

Shaila took a minute to catch her breath and then continued her frenzied activity. There was so much to do…the food arrangements, the flowers had to be arranged, the gifts had to be sorted out. Everything had to be just perfect. It had to be; this was the most important moment of her life.

She looked at the couple at the couple on the *mandap, dressed simply yet radiating a wealth of happiness on their faces. Even from this far, she could see the glow on their faces. Her thoughts ran back to that fateful day when their world had fallen apart.

It had never been a marriage worth talking about. The abuse had been tolerated because marriage was a security that she thought protected her. Then one day, he had walked out of their lives leaving them with a paper which declared her marriage null and void. The tears and the humiliation, the anger and remorse, these were feelings that had overwhelmed them again and again. The words exchanged between them had been bitter. It had been a terrible blow, to be flung aside like a dirty rag. They had spent days and nights consoling each other. The invisible finger of blame was always pointed towards them, by relatives and the so-called well-wishers. It was insinuated that she had been a source of embarrassment to ‘HIM’, that’s why he had left her.

She thought of the self denial they had gone through. It had taken ages to come out of it. That’s when they realized that they were not alone; they had each other and would weather this storm together and search for that rainbow.

They enrolled for classes together. It was fun in a way, though they always had this feeling of insecurity hanging over them. She remembered those nights spent drinking coffee and studying! Those were the nights where they also rubbed balm over each other’s pain. How could she not remember the pain of job hunting and the feeling of despair over each rejection? Sometimes she felt like giving it all up and running back to him, pleading to be taken back. Luckily her famous will power had always held her back. The first step to independence had been taken when they came to terms with it all. It had been tough, the days spent in the women’s hostel and trying to make ends meet, but the days of sacrifice had been worth it. They had finally triumphed! A job had been secured, meriting a small celebration among their newfound friends.

Her mother had been strong though she, Shaila, had seen her unshed tears. Together they had tried to make a new start. Slowly “HE’ no longer figured in their conversations and he faded away like a bad dream. They had realised the value of self esteem.

They were there for each other and that seemed to be enough…till the day, many years later, she noticed subtle changes. She noticed the presence of a new person in their conversations. Anmol crept in unnoticed but hovered around like an unseen presence.

She decided to do something about it. It had been funny when she thought about it, now. She had followed him everywhere, to his office, to his home. Her only aim was to see what kind of a person he was. How else would you know about him if you didn’t see him in his own surroundings? She now knew exactly where he went for his meals, who he spoke to, which barber he visited, that he played good cricket with the street kids and that he spent a day of his week reading to slum children.

One day, she had been wating outside his home when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Anmol. Sternly, he had asked “ma’am, why have you been following me? Should I report you for adam-teasing” and there was an inkling of a smile in those clear eyes. The ice had been broken then and she immediately felt a strange feeling of peace. Perhaps he was the one!

He had then taken her to the coffee shop. They had talked. After weeks of observing and analyzing, she had made up her mind. She had decided that the time had come for action. She would get them married. She had single-handedly opposed all the so-called friends who came immediately flocked around, like vultures gathering for the kill. In the name of social obligations, she listened to many arguments and snide remarks but she was firm. Where were these people when they had needed help?

If happiness was seven 'pheras' (the wedding vows) away, so be it. And that was how this day came into the picture! Fingers were pointed today too, when everyone realized what was happening. Shaila refused to be cowed down. She the daughter was giving away her mother in marriage, whether anyone approved of it or not. The marriage was attended by the few well-wishers they had, because nobody else believed that a divorcĂ©e deserved to live! These few friends, who had stood by them all through, made sure that she didn’t falter. Her mother had agreed reluctantly, scared of society but Shaila had been adamant. Anmol had been truly invaluable in this crucial phase. ************************************************************************
Her mother, Saritha, caught her eye and smiled, tentatively. Shaila smiled back reassuringly…Together, they were both survivors who had triumphed against the odds…
The characters in the above story are visualised in the indian context where it is the woman generally who faces the social stigma attached to a divorce.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Flight to nowhere

