Indigo Mood

Image Penny Smith/ Jinksy

‘A walk through the woods...
smell of docca and progo
 lingers on; even after 
the planets are gone’

“Miss home still?”

“when the sky turns this shade...”

“....as does your skin”

“time for the jabs then...should I try tan or mocha this time?”
“Two states this year!! Can't be careful enough...

wait a century, I'd say....”

*Droco And Progo...imaginary tree like formations

Haiku - 22

Image Courtesy

 Mirrors never lie / 

Disappointed eyes, seeks more / 

Nothing stays the same //

Child's Play

*Tried an Acrostic after a long time.....using each succeeding alphabet of the prompt as the first letter of the lines of the verse.

“Surprise!!  I’m pregnant”

From photobucket

Said the report; the Gynec, sad frown

Utter silence across the table

Reminiscent; ashen faces, of cremation grounds

People once friendly,

Rendered snickering gossips

Infatuation at 12, paid bitter price

School authorities bid nasty goodbye

“Egg rotten, spoils the entire set”, they proclaimed.

Insensitive relatives advise,

Admonished parents, for letting things slide,

Mother calls her a harlot now....

Ponder how a child is begotten,

Remember it takes two to tango...

Ensure censure for other’s fault

Given leeway, playing the field

New victim to warm his worn bed

Allowing him to deny

Not justice decreed

Tonight she sleeps...tomorrow....

*based on a news heard....12 yrs old should be enjoying childhood...but T.V, movies make them

indulge in reckless behaviour....

* My heart goes out to the 12 year old, especially with no schooling for now, living in a traditional society she has a tough life ahead.

Would you like to see this as a poem or as a 100 word story?

An Interview With A .....

Tonight we meet the reclusive authoress of 'If I die Young'.
"Welcome. Can you tell us what inspired the book and the thrilling storyline?"

Rasping in a soft voice, unblinking gaze, “Readers would know that it is based on out of body experiences, my own."

Red faced for a quick second before plunging forward, 
"Can you elaborate for the ones who haven't been able to grab a copy yet?"

 A maniacal gleam in the eye that turns the tomato hues to purple, a euphorical, "the young, such noble sacrifice...so soft and delicate, wonderful shades too. The best picks are the ones between 18 and 22...skin begging to be turned robes, an artist's delight. For a guy, yours is pretty soft too!!"

Reaching for the purse on the table, eyes on a particular man in the audience who nods his compliance.

"Someone call the cops" the last screams heard, before the studio turns dark and quiet...

*The title has been borrowed from "An interview with a vampire", lest poor me gets charged for copyright violation.

*Modern reality shows with emphasis on questionable, inappropriate behaviour, spouting corrupt role models and our infatuation with this disturbing phenomena prompted this piece.

*I have tried to keep it PG...apologise if it offends any one's sensibilities.

Wave The Flag

Ignite the fire, 


the blue of transparency


Let the streets burn 


in the fierceness of your passion


The mighty cower and hide


covering their tracks in vain


People's power where it truly belongs


not in the hungry corridors of parliament


 in you and me who put them there


Not for avarice and mindless ego trips 


 to make our lives a better fare.


Remind them time and again


 of the people, by the people, for the people


 is still the clarion call of Democracy




* This is my BLUE contribution to the fight against corruption - a people's movement that has erupted all across India, asking their elected representatives not to forget what they are here for.

Wave The Flag

Ignite the fire, 
the blue of transparency
Let the streets burn 
in the fierceness of your passion
The mighty cower and hide
covering their tracks in vain
People's power where it truly belongs
not in the hungry corridors of parliament
 in you and me who put them there
Not for avarice and mindless ego trips 
 to make our lives a better fare.
Remind them time and again
 of the people, by the people, for the people
 is still the clarion call of Democracy








* This is my BLUE contribution to the fight against corruption - a people's movement that has erupted all across India, asking their elected representatives not to forget what they are here for.


For Jinksy In Tandem 6, Gooseberry Goes Poetic

My Story

S

miled again, rather

Grimaces in pain

The spotlight never her thing.

Millions of eyes, ears,

mouths and hands

Dissecting the enigma

On the canvas.



If portraits could

Speak their minds

As do in Hogwarts...
My face would

Mesmerise no longer.

The long hours,

Aching limbs,

Stretched endurance

Worth the while.

Few stolen moments ,

A valid excuse,

Bought at heavy price

Of heartache and heart break.



Throw a curve ball

That proclaimed

The furrowed brows,

Pigment stained fingers

Dipping onto the palette

Belonged to the one

My secret love.

