Wanna Be Your Huggy Puggyman...

This week's Saturday Centus the challenge is to use UP TO 50 words to write a Hallmark card around this image for VALENTINES DAY!  Do walk through the other hallmarks at Jenny Matlock's meme...her blog off on my tangent .

The Words...
Jump, catch, fetch
snuggle, wag, juggle
never my style.


No, not always
this goofy...


Happens only
sniff, sniff
when you have
passed by....

Meeting The In Laws - The Breakdown - 3

A 100 or less worded Micro fiction, with a Prompt in bold (not included in the 100 words count) that has to be left intact in the tale. Do take a spyhole check into other efforts at Jenny Matlock's meme...her blog off on my tangent. 
My third and hopefully last instalment in the Sci- Fi genre...the waves echo on...


Meeting The In laws Part 1 click here
Meeting The In laws Part 2 click here
The dome looked like the Itrigs* she has seen of the motherland....a place known through stories, now myths for some....
It has been 5000 Estel* years since anyone in the colony was taunted "earthling"...
Some pointed their proton projectiles* at her, some  looked away guiltily while others with hope....she was a traitor to some, to the majority the only one the "Bhaa" and Benen may yield to ....to the shamed "ethical".
The sight at the dungeons was enough....she would trade her life... ask him the last favor...as she left, "It was growing bigger by the minute..." the body pile of soldiers and civilians alike.



(*Itrigs advanced photo storage powered by gamma rays.
 *proton projectiles - the only weapons that could temporarily disable the Orbs with cybortic bodies.
*The colony - Earth like planet Estel where a year had 666 days)

Haiku 7

Their twinkling eyes /

Tiny hands, laughing faces /

Soul's spyhole forever  //

Behind The Wedding Scenes

They trudged back from the dining hall...tired after all the hopping around...Indian weddings are elaborate processes  like 18th century  dining customs the English had...

A two day wedding meant family pouring in from all over the country and abroad. It meant going back to the dorms where you rub shoulders with distant aunts and cousins you would never again see in flesh and blood...well..not till the next wedding in the family anyway...

Sleep is elusive and people try to catch up on missed out years in the few short hours to spare....

Its a place for the young to get juicy glimpses of their stern elders easy going past...then there are those pent up emotions of anger, sadness or envy that a few mischief mongers flame for a few moments of pleasure...while the immediate family of the bride or groom have minor heart attacks...

On that particular evening...the rooms were full and the youngsters rebelled (including the bride's sister and brother in law)....they wanted their privacy and the warmth of the home beds....

Off they went in their glittering silks sarees and gold jewellery that could light up the roads on their own. Some smart elders not needed for the pre-dawn ceremony (mostly men) choose to go home to Uncle's den...little did they know what the following morning would bring...

The next days clothes were stuffed in small bags, the vanity kit being the most important...how could we let millions of photos go waste without some face-paint...

The bungalow was just as had been left in the afternoon...no forced entry....calm and quiet...the cars parked, the gates locked securely....they drifted off to sleep in batches over the next hour or two...

trink....trink...beep beep...the various watch alarms went...woke up groggy one eyed, the other tightly shut...damn its was 3.30 a.m already...we had to be back at the hall by 6 a.m atleast, if we didn't want to miss out important ceremonies not to forget the lectures from parents for oversleeping on a special day...

No coffee till the great dining meant a few irritated faces...not to mention that a couple had their stomachs grumbling from the heavy feast of the previous evening.

It was time to take turns to bathe and dress up....18 people and 4 bathrooms...do the maths...the elder ones are usually the luckiest. Age and the fact that most ceremonies require their participation or blessing meant that they had a head start always... 

The ladies and girls in the rooms upstairs were busy admiring each other selections and discussing make overs and some sharing pooled resources...when Rajesh Anna* (*elder brother) bangs on the doors and announces "no showers please"....great...

No one had remembered/come back to turn on the motor the previous evening which meant that the daily supply of water didn't get through....

A check of the underground tank showed water level at less than half the usual limit... 

Fine with just 11 people left to go as a couple of guys happily postponing the clean up exercise for an hour of extra sleep....the situation was manageable or so we thought...

Halfway through, shrieks heard from the upper level bathrooms....the water flow had stopped...followed by more frantic ranting from elder men downstairs...."where are the extra soap bars?"

All eye turned to the bride's sister after all it was her parents home...

She went down with a shrug and "no problem"...only to come back red-faced...the store room was locked and the keys safe in her mom's handbag back "there"....

It was the only day in our history when the "beauty/skin conscious" among us were held in esteem rather than teased by the men...