He stood there grinning, feeling the air on his face
Today was the day he would show the world
What he was and what he could do

The ones who said that he was nobody
They would soon be eating their words
He hated them for making him feel so small,
Today was the day, he thought
They would never forget who he was

The reporters had gathered…the crowd had arrived
They looked so tiny from here
The smile still on his face, he fell
From the topmost floor of the tallest building in town

All the while, he wondered and marvelled
The feeling of movement too strong
Never realizing that he was on a downhill plunge
Taking a flight to nowhere…
On his one-way ticket to oblivion

The writer's island prompt this time was...FLIGHT

Thursday, April 10, 2008


Fearless is ...what that bungee jumper is...*gulp

Fearless is....what a bird is, soaring high

Fearless is ...what a lil child is…free

Fearless is...what I am when I say NO

Fearless is ...believing in yourself

Fearless is ...seeing your convictions through

Fearless is ...being honest

Fearless is what I aim to be

What makes you fearless?

Friday, April 4, 2008

Who is the animal here?

Does this make you smile?

It broke my heart.

To see such a majestic animal being reduced to this.

I wonder why man abuses his power and intelligence so?

The prompt at Sunday scribblings is "photograph"

Friday, March 28, 2008

One day....

Awakened by the chirping of the birds, she stretched languorously and looked around. She saw him, asleep, dead to the world. Should she wake him up? Perhaps not! She should first fill her stomach. She tip toed to the kitchen, and looked disdainfully at the mice scampering around. She was so hungry that she felt she could eat anything. Ignoring them, she gulped the milk and the food kept nearby. She looked around and smiled, the kitchen was in a mess…boy, he is going to be so angry!

She went back, and again looked at him. The urge to wake him up got stronger. She went near and tickled his foot. He nudged her away and rolled to the other side. She persisted and licked his face.

He knocked her off again. Miffed, she stormed out. She could make it on her own. She didn’t need him. She walked and walked smelling the early dawn. Suddenly, she felt someone following her. All her senses awakened, she turned around to see Bholu leering at her. Uhoh!! That seemed like trouble. After the torrid affair last summer, he had never ever forgiven her for dropping him. The least he could have done was live up to his name. She took a right turn and saw another familiar figure walking towards her, hairy Goldie. What kind of name was Golden?

She stopped warily, trapped between the two of them, wondering whether this was the end. They stepped closer and closer,  she watched intently,  frozen and caught.

Suddenly she heard a whistle, a welcome sound.

”Here kitty…here…where’s that dratted cat gone?” muttered the voice.

She gave a triumphant meow and bounded towards the voice, relieved to have all her nine lives intact.

writer's island

Saturday, March 15, 2008

The mask

This time sunday scribblings came with a "smorgasbord" of ideas and that is proving to be my nemesis. Try as i might, i'm just not able to decide on THE pompt, from the 101 (yes, 101). I'm equally worse at a buffet...

so my two cents on masks...and...morning

I love my morning tea. This is the only time i have when i sit looking out of my window at the clear skies, feeling the early morning nip and hearing the birds chirp. Sipping tea with the hubby in silence but yet so connected...I need those ten minutes of silence before I come back to earth and wear my masks for the day. Before I throw myself into the hustle bustle of routine.

Everyone wears some kind of mask. There are innumerable occasions where I have been forced to be someone else, either because society demands it or because there is no other way out. The only time perhaps I am just myself is when I am alone with that little core of people who form my family.

Writing my blog was something which gave me happiness and allowed me a way to explore thoughts and ideas, mostly through prose and on few occasions as poems. Here I thought I could be myself and speak my mind. And it worked too, for a long while. But now, I wish I had maintained my mask of anonymity, but being me, I have let the whole world know who I am...Slowly you become aware of other readers' sensibilities, of blog etiquette, of minding my p's and q's.

