Friday, 21 July 2017

(pie)ce of my mind.


July 20, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a pie. You can make it any kind of pie, focus on filling or crust, or tell us about the pie-maker. How does pie set a tone in a story? Does it warm the hearth or bring disappointment?

She bought all the ingredients from HyperCity.

                                    There is no market for my emotions.

Sieving the flour, granulated-sugar, baking-powder.

                                   Sifting my anger from my failures I should take stock of   
                                  my residual expectations.

Kneaded the dough firmly.

                                 I have to shape and mould my ambitions to rise in life.

She stuffed crushed dry-fruits into the pastry and covered it.

                               My confidence needs to be upholstered to boost my image.

The oven is heated up.
                              The fire in me has to be re-kindled.

The pie is baked to be devoured by family.

                             I am going to be MasterChef on television.

                                                 Image result for a lady chef

written for  :  Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction.  Thank you Charli Mills.


HyperCity is a supermarket chain.


Haiku Horizons prompt “dark”

the dark moor of venice

rips open her heart

a faithful wife inside

                                        written for : Haiku Horizons

                                         Read more about Othello

                               Read all the wonderful haiku HERE

Thursday, 20 July 2017

blame game


                                                                                      PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham

“I always stand by you when your aces are down”, an agitated Angela

“You turn your back when I need you the most”, raising her tone.

“Where are you when I need a shoulder to lean on?” grinding her teeth.

“I bail you out when you default on your car EMI”, shrieking and pointing her index

finger towards the blue vehicle.

“For God’s sake keep the ‘I' and ‘You’ out, can’t you for once say ‘WE’?”, a hurt but composed


Her anger melts to tears rolling down her crimson cheeks and she spreads her arms to 

envelope him.


                   Written for Friday Fictioneers. Thank you Rochelle Wisoff.

                        Also linking this post to Six Sentence Stories # Stand. Thanks Zoe.


Wednesday, 19 July 2017

the haughty Princess

100 Word Wednesday: Week 28


Image by Bikurgurl

Her dowry boasted of gold, diamonds and rare precious stones besides delicate blue-and-

white porcelain-ware which were family heirloom supposedly from the treasures of Ming 


She dusted her collection and displayed it to the royal visiting guests of the palace. The 

awe struck guests envied the pieces of priceless art but sniggered behind closed doors 

about the Princess’s fate.

She ruled her subjects with an iron hand.

Her husband, a nobleman, left her and her land never ever to return.

It was rumoured that the nobleman found her trousseau inadequate.

Love, compassion, respect were the virtues she was bereft of.

Written for : 100 Word Wednesday.Thank you Bikurgul.

Readers can comment on my Facebook Page if unable to comment here :

nipped in the bud

Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, July 19th 2017, holiday / vacation

Image result for Radhanagari Beach

(Google Image)

Simran sunk her toes into the pristine sand of Radhanagari beach. 

The stunning scenes seemed surreal. Today she ticked off one destination from her bucket list.

The other places will have to wait till she soaks into the Havelock experience. Raj had 

spent more time on their honeymoon plans than their wedding.

They were to return to Port Blair the next day.

The horizon suddenly changed. Huge tongues of water leapt swallowing everything on the 

way to the shore. Cries of helplessness shrieked the air.

fury lashed
drowning hopes
corpses floating

26th December 2004 was a Black Boxing Day.

                                   Written  for : Heeding Haiku With Chevrefeuille at MLMM.

word count : 99

Tuesday, 18 July 2017

the worn-out steps

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

FFfAW Challenge-Week of July 18, 2017


This week's photo prompt is provided by J.S. Brand. Thank you J.S. for our photo prompt!

100-175 words.

The stone steps, many of them worn out, beckoned to tread on them. A pair of sneakers, unsteady

and hesitating started the journey. His mind kept counting. Fifty to be precise and he woke up, with

beads of perspiration on his forehead. He reached a dead-end every New Moon night without fail.