Its was our face washes that saved the day....We gathered in all the ones we could find on person....Pallavi bhabhi*(cousin brother's wife) being the sweetest, offering two of her big imported (meaning expensive, famous cosmetic brand....even after the liberalisation of the economy in the early 90's, shopping abroad is still a thrilling/exotic activity) tubes of  face washes.

The contents were generously dumped into eagerly waiting buckets till a nice soapy foam built up was realised....We all had a ingenious version of tub baths that day...

Not enough but atleast we wouldn't be stinking underneath all the bling...

The sorry, exhausted lot finally left the premises at 6.30 a.m reaching an hour late....did I  mention that someone forget to to send the cars back and we, half a dozen girls twiddled our thumbs, swear words that would make guys cringe, being traded back and forth.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful if one overlooks the members from the groom's side with their smart aleck acts...I mean what good is an Indian wedding (or any wedding for that matter) if the groom's parents don't throw a tantrum or two?...with furious nods and nudges from their siblings...

After the reception when Uncle asked casually if we wanted the house keys again....we still had the "inviting the newly-weds and their extended family for lunch" ceremony the next morning.... he was shocked with the collective screams of "No, not again!!!".....

(This was based on a wedding of one of my dearest cousins....names changed for obvious reasons....the picture is from my Brother's wedding though...)

Haiku 6

An Poloroid Picture digitised...

Wet footprints, dry sand

wind blown hair in disarray

blue waves behind, clash.

My Twitter #Sixwordstories In Wordle

Click on the Wordle to see the original one.

Time to leave past baggage behind

I have never held a magic wand

Grind your teeth, make hair rise

Heaven/hell, to each their own

One for mind, one for soul "songsnwords"

 Was in thought, walk or not?

New year resolution, fulfil or not?

The winter season but not cold!

Beaches, breeze, sand, shells, mocktails, music

Health is wealth, says the doctor

Dreaming with open eyes, the best

This laughter style means the most :D

New walking shoes, await their turn :P

Only father time can definitely tell

Too late now, walking partner gone ;

This time around, pack my mouse

Bid goodbye, till you can revisit

Ciao, fare thee well, mes amies

 Have a Flikr Friday, my wish

A tequila if its your thing.

Meeting The In Laws - The Flashback - 2

A 100 or less worded Micro fiction, with a Prompt in bold (not included in the 100 words count) that has to be left intact in the tale. Go have your fill of other creative endeavours at Jenny Matlock's meme...her blog off on my tangent. This time, though I didn't plan to take part, Jenny's comment that asked for a sequel to last week's Sci-Fi can't be refused...for a Sci-Fi/fantasy addict like me....another post in continuum...hope its readable...


Meeting The In laws Part 1 click here
The dust storms...two months of monitored travel..she stood lost in clashing thoughts...Slowly but sprightly for a 150 year old, walked to the "Minara"......took the drop pad to the dungeons, to "Asat"*  her family's section.
She had named him Benen*......her father and uncle's greed has caused damage lasting a millennia, forcing him to choose sides. 
The "Bhaa"*, his people had renamed her Mara*, now
retained as a reminder of lost love, a galactic war.
She lifted the stack of letters from the ancient chest,
never sent.... his letter on top, a poignant "stars apart/forever in each other's thoughts"...would her great grand daughter's fate be different?? 



(Sanskrit: Asat - evil, Bhaa - light, Mara - the destroyer)
(Benen - Latin for benevolent)

The Walk - Magpie Tales 51

Chipped red bricks pathway /

 Dull echo less footfalls left /

Seems familiar yet distant //

Haiku 5

Green camouflage

among restless leaves

parrots duo.

Rejection

Empty Eyes,

Bereft of Emotions /

Empty Lips,

Bereft of Speech /

Empty Hands,

Bereft of Warmth /

Empty Mind,

Bereft of Thought /

Empty Heart,

Bereft of Feelings /

Empty Books,

Bereft of Words /

Empty Music,

Bereft of Melody /

Empty Room,

Bereft of Voice / 

Empty House,

Bereft of Company /

Empty Dreams,

Bereft of Hope /

Empty Present,

Bereft of a Future //

Like a kite set adrift on a bleak greying sky /

Like a wound that no longer bleeds but leaves a dull ache /

Like a barren land that knows no growth //

Emptiness that transcends

The boundaries of Time and Space /

Emptiness, Emptiness, Emptiness, 

That Rejection brings in its Wake //

Added to Poetry Potluck

An Old Ode To Troubled Times

There I was flying

high above the ocean

with dreams that blinded me,

brighter than the sun I sought to catch..

and then without warning,

my wings, I see no longer ...

I crashed headlong 

broken into a million pieces.

have reached the dead end -

and the noose looms large

to be soon round my thick neck

tightening with the passage of time.

Immunity from pain and joy alike

my wild oats crumbled and scattered

by the wild stormy winds of power

a path of no retreat.