The man belonging

with the world but

never with any one.



Do you Like this as a poem or a 100 word story?

Strange Worlds

  Based on a fantasy short story I wrote some years ago but left halfway

The clock chimed 12....all eyes turned to it.


Then a crashing sound from the kitchen snapped everyone's attention... Mother rushed in, almost slipping on the mess on the floor. Meena stood still, with a faraway look in her eyes whilst clutching her left arm. Joy pried away her fingers, watching  in terror and wonder; the dreaded silver words glistening in contrast to her brown skin.

“ Tonight we come” read the words.
 As Joy dragged the compliant girl out of the kitchen, he kept an anxious watch on her.

The family huddled in the small  living room, relatives he had never met stood whispering...older men and women gathered around his great grand mother passing the now yellowing picture around.

Would Tara’s fate be the same as her great grand uncle??...

If pictures could speak, surely it would say a thousand things. Was he alive, could he guide her, would she even meet him and mostly where the hell was he?


 A mystery whose answers weren't even enclosed in a dusty tome, the trembling wrinkled lips which was sworn to secrecy revealing the bare outline.


 For over 600 years, maybe more, every fourth generation, the second oldest child in his family disappeared alone; within, the now in ruins stone temple, on the dawn they turned 16.


The only evidence was an ancient dagger which made its appearance on the very spot they had been, last seen standing, by the rest gathered out of sight, far away in the temple grounds.


Joy had often questioned  the enforced practice.... the constant reply, " The fear of an ancient curse being activated", he openly scoffed at. He was glad he had been born five Min's later but felt for his twin. He had an ace up his sleeve, it all depended on perfect timing..... 










* I didn't know how to end the story...aliens, secret cult, magical world, star gate..... so left it unfinished.

An Unfulfilled Last Wish

At Saturday Centus...there is only one thing that's constant and that is change....
hence a 15 words or less centus with an optional picture (which got me all excited)!!!
Here we go....with Harry Potter and my final adieu to the movies....
my imagination and Jenny's inspiration....Apparate and glide over the other magical spells at her blog Off on my tangent...
 Before I forget...the prompt was "...Before I die I want to..."

By songsnwords | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

The Watchers

She stood there, watching

the face break into giggles and squeals, 

 brow scrunched in intense concentration,

 a voice that hummed along soft strains

merry feet and giddy moves, 

He stood there watching

the sleep laden lids struggling,

the once palpitating heart, breaking

the listless body drifting

monologues and arguments in emptiness.

They hung there as they always had

through changing walls and rooms

the silent sentinels musing over

the ever changing fortunes

of their mistress and her lady luck.

 painting whispers

 ( based on this glass painting of  RadhaKrishna that my cousin sister Nimmi 

made and gifted for my first wedding anniv. 

 A decade, three cities, a dead relationship later; they still hang on, my precious gift)

Time To Hit The Gym??

Having been AWOL for 2 weeks without the headmistress' Jenny Matlock permission..thought I'll use humour to appease her.
Enjoy /sympathise with other age related joys/woes at her blog..off on my tangent 


"...I'm not getting any younger...", she cribbed, huffing their way up the stairs....
''Need any help?'', asked her 75 year old uncle, his booming laughter echoing as he overtook her. 

A Letter Of Hope??.....

Dear John,


  
          I have carried this burden for far too long. A part my ambition played; in this deceitful secret I have managed to mislead you with, through all the struggles and adulation alike.


    Your father never came from the future. You were a product of a hallucinatory night of marijuana and coke.


     This war wasn't your destiny. Run away while you still can. Amigo has promised to stay.


Sarah Connor.




For those who may not be aware, a spoof on Terminator, the cult movie of the eighties and nineties.

A Chinese Dilemma

Why are the metallic monsters coming towards us, xien sho?
Must be the white tribe's tribute to thee; exalted highness, "son of heaven"!!

Added to Grandma' Goulash

( An imaginary conversation between one the terracotta Ming soldier and his king while being transported from the Beijing Museum)

Haiku - 17 Refugees

Herded like cattle /

stinky boats and trucks, entrapped /

blind dreams, bleeding souls //

Haiku - 17, 18 To Qualify Emotions

By songsnwords | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

Blinded by prejudice /

Scheherazade's thousand and one nights tales /

spared her life, his soul //

Based on one of the comments, would like to add a little about the 
book in question...
I presumed everyone is familiar with "1001 Arabian Nights" 
some of the more famous of the tales like Aladdin and the magic lamp, 
Sinbad the sailor, Ali Baba and 40 thieves were part of our childhood 
stories and also made into Films and Television Series. 