With blogs being a public display of thoughts, you cannot choose your readers. You write with the hope that they are read by like-minded people, which has happened in my case. i've met wonderful people this way and i'm not going to stop. But recently I came across a friend's poem on his blog where his comment space soon became a sparring ground, with one person criticizing the quality (not the content, but the quality) and the others defending the writer. Surprising, because it was a nice poem, but the reader felt it was below the standard. Whose standards was he talking about?

So I ask myself, do I have to wear a mask here too so that I can be myself...? or do i have to wear one so that I can be someone else?

Saturday, March 1, 2008


I still remember that trip in the bus when i got down seething with anger and humiliation, looking back at the sea of leering faces wondering who it was...(It was nothing compared to what most go through but enough for me to get down immediately at the next stop.)That was my last trip on any bus. It was the first time i had used the public transport in Delhi, inspite of being told not to.I was young then and did not want to feel dependant on the car or my husband for everything. This incident was a shock to me, coming as i had from a sheltered life. Relating this incident to a local friend, she informed me that pins, and sharp objects formed part of the necessary weaponry, that every girl must use for her defence. This is what every girl using the public transport goes through. That was the day I felt the weight of the shackles...the shackles of my gender. They were always present in other forms, only i had never noticed it.

Since then i find my safety in crowds, in my vehicle and in the reassuring presence of a male. I knew now never to venture in lonely areas, never to walk out alone after dark, to always take care of how i dress. I even got used to it.

And so it continued, till i reached Singapore. This place is amazing. It gives you that feeling of security. I found myself using the public transport without fear. I cycle around and don't feel intimidated by strangers in a lonely park.

I savor the freedom to dress the way i want, the freedom to walk where I choose, ALONE, the freedom to be myself. It is a freedom which empowers me. It saddens me that an alien country gave me back what my own couldn't - my right as a woman. Strangely i feel empowered here...but i know it will only last till that day when i go back...

but having tasted this freedom, would i start binding those shackles all over again...?

This was in reponse to the writer's prompt...empowerment. i wanted to write about something else but ended up writing something more personal.

Friday, February 22, 2008


Boy meets girl, instant attraction
Unbridled passions, a nine month reaction
Lesson learned, always plan your passion!

couldn't resist writing this in response to the sunday scribblings prompt...

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

word magic..

I just couldn't resist this prompt at Weekend Wordsmith, which asks us to write a whole story with six words...

Six-word memoir

Forever open, never closed, mother's heart

Missing the bus, my life story

Writing thoughts, sparking connections, irresistible addiction

Do you have more to add to this?...i would love to hear it

Sunday, February 17, 2008


Following a train of memories through
Snapshots and videos, part of the treasury too
Traveling back in time, a timeless journey
changing styles, different moods,frozen for all to see

Flying on wings of hope and dreams
footprints to be etched, a mark to be made,
A travel forward, the future's new
Do you see you?

The prompt at WRITERS is time travel......

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Its magic!!!

Bare feet on grass, tired no more
Colors in the sky, a rainbow so high
Splashing in puddles, getting wet
Magical moments not to forget

A kick reminds; a little life here to stay
First steps; first smile; revel in the magic so new
Kiss away the pain, hug way the fear
The magic touch of love, every child’s due

Miles become shorter, calls connect
Families drawn closer, a magic of the web
A journey to places beyond, on big iron birds
A travel to fantasy on a carpet of words

Moments of joy, moments of love
Moments shot and frozen, sent to all
Wave that wand of awe, its magic that you see,
Its magic if only you want it to be

Go to writer's island for more magic

Sunday, February 3, 2008

One foul day!!!

A busy day, a foul day
Juggling jobs one too many
He saunters in, with his nose in the air
Sniffing something funny

A foul smell, a burnt smell…a dish beyond repair
The mood so hungry, we rush out the door
Pizzas eaten, ice creams dropped, the boys share
A little thought, “you really should burn food more”!!!