I slink to the corner

taking comfort in the dark

lying awake many nights unseen

nursing hidden wounds to the heart and mind.

The scorching heat of thoughtless minds 

 have melted my protective armour

leaving me unprepared, unprotected

unsure and unwilling.

Good intentions, mistimed

add little to clear my woes.

I whimper soundless and

sometimes a raging torrent.

Desolation, isolation I foresee

is what life has in store for me.

(wrote this 13 years ago...my failure to clear my C.A/C.P.A finals driving me to a state of depression and an immense sense of a failure...)

(It may seem  immature in places...the fault is entirely mine...)

Meeting The In Laws

Should call this a Thursday Centus, weekly deadline round the corner..... A 100 or less worded Micro fiction, with a Prompt (not included in the 100 words count) that has to be left intact in the tale. This time its Sci-fi style of writing...that's a boon/dream come true for a Sci-fi/fantasy addict like me....whoopee!!! Go have your fill of other worldly creative endeavours at Jenny Matlock's meme...her blog off on my tangent.


Was a nerve wrecking trip in more ways than one....travelling at light's speed, through space warps was one thing....being trapped in a orb that sped along at breathtaking speed ...oops, my body is back on the colony taking in artificial air....
Atleast he is with me...desperately miss holding his cybortic hand. We are barbarians to his folks, in love with decaying bodies they discarded like old clothes a million years ago.
 As we begin to slow down, I wonder which of the hovering orbs are the parents...its times like these I love to quote old liners.."Beam me up, Scottie..."

# 26 And # 27 Random Musings For The Day

If history is a doctored version of events that repeats itself.....why are we condemned to learn it in school??


Which makes better sense : Guilty until proved Innocent, Innocent until proved Guilty?? Are there any other options??

Soul In Agony

She sits, blankly staring at the ceiling above, oblivious to the pain and voices around.

They try everything to make her ….cry, scream, rant…any noise to show she is not beyond help. Days pass by, life goes on, and people by her door. She hears, sees, tastes, feels nothing....no longer cringes at the touch of steady, loving, caring hands that hold back a simmering anger as they feed her. Her father hears an agonised scream; first in months…the mocking picture in the paper …he has been set free…to hunt flesh again. No other victim, she decides, ready to fight him….

 (Dedicated to the latest victims of rape in my small city, a 14 and a 4 year old, may they find the strength to fight back...)

The Victim No Longer

Another night, broken spirit, aching body, skin black and blue. He laughed when she threatened to complain, the false sense of security his diplomatic immunity brought him....

She tolerated thus far for the sake of their child...whose sad eyes now saw what she sought to hide. Now or never she told herself, had been a victim long enough.

Letting go of family pride, she went to the authorities in her adopted land to complain....protection she sought from him, who had terror wrought.

Action was swift, safe house, her refuge...him, her country recalled, stripped of self proclaimed glory.

(Based on the the latest story in the news of the wife beating, now ex Indian diplomat, posted in Britain and called back by the Indian Government, his wife in hiding... and many such victims of domestic violence - both men and women.)

Fair Weather Pal

He followed her on her stroll, till the wafting aroma of chicken beckoned him. She was deserted again. So much for inviting her best friend.

The Conversation

“Will this ever end?....the Country is going to the dogs“, as he switched of the I phone. "I have stopped watching the news channels” his colleague while maneuvering his way through Bangalore roads. "Scams after scams...the Radia tape, land grabs,the 2G scam..." said the fiddler. The driver replied "Even vegetable prices are sky high...hoarding, corrupt middleman " while trying to cut the red signal ...Just their luck,a traffic cop emerges out of nowhere. After minutes of pleading their innocence, the first one slips a 500 rupee note into the greased hands, driving off without a second thought...

 (Based on the corruption and our own - Indian citizens contribution to the endemic.)

The Mischief I have Been Upto

Time to let out the talker in me...

I don't know about vous people, but I do a lot of blog hopping....

The world is a big fat oyster, how can I be satisfied with a few pearls of (not sure about the) wisdom (part)...

Anyway lets not dilly dally and move on to the Crux of the matter. As said above, I came across this fancy little badge in one of the writer's blog, Green monkey tales, me thinks...Your Badge

I write like

Chuck Palahniuk

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Now being a Gemini and a Bombayite, how on earth could I refrain from checking out new things (and guys, remove your heads from the gutter) ??? 

So the curious, consequently, bad girl in me posted a few short stories (those few hapless souls who do venture and are forced to read would admit, they are shorter than average posts) from her microfiction blog into their track box and waited rather impatiently for the analysis....

Guess what happened each time that almost, well almost...the doctor says she has a pretty strong heart.... gave her a cardiac arrest!!

