Just Another Ordinary Day

The heat seeped in...Sweaty faces everywhere.... patient, stressed, desolate odds...

The lunch break took forever....

The child in the cramped corner bawled incessantly hearing the loud, aggressive voices.

Hush little baby, don't you cry...she whispered to the scared, sleepy child.... the distraught mother who was from a poorer background soothed with kind words of hope...

The bells clanged in the red bricked building, a living testimony of the British Raj....the crowds dissipating into the rooms in the corridor.

They waited silently.....the pronouncement was as expected. Minutes later, handing her the cheque; asking her to use wisely not just the money but the chance at a meaningful life...

Dedicated to Ms. Rajalaksmi, my firebrand divorce lawyer who won an election in my home state last week and has become a Member of the State Legislature...she had hinted at our last meeting of a role in politics but this was unexpected....I hope she uses her new powers for the betterment of women, especially victims of domestic violence.

Mother's Day - Haiku 14

Image courtesy where did my smile go

World's force feeding /

Turning poison to nectar /

 A mother's touch //

Zeitgeist?? # 35, # 36 And # 37 Random Musings For The Day

Is today's "shout out to be heard" world not really for introverts and shrinking wall flowers  ???......

Is a pretty face a prerequisite for a singer or can the voice outshine everything else???

A post on Susan Boyle and her acidic reception on Britain's got Talent on a blog I visited got me thinking.....

Does character assault and bullying start at kindergarten??

Yesterdays - At The O.T

Oblivious to all, pain and blood…she lay, her wounds being sutured, her right leg amputated below her knees…a journey, fending off robbers of her gold chain, a fall from a speeding train…and the volleyball player's dream lay shattered on the tracks. Right now, blissfully unaware of the blame game and aspersions cast on her story.

He was dying; he knew it as did the surgeons…..the woman on the plastic chair looked distraught and scared. A freak accident, her fault. Nobody told her, opening the car rear doors in a busy street could cause a biker a bleeding, painful end. She mulled their fate as those moments passed before her eyes.

They held hands, hope in their speaking eyes, prayer on their silent lips….they shared a loss neither regretted; their husbands shared more than a common affliction. They would be sharing theirs spouses kidney swapped. An uncommon exchange, perfect matches among then strangers.  A difficult sacrifice, would theirs better halves have done the same for them?

Xanthippe Widow

Image courtesy Claude Renault

She stood in the doorway, a creased face, paan stained red lips and a perpetual frown on the face….

A scowl said that I was standing in her way….She grumbled at "today’s kids" and their lack of traditional values….Funny, she should consider a 30 something one…

My friend was irritated at the stooping old woman as she walked fast for her age, despite her cane.

We made our way to the temple, there she was, the one I bumped into…she reprimanded me for not covering my head… I laughed and informed her that in our community only widows of old wore them that way….

Her eyes watered and she slunk away without taking her evening meal, the free Prasadam offered to the devotees.

 I felt guilty, the price of having a nagging voice in the head that enjoyed lecturing to my discomfort.

Back at the cottage I questioned the caretaker about her as she swept the verandah…

Married off at 12, send to live with her in-laws and absentee husband at 14, widowed at 17, the childless, now, 70 year old thrown out of her marital home a year later for being unlucky…Vrindavan had been her haven for the past five decades…

Doing odd jobs, eating at temples, spending the night at the cottage premises…she had it lucky than many others out in the temple town or other places…

Time and people had made her what she was today….and yet she blamed no one but her bad karma for a life without a husband… ironic that mine was alive and yet not a part of my life anymore and nobody seemed (well who am I kidding) bothered by it.

Life for a poor widow in rural India is often a nightmare…the woman’s life marked by the father, husband and then son…she on her own had no voice, no freedom, no rights, no dreams, no hopes…

Long after I boarded the train back to the safety of my home…her face and her story haunted my thoughts….till today…hopefully, the voice won’t nag me about her anymore….

