Wednesday, 31 July 2013


I have made an attempt at writing both the themes.Hope the readers find them interesting.


A red rose adorned his dark blue suit. His face was a picture of serenity,
when she had a last look at her husband's face. The coffin was lowered
into the grave. She suppressed a tiny sob. All the mourners reached home.
Her sister helped her change into a black dress from her bridal gown.


His estranged wife came to collect his body. He fell from the cliff
 when clicking the first rays of the sun. The forensic report was on the
 table when the policeman looked at her suspiciously. A deal was
 struck to divide the property into two. Her hair strands were
entangled on her husband's dead fingers.


Tuesday, 30 July 2013


Today is the last day of UBC , but I feel this is just the beginning of many more bigger things to come. In this month I have learnt many new things, read many good works and have known some people. A big thanks to UBC, WT,Corinne and all my co-bloggers.



The glittering solitaires
strewn across the dark blanket.
A poet's longing and desires
to pluck, lay into the straw basket.

A bride in finery
adornments in all silvery
Thou deck up at night.
all day hide in veil,nowhere in sight.

Sitting on the window-sill, I looked up from my note-pad.

Writing this celestial poem, I dialled his number and told about my well-laid out plan. A true romantic by heart, my fiance agreed without a second thought.

The open sky and the diaphanous tent were the right ingredients for an outing and the thrill of experiencing the poetic journey.Do all poets really try out this?

The night was on its way on a youthful journey, the clear calm clouds,the moon in its waning crescent shape,the shy stars, peeping out of their veil, looked down literally , on our nocturnal rendezvous and we looked up, to them, as young lovers, arms wrapped around each other with starry dreams in our eyes.The cool breeze caressing our exposed bodies sent us closer to each other. The scent of the wild flowers wafted with the breeze as an accompaniment, to fill our nostrils. The palm trees rubbing each other as newly weds romping together on the beach of Goa.

I patted my back on my impulsive decision to spend the night in the open, rather than in the air-conditioned cottage of the 'Sea-Shells Resort'. This was a different experience for a practical person like me. Perhaps the potion of love and the solitaires in the sky had its effect on me and I was beginning to feel its after-math,albeit, a lovely one.

I was still basking and glowing in my new-found experience when I felt a stinging stab of pain on my right cheek. Had he suddenly sprouted needle like fangs? Or was he a Dracula in guise of my beloved? I lightly slapped my cheek and in the glow of my cell-phone examined my palm.I froze.Words barely escaped out of my throat. And he asked if everything is all-right. Nothing is right, thought I.The darkness and the lack of any signs of civilisation made me feel like a scene in a horror movie but for a few minutes ago, was all bliss. Blood! I cried. He flashed his cell phone on my face and burst out laughing. Aghast, I asked the reason. He said that I had just killed a mosquito. MOSQUITO! Why didn't I carry an insect spray repellent?. Or at least a cream?. Was my victim an anopheles ? I would be down with malaria. Just then a buzzing sound near my ears magnified.

The whole insect species that I had studied in Biology in school,had descended down on us sending my whole body on an itching spree. An owl hooted in the distant trees, adding to the eerie. Some ants were already sprinting on me, like umpteen Milka Singhs. The night devoid of light added to my confusion  and subsequent irritability.He flashed a pocket torch. The beam of light brought hopes in the ghostly atmosphere. I scurried into the safety of the tent and zipped it tight. It was a relief to be away from the crawlies and the buzzers.But my relief was short-lived. 

After a few minutes the claustrophobic tent sent my palpitations racing. Beads of perspiration sprang on my forehead  and breathing became heavier. I thought I would suffer from a stroke.The sound of ambulance ringing could be faintly heard and I lost

I opened my eyes and could see four heads peering down on me. 

The duo smiled and  assured me that I was fine.

My fiance opened the window and the light rays of the sun filtered into the room. I had spent the whole night in the hospital.Thank God it was day-time.

I decided henceforth, I would confine myself to writing about Nature and its breath-taking beauty in the safe realms of my my air-conditioned studio apartment. The night would be beautiful and serene when viewed from familiar surroundings, without the company of ants and insects.

My mind would do the traversing into unknown and uncharted  territories and my physical being safe into the brick and mortar haven.

All images  are Goggle Images.
This is a work of fiction.


Monday, 29 July 2013


They rushed to the City Central Hospital with hopes in their heart and a prayer on their lips.They both expected a miracle to reverse the worst  fear that their inner mind was forecasting. Shankar Shastri knew his losing  battle with the inevitable but Janaki Shastri had a faint glimmer  of hope as a mother hopes the best for her child. Her unflinching faith in God gave her an opportunity to cling on to the  slender twig of hope.