 Her first attempt at a true sad love story was written in David Foster Wallace style (a guy she has never heard of before, now dead) and whose titles go like Brief Interviews With Hideous Men and The Girl With Curious Hair.

More shock was when her humorous take  on ear piercing was in the style of Stephen King, the famous writer of horror fiction.

 Worse to follow was that her true emotional story on the loss of a close friend was in 

H.P. Lovecraft style. He was a leading twentieth-century American author of supernatural fiction like  Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre, The Definitive : 67 Tales of Horror   

 Last but not the least , her one attempt at a love story and a tale of 3 friends at the mall was in Chuck Palahniuk style, the author of Choke, Snuff and Fight Club, yes, the movie by the same name...in this case the chicken came before the egg I.e. the book came before the movie...

Anyway, what the hell Am I supposed to make of this....I write sad and funny stories like horror novelists or love stories in battle style...

Serves me right, some might say....just like placing your hand on a flame is not the smartest way to learn fires are dangerous things....just like a trying a fag for fun's sake  at 22 and coughing your lungs out and eating 3 bars of dairy milk to get rid of the ash taste wasn't one of the smartest thing to do...guess, some of us never learn and off we go where even vultures don't dare ....they are busy dying out is a different story all together...

This self professed writer is at her wit's end...she doesn't want to drive away her few followers with tales written badly... so does she continue to write as before and dismiss the tool for what it is. a lot of bullshit or stop writing....

In case some among you are wondering if this is a post to get readers for her other blog, please be assured she has other stratagems in place to garner comments traffic namely joining poetry and story meme blogs...he he to my ex hubby who thought I'll never get street smart...

There, my pessimist twin is murmuring already....what? that like other better posts before (in her humble opinion), this too will not be commented upon...

So, before I take my humble leave, the one among you who has time on his hands and bored enough do read and leave a musing back....reward? did I hear, well, I will add you to my blog roll and if you are already there, promise to visit regularly...

# 25 Random Musings For The Day

You can poke a person on Facebook and may get poked in return....Have you ever tried poking some one in real life???

# 24 Random Musings For The Day

If everyone speaks at the same time, who will listen to what's being said??


By extension if all of us had the same level of intelligence, talent, skills sets or even plain hobbies, what then??
If all were expert painters, who will appreciates the fine nuances and the brush strokes....
If all were talented singers or musicians, who would be there to close their eyes, tap their feet, drum fingers along with the beats and get divinely involved in the song and melody....
If  each of us sat to write books, who will read them and let our pen strokes stoke their imagination and take them to new worlds....
If each one were expert chefs and bakers, who would sample the tasty morsels, loosen their belts and sigh in gastronomic delights....
If everyone was an inventor, who would laugh at first and then one by one use our creations and praise our ingenuity....
And so on....if all of us were well accomplished, masters of all the sciences and arts, who would be left to listen, question, appreciate, approve, enjoy, praise, utilise......
It is the ordinary one with limited talent, often few skills, average intelligence who sits back and watches the various masters at work..
Even a Guru is incomplete without disciples to preach....
Take heart those among us who can't create , spin words, wield a brush or a ladle.....it is You, the audience that makes the accomplishments worthwhile.....
For, every performer needs not empty seats but at least one pair of hands that clap.....

The Trip

Haji Ali Promenade, Mumbai

She lingered at

old haunts,

some unchanged,

some long gone

flashes of days gone by

all hues, all shades

the week gone

in a daze

she sees them still

sad, smiling faces

a friendly hug

a kiss on the forehead

back to the new land

of self imposed exile

to the life 

unknown, unheard

looking at 

the open suitcase

wondering aloud 

can one pack  

twenty seven long years 

into this??

The Valentine - Drabble Dare # 12

The Right Mistake

She closed her eyes and sighed, lost in her reverie. 

The shadow crept silently, stealthily forward.

Took her gently in its arms and kissed her

slowly but with hidden passion.

After what seemed like eternity she opened her eyes....

her smile frozen in place .

She pulled away hastily and exclaimed

"Pray tell the meaning of this, Ferdinand?"

"The Baron's wishes, my command...whatever it takes

 to bring a rosy tint on my fair lady's face..."

Not her idea of prince charming and yet...

The note fluttered to the ground.

'Hold on my love, till we meet again - your valentine',

 already forgotten as he bent down for one last kiss.

( Dare Hosted by  Burrowers, Books & Balderdash )

word counter

# 23 Random Musings For The Day

Would love to wish you a Happy New Year but which one....the half a dozen Hindu/Indian ones, Buddhist, Chinese, Japanese, Islamic, Gregorian, Jewish, Zoroastrian,  Native American, Celtic, Druid, African.....???

For more Click Here Different New Years Days From Around The World
                                 New_Year