*Xanthippe : nagging, peevish, ill - tempered woman

 344 words to be made into 500

Valiant Spirit

"Akshay" meaning
 'Eternal, immortal, indestructable

 a short post on my nephew  akshay who celebrated his  first birthday last week…he is just one of the thousands of babies born everyday, you might say…but he is special not just because he is my Brother’s kid but because of the fact that he is a fighter to the core…

He was born too early, almost two months before time…a premature baby whose first home after his mother’s comforting womb was the incubator….he was not alone, more than enough company but that doesn’t take away the pain, the fear, the worry, the heartache watching a tiny baby with more tubes than his tender body could hold, more medicines than an adult can withstand….

The thrill of hearing him cry, the joy of seeing the relief on his parents' face when he was certified as healthy enough to be taken home, the satisfaction at seeing him grow slowly, millimetre by millimetre, Grams by grams is something one can only experience…

The picture at the side belies the trauma this sweet angel of ours underwent at a nascent stage of his hopefully long, healthy, happy life. His smile, mischievous ways, tantrums belies the struggles, making them a distant memory best carpeted…

Unstable Undetected??

Glances here, there, everywhere


pain, heartache never ending, relentless...






A brewing storm, clutching at ribs,


Dragon's fire - belching bolts


the heart asunder.


 dull eyes, shimmer less gaze,


blank stares, sees no face


tethering on the edge, 


thin line divides


sanity and craze.






Bright lights invisible


to all save one


pulls on, farther away.


mind craves, falters, yields to


the cold caress of light and dark in turn


echoing laughter off the wall, rebounds.






Flowing torrent as sudden as death,


dim recognition fails, gone for now,


 in the blink of an eye.

Torturous Days

Life is never straight nor calm, tragic

when he turns on that so called charm

Not a funny bone in the body

and yet speak of comic timing.

 The party is on in full swing

wishing you have a shift to still be in.

The stunned silence isn't quite adulation

the life of this one?, funny thought.

Costume themed? definitely not.

 Bet, you purposely forget.

 Blue velveteen and floppy ears

stands out among jeans and T shirts

This to mock me, I know

Easter bunny stunt pulled out,

just means, "now is time"

to give you the marching lines...

Added To Saturday Centus

Silly Story - Cat Tales - 1

He slouched lazily on the loft looking haughtily at the customers, visitors and owners alike . He declared himself almost bored, when he saw her....aah...he thought, straightening up, finally some one to impress and end the day on a  high note. He got up, swished his tail, stretched himself to his magnificient length and wiggled around to rid himself of all the dust and dirt...Walked all the way to the end in a manner that would put ramp models of Paris out of work. He stood at the edge, gazing at the rafter a few feet away with one critical eye, the other on her....yes, her attention was still on him. That's all he needed...he jumped James Bond style (making Sir Sean Connery proud, if only he knew), he would never reveal but for a second before his paws felt solid wood, he was scared shitless. She was watching in awe....and his chest puffed with pride. He stood planning his next stunt to floor her completely, when her attention was diverted to the task at hand. He waited patiently for her to look up but it seemed like he was forgotten. 'Hmmph, I'll show her still', with this thought he jumped without hesitation, over 5 feet to land with a loud thud on cartons near her. She was startled, and turned to her side to find him next to her, a proud stance, a smirk, a look which said, "A perfect shot, won't you say?".  Before she could stage a witty comeback, he leapt of the cartons, slunk away (some would say in his wild cousin cheetah’s style) with a true blue Cheshire grin, never glancing back...Leaving her to rue not taking a picture....but pray, who ventures into the friendly neighbourhood fruit vendor's shop with a digital camera in tow!!!!

(P.S. don't even mention your mighty IPhones & Blackberry's...their picture clarity and quality is nowhere near even the modest of Digi's. )

RandomMusings For The Day #33 and #34

If Black is the colour of darkness, why does every woman worth her salt fancy a little black outfit for those "wow" moments.


Why is it, if you do your thing, you are staying true to character.....but if I do my thing, I am an older woman rebelling??


P.S : Thanks to A.M. Trumble at http://www.bttrflyscar.blogspot.com for deeming me worthy of the stylish blogger award. :)