These stories are a collection of stories including folk from Western 
and Central Asia (India, Turkey, Iraq) and parts of Africa (Egypt) 
and first translated into English from the original Persian work in 
the 17th century. The origin of the stories is considered to be around
the 9th century.

 These tales are said to have used by the Princess to enthrall the 
Caliph for a 1000 nights. The Caliph's first wife having been 
unfaithful; he married a virgin every day and had her beheaded the 
next day. Until Scheherazade, the grand vizier's daughter, decided to 
step in and offer to be his consort and used her intelligence to save 
her own and the lives of other innocent damsels. 
By the end of the storytelling, the 1001 night, the Caliph had fallen 
in love with her and realised that he had erred in his thinking and judgement.

 They are a magnificent collection of tales that cover all the possible 
human emotions and reactions not to mention elements of fantasy 
and magic.

The one I possess has fewer than 30 tales but is a gift from my Uncle 
and has some beautiful hand painted illustrations by a Czech Artist. 
I highly doubt if my said copy is in circulation now as it's over 
25 years old.

Sixth part of the 30 day book challenge created by Polo at her blog Acotation Al Margen.

Older and newer entries here.

Since yesterday happened to be World Refugee Day...
and this week is Refugee week, a haiku for them...

Herded like cattle /

stinky boats and trucks, entrapped /

blind dreams, bleeding souls //


Added to Haiku Heights

A Classical Saturday Trip...

By songsnwords | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

Added to Saturday Centus . Check other builders at Jenny Matlock's meme
...her blog off on my tangent. The prompt by Jeff and back to a story of 

any genre in 100 words excluding the prompt in bold. Hope I am forgiven 
for continuing to combine two challenges into one.

 My take on the arrogant and proud Mr. Darcy

The music echoed, the soft sounds of rain drowning in

the cacophony of piano notes Mary created…The sisters

looked on in embarrassment while the rest sniggered;

some openly, some quietly.

 One stood singeing in annoyance and anguish…

paradoxical results of mind and heart. He considered

his presence a worthy gift lost on the country

bumpkins; yet, would regret missing out on those

intelligent, dark eyes which barely spared him so much

as even an angry glance.

Feelings unspoken, unexpressed “…within the stone..."

invisible walls he was forced by social status to strengthen

…her's by sheltered life and misplaced faith in other’s

coloured impressions.

This is the Seventh part of the 30 day book challenge created by Polo

at her blog Acotation Al Margen.

 For reades and writers alike.

Older and newer entries here.

The Journey Continues.....

By songsnwords | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

· Day 5: Favourite Book Of Your Favourite Series
 This is much more easier to answer....
 1 : The Plains Of Passage - Earth's Children (Fourth) by Jean Auel
2 : The Fellowship Of The Ring - LOTR (First) by J.R.R.Tolkien


Both these books in their series' deal with the journey. The Fellowship into a new unsafe world on a quest; Ayla's (the heroine of EC) equally hazardous journey through the glacier of ice into modern day France, to her mate's tribe and home.
The books reflect the decisions they have to take and the challenges they would have to face.
These two individual books  led the main characters to the crossroads  which would change their lives forever, whether they choose to stay back or go forward.


This is the Fifth part of the 30 day book challenge created by Polo at her blog Acotation Al Margen.

Do have a peek.

Older and newer entries here.

Despotic Dreams

My brother the big dictator
hates my being a drake.
Stands by insisting I wear lavender;
to be seen as a pansy
by all the hot ducks I fancy.


Added To Grandma's  Goulash and Poetry Potluck

Some Books And A Tale

She was excited by the call...the chores done in a blistering hurry.

Cast a quick glance to ensure nothing was left unfinished…

A lonely Saturday afternoon, with no company (often a good thing); this was a boon in disguise….

She made the important call seeking permission and was off in a flash….the car parked at the entrance….it had been two months since she last saw him, the only one she could confide in. Yet, felt extremely guilty when; with every episode she unraveled, the cigarette packet emptied further.

She gently admonished for his only addiction, he barely nodded…quietness as he drove through the rapidly filling roads. The building loomed before them...a sense of peace and adrenaline buzzed through together.

The steps couldn’t be skipped fast enough...there was temporary salvation ahead...she ran her fingers lovingly through the racks...a comfortable chair; lost to the world when he picked and passed some.

As she hungrily devoured the pieces...a bag was gently handed over ....a birthday gift of books, so special...eyes glistened. The wall was built long ago, but it came crashing down at the fact that her brother spent a better part of the day with her, at the bookstore,  where her husband was busy with friends...