They reached the Intensive Care Unit of the Hospital and saw through the clear glass barrier that separated them from their only son, fighting a losing battle of life and death.They could get only a glimpse of their  son and were quickly ushered out while the father of the patient was called to sign papers. Janki with a host of her relatives who  had gathered in their hour of need and tragedy sat on the cold metals chairs in the lobby where  a marble statute of Lord Ganesha was installed. Her gaze fell on the idol and she closed her eyes to say a silent prayer as she had done  exactly a month ago.

A month ago .......................

She was waiting patiently at the entrance of their row house craning  her neck to get a glimpse of Raja riding the bike.She garlanded the bike, anointed the black metallic vehicle with  kumkum and haldi (red and yellow powder) and Raja completed the  auspicious ritual by breaking the coconut in front of his prized possession.It was his 21st birthday. It was a gift from his father as he had got a job in a MNC.


A month later he was involved in an accident . His dream vehicle was crushed beyond recognition and so were the hopes of his parents.

Shankar Shastri came out to the lobby. He suddenly had aged , his gait giving a sign of the turmoil raging in his  heart. He came  and sat  close to his wife whose hopes  were balancing on the precipice leading to an unfathomable valley of death. He took her trembling hands into his and without  making an eye-contact with her, closed his eyes and the tears burst the dam of calm composure that he had been withholding. Janki , too cried. The couple without a single word being uttered ,communicated the worst fear. Raja was  declared brain dead. Their only son lay like a vegetable whom  they had  raised so lovingly. Their hopes of getting him married  and playing with the children that he would have sired , a tradition of seeing the family lineage continue has now ended. Shankar Shastri now had a mammoth task ahead on him. Janki refused to hear his pleas as he tried to make her understand. She argued that it was against tradition and she was a firm believer in re-incarnation. She was sure that her Raja would come back to her in some form but this act of her husband acted as an impediment . Shankar Shastri reminded her of the 'daans' (numerous charities) she had done and this was the highest form of donation and they could be sure of Raja 'living' through the various recipients that would enable to revive the dying hopes of others. Finally Janki agreed to her husband. The doctors were informed and they both signed papers for organ donation.


Losing a loved one is terrible and Shanker Shatri and Janki's grief knew no bounds. But they decided to allow the doctors to harvest the organs of their son to enable others to begin life after Raja's death. This is the highest form of donation and some state governments in India are working  towards the success of organ donation. There are various cumbersome laws . Various NGOs , social workers  and doctors  are working towards raising awareness and  making pleas to individuals to pledge their organs after death.

Readers, do share your views on this delicate but important topic?

Sunday, 28 July 2013


Life a delicate thread,
the length of a span,
snap it will,  dread.
Gingerly,  spread an intricate plan.

But the waves of uncertainty,
lashed to erode the well-crafted strategy,
Alas! like flotsam , tossed around by destiny.
lay broken, a weakened psychology.

I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul,
Thumped proudly bare-chest, till date.
Earth beneath my ground split into a hole .

Cried a voice; an inner voice
"respect the forces of creation"
bow to the fury, I had no choice.
"Halt the advance of invasion."

Go slow! the greatest vice is greed,
for it knows not gender or creed.
Make peace with thyself
foremost conquer thyself.

The great Greek king came to India with an ambition to conquer the world through war and invasion. His mighty army and battle field acumen could not fulfill his ambition. But Gautam Buddha found true meaning of life and hence his preachings are revered.


Write Tribe

Saturday, 27 July 2013

tring tring tring


Begin your blog post this week with, ‘Tring- Tring, the phone rang…!’

Tring- Tring, the phone rang....! 

I was enjoying my Saturday siesta, when the loud ringing sound brought an end to my peaceful sleep.

"Can I speak to Mrs. Kalpana"., the voice at the other end.

"Speaking". said I,still half-asleep.

"Madam, I am Mr. Rakesh Mehra , calling from HoneyMoney Investment  Company. Can you spare  your precious few moments?".

He had already disturbed my precious forty winks and he had all my attention now.

"Bolo" (tell me).

"Madam as you know the sensex is sneezing and market is bearish , this is the ripe time to invest in Mutual Funds."

"Ripe time for whom, the investor or your firm?" I questioned him brazenly.
"Certainly for the investors, madam. After all the investor is the King". I visualized him touching the knot of his neck-tie. A king without a crown or a throne, thought I.

"Last week, you called up to tell me that it was ripe time to invest in shares"
"Madam, that time the market was bullish"
What bulls*** , I thought.

"Madam , the SarlaMoon-life Equity fund is doing well.......
"I have already invested in that MF."

"Madam, an exciting Initial Public Offer is..........
"I do not have faith in IPOs.

"Madam , DependOn Co. 's Non Convertible Debentures offering 15% interest...........
"This Company is embroiled in controversies which is likely to affect its health ."     By health I meant wealth.