Psychiatrists dismissed his nightmare when they could not decode it.

The school-picnic had been a distraction and a welcome change for Abraham.

Picnickers spread their sheet on the uneven lawns and finished off their packed goodies and 


Abraham turned and ran towards the hill. Overgrown weeds flanked the wrinkled steps.

Folklore said that the feet that climbed never came down.

The cries of his class-mates fell on his deaf ears, he kept advancing.

His mind had counted fifty.

The local-folks gave a warm welcome to Abraham.

He didn’t visit the psychiatrist the next new Moon.

       Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thank you, Priceless Joy.


Read all the wonderful stories HERE.


Twittering Tale #41 – 18 July 2017


The sign ahead read,"reach in one piece, not in pieces".

My family's smiling photo on dashboard stared at me.

I slowed down.

           Written for  : Twittering Tale # 41 -18th July 2017.Thank you Kat Myrman.

124 characters.

Sunday, 16 July 2017

The School

                 Sunday Photo Fiction – July 16th 2017

11 07 July 16 2017 Mike Vore Oh My Photos

© Mike Vore

Troubling was brewing In Gangasagar’s school. The structural engineers had already 

written its obituary. But Gangasagar was not the one to bury his late father’s dream. It 

had been built on the solid foundations of altruism and compassion and couldn’t be 

demolished, he reasoned and consoled himself. But in the darkest moments he felt he 

was fighting a losing battle but he wished not to expose his frailties to the people who

had pinned their hopes on him.

The school had survived on the largesse of some Mumbai citizens.

The Municipal Corporation had plans to demolish it. Gangasagar had managed to get a 

stay order from the judiciary. The land sharks were ready to extract their pound of flesh.

“Hope the new Municipal Commissioner intervenes”, he said to himself.

A stranger enters Gangasagar’s humble abode and greets him with a ‘Namaste’.

The stranger tell how Gangasagar’s father’s generosity had touched him and he was able 

to graduate from a chaiwallah to his present position.

He further elucidated that the dilapidated school would be rebuilt and the poor students 

could continue their studies without any hitches.

Gangasagar received a fresh lease of life.

The stranger was the new MC. 

                                          Written for :  Sunday Photo Fiction July 16th 2017


Read all the wonderful entries HERE

Notes : Chaiwallah is a a boy who brews and sells tea.

MC - municiapal commissioner.

Namaste - Indian way of greeting.

Saturday, 15 July 2017

Thank you Hanuman-ji.

             Weekend Writing Prompt #11 – Guardian

Prose Challenge – Write a fairy tale in 150 words or less that has a guardian-type figure / creature in it.

                                      Image result for pic of hanuman ji

(Google pic)

As she neared the pulpit with a strange concoction of hubris and innocence, the hall 

would witness some fireworks.

“The blessings from the clouds have turned our island city into a marooned Mumbai. 

Today being the elocution competition and the school-bus could have reached my street,

asked Papa if any of our neighbours had a boat so I could row and reach the school-


Mom asked me to pray to God. I closed my eyes and prayed to Hanuman-ji, my favourite 


 “I opened my eyes and Hanuman-ji was in front of me”. The hall heard collective sounds 

of surprise.

“I mounted on His back and we flew over the Mumbai waters. Hanuman-ji dropped me at 

the school-gate and waved good-bye”.

Kalpana got the first prize for her imagination.

Later she told me that since it is her story she could bring alive any character. I couldn’t 

be wrong.

     Written for  : Weekend Writing Prompt # 11-Guardian. Thank you Sammi Cox.

Notes : 

Read more about Hanuman-ji, the Indian God.

Kalpana : name of an Indian girl which means ideas.

It is rainy season in India and Mumbai is witnessing heavy downpour. Public transport is 

crawling and people are not reaching their destinations on time.