Join other Sunday scribblers here

Sunday, January 13, 2008

THE date!

THE date…

He suddenly stood up. Then realized that everyone was staring at him curiously. He sat down again. He had forgotten for a second that he was in his office and a second ago had been perusing his calendar to check out some travel dates. That was when he had seen this date circled in red. That looked ominous, because that was today and red meant something very very important!. And then it had struck him that it was his anniversary and he had forgotten to kiss her, wish her, whatever he had to do he had forgotten!…He was in deep, deep trouble. He tried getting through home but it was non reachable, which clearly spelt Trouble with the biggest capital T.

Without a thought he mumbled an excuse to whoever was listening, dashed out, ran down the stairs..and caught the first cab he saw. On the way he splurged on a bouquet of roses, stopped at a store, bought a ridiculously priced perfume and a huge card, and reached home , decidedly gloomy about all the money spent and cursing himself for the amnesia..

Ringing the doorbell, he braced himself for the barrage of sulks which could greet him…The door opened and she looked sweetly at him and asked: “What happened/ you are home early?”

“Hmm” He thought to himself, “it’s a rare occasion, but I think she’s forgotten”!

Quick to capitalize, he added a little more attitide and said loftily, “perhaps you’ve forgotten but I haven’t …”

“Forgotten what?” She asked, clearly troubled…

“ OUR anniversary…I never thought you would forget this important day of our lives…’ So saying, he gave her the flowers, the card and the perfume, with a flourish very pleased with it all. He went on how he had wanted to surprise her and how she had saddened him; all the while thinking,…”aha, now I’m going to be treated like a king for the rest of my life…”

Only to hear her voice among all the happy thoughts…” but dear, our anniversary is next month, the same date but next month!!!! “

He was sure that she could see him crying…and patting his light wallet!!

The prompt at Sunday Scribblers was "The date" and my, i had fun writing this...

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

The sun wants to play!

the weather's been funny the past few days here in Singapore. You never know when the sunny day decides to be all teary...Today was one such day and my lil boy was feeling upset that it i made up this poem for him and we had some fun! Sharing our lil moment together...This suited the prompt at writer's too...
The sun wants to play!!

Over the horizon and far away
The sun woke up to a new day
Should I hide behind a cloud today?
Should I be bright and stay?

So he hopped behind a cloud, peeking in and out
Making the weather man shake his head and shout
It’s going to be bright...umm wet....may be sunny,
This sure was bad. This sure wasn’t funny!

Waiting for the sun to make up his mind,
Was not easy, they were beginning to find
Our umbrellas or our shades, what do you think?
What a mess, it tickled our sun really pink

Everybody grumbled, what a day
The children didn’t know where to play
The beach or the park, in or out
The sun was acting strange, no doubt…

Nobody ever thought the sun
Could be having some fun
Over the horizon and far away
The sun sure had a great day

Thank you ps..for your suggestions. This was more of a spontaneous oubtburst from me to keep S in good humor. The second stanza has been tweaked a bit, of course after due approval from my lil boss!!!**********************************************************

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

I wonder what's beyond!...

I wonder what's beyond?
Should I break the shackles and go on or should I be safe and drift along?

Don't go too far,don't cross the line, says the voice, be where the crowd is, everything's just fine

I wonder what's beyond?
Will I fall when i reach there or will I be upside down?

Do as i say,pay heed says the voice, i'm experience that you need

I wonder what's there...My dreams urge onwards, each achievement gets me closer yet I wonder why i never do reach

Be smart, be quick..says the voice, learn the trick

I wonder...when two minds see, where does the horizon end?

Follow me says the voice, i know what you need

I wonder what happens when i reach there..Will a new horizon show itself? I wonder what's beyond?

Listen to your dreams, says the voice, listen to yourself...only you can decide how far your horizon is !!

thanks to writer's island for a very interesting prompt and the friend who got me to think...

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