Green monster

        Weekend Writing Prompt #11 – Guardian


Poetry Challenge – Write a limerick inspired by a grotesque

Grotesque from Shrewsbury

all day long he ate Cadbury

tourist saw him cute and sweet

with a smile and no teeth

At night, he drank Bloody Mary.

Written for : Weekend Writing Prompt # 11 -  Guardian

Read about Cadbury.

Friday, 14 July 2017

stitch sew and mend

Daily Prompt – Tailor

with her arched back

a bent head, she works

the midnight lamps she burns

respect she earns

fingers rhythmically moved

no respite , she never slowed

hands calloused by  thread

she earns her butter and bread

she pricks a buttonhole

sews dispersed souls

she is her brood's hope

bonds them with  rope

she is not just a Tailor

of deep seas a brave sailor.

 garments she crafts with honesty

covers not only curves

but highlights a lady's modesty.

ground crisis

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about an unexpected landing. It can be acrobatic, an unplanned move or created into a metaphor. 

The geography of Leh had many an experienced pilots short of anxiety bouts. But for 

Captain Sharma this was a cake-walk.

A co-pilot greeted him,”Juleh”.

Inhaling the fresh mountain air, he checked his messages.

He sat down with a thud.

The landing and maneuvering of the giant metallic bird in a tough terrain proved to be 

easier than handling his domestic crisis. His larynx ran out of fuel. The air pressure in his 

eardrums had dropped low. His better half was leaving him with a bitter taste. Alimony 

compounded with fear stared bleakly at him. She had enough proofs. 

               written for Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction. Thank you, Charli Mills.


Read about Leh Airport.

Read about Juleh.

Thursday, 13 July 2017

The dare-devil


100 Word Wednesday: Week 27


Nicolas Picard

Vidya’s gaze involuntarily goes up at the figure swirling on the bike, doing double 

somersaults and breath-taking feats in air defying gravity.

The sound of applause breaks her reverie.

“It is past your bed-time, put off the television set”, raising her motherly voice above the 

decibel of roaring motor-bike to her twins.

The quiet night haunts her past.

She had followed in the footsteps of her academically oriented parents to wield the 


Anila defied the family tradition to take up martial arts and dare-devilry. She was a 

celebrated Stunt-woman in Bollywood.

Vidya saw her twin only on television screen.

                   written for : 100 Word Wednesday

Vidya - name of Indian girl which means knowledge.

Anila- name of Indian girl which means wind.

Bollywood - Motion Picture Industry of Mumbai, India.


              Three Line Tales, Week 76

                    three line tales week 76: a woman dancing on a tennis court

                                             photo by Sam Burriss via Unsplash

Her rhythmic moves satiate her deep desire, she is poetry in motion.

She waits for all eyes to go into deep slumber and sneaks out to take refuge on the 

wooden floor.

The forbidden fruits are always sweet and this is no exception for the Indian Princess 

whose ancestry has consigned this art to the subaltern masses.

          Written for Three Line Tales Week 76 . Thank you Sonya.

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt (& give them a title if possible).

Wednesday, 12 July 2017

living dead

The candle sits tall on the bronze stand. It begs the matchstick to strike a light.

The glass jar lay on the table with colorful candies seen peeping through the 

transparent sides.

The window had remained bolted and the screws and hinges have rusted due to inaction. 

Spiders seem to rule the space having woven a maze of webs.

The creepers helplessly stare inside.

The room of her mind is dark, neglected and hopeless.

He seemed to have taken her spirit of living along with him.

Her three year old had been her apple of her eye.

Her bereavement continues.

Written for  : Friday Fictioneers. thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


Read all the wonderful stories HERE.


root hair

Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge – Week 53 – Roots & Wisdom

          wisdom grows in roots
          unseen from world
          fruits are seen
          my grey hair dyed
          wisdom in roots unseen

Image result for roots of hair greyImage result for roots of trees

written for : Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge-week 53.

(google pics)