His voice was weak and trailing. The buoyant force with which he had started to sell the wares of his firm was now down akin to the diving nose of the sensex. But being a member of the coveted sales fraternity, injecting Vitamin M(oney) into the sagging fortunes of his Investment firm, he was not the one to give up easily. And I was not making
life easy for him.

"Madam, How about Personal Insurance..........
"I am a Class I Government Officer and am fully covered".
I could imagine him swallowing his saliva into his parched throat.

"Madam ,Vehicle Insurance.......
"I do not own one ".
"Madam",suddenly brightening up as a lit candle in a dark room, " HoneyMoney Vehicle scheme can help you to become a proud owner of a four wheeler".
I would be the owner of the vehicle and he would be proud squeezing me dry off my money with hefty interest rate. Cursed I.

I do not have money to pay the petrol bills". lamented I.
"No problem maadaam" ,vibrating as the molecules in the aerated soft drink, "we have a separate loan scheme cell to take care of that too".
"If your Company has enough cash reserves, why doesn't it invest in all the instruments that you have mentioned."
bluntly blurted out I.
My bluntness seems to have driven the knife deep into the skin of his firm, inflicting a  bleeding wound . He said 
 " Thank you, madam for sparing me your precious time. Have a good day".
"You too...............
and the line was disconnected  before I called it a good day.

I got up to prepare a hot cup of tea laced with lemon-grass herb. HoneyMoney Investment Company would never ever disturb my siesta again.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Thursday, 25 July 2013


Give a man a fish and you feed him a meal but teach him to fish and you feed him for life.


The above lines allow one to introspect and take a second look at the act of giving. The ongoing holy month requires a certain religious community to donate generously to the needy. Its a very noble thought and an action. If one is bestowed adequately, he has the option of sharing a part of his wealth with the lesser fortunate people.

When one gives to the other, the relationship of a giver and a taker is established. There is a wafer thin line of demarcation between help and charity. When do the two merge at what point or do they run parallel to each other?


Let us differentiate between the two ,with examples :

An old man is sick,penniless and does not have a family. The Samaritans look after his needs : feed , clothe and take care of his medical needs. It is fully justified.

A Group of Samaritans provide two square meals to a slum colony. Some of the casual labourers take advantage of free meals and choose to abstain from work.
 Are the Samaritans right in continuing the 'good' work? 

When one extends aid , alms , help or charity, it is the right of the giver to see whether it reaches the proper recipient.

An employer keeps aside a certain amount every month for contributing to the fees and school requirements of her maid's child.This act of giving will enhance the future prospects of a less fortunate individual and a family.

Help need not always be contributed in the form of financial help. A person tutoring a group of children from intelligent but poor background is doing a yeoman service.विद्या दान , श्रेष्ठ  दान. 

(Imparting  knowledge is the highest form of donation)

Help a person to pull him/her  out of his pit of difficulties and not cripple him.The act of giving should be voluntary and from the heart.

May I know your views, dear readers?

FOR : ULTIMATE BLOG CHALLENGE DAY 26                   


The glittering solitaires
strewn across the dark blanket
A poet's longing and desires
to pluck, lay into the straw basket.

An astronomer's delight
wakes up all night.
A lover's paradise
Sleep sacrifice.

A sailor's guide
an ally by his side.
When the sun peep
Thou go to sleep

A bride in finery
adornments in all silvery
Thou deck up at night
all day hide in veil,nowhere in sight.

A lighthouse up there.
Thou go to sleep
into the sky deep.



I fell down and was hurt. The impact of the fall made me numb. I looked around to find people around me laughing and  making fun of me. My face felt warm with the sudden gush of blood. My body was bruised. The wounds caused by the fall were not so painful as compared to the hurt and callous attitude of the by-standers.The scars on my body would heal but the scars inflicted on my psyche would take long to heal.

I got up,  dusted my clothes ,'straightened my hair and rolled up my sleeves. I stared hard at the by-standers  and putting my best foot forward, confidently asked whether anyone had not stumbled or fallen on the road of life. They looked at each other nervously and started to disperse. Among the thinning crowd came a maiden  with a twinkle in her eyes and said that she had fallen down many times. Fallen to rise up and
again to fall down. Every fall  is a lesson to keep on trying, harder and harder without committing the same set of mistakes but to be vigilant of every pothole or deathtrap.The fear of  falling flat on the ground  is not akin to defeat but defeat lies in not gathering oneself or the refusal to march forward. It is human to stumble . But it is super-human to get up and try again. The wounds on the body may be gone but the impact of the fall will leave a deep imprint on the mind. This imprint on the mind will act as a reminder of the futile attempts  which in turn will be an impetus to defeat the demon of fear and inch towards the goal.

I extended my hand to the 'fair' maiden. She smiled and extended hers. Together we marched hand-in-hand , ahead. Lady luck had indeed smiled upon me. The dark clouds of uncertainty faded to replace it with sunshine. 



Tuesday, 23 July 2013


In my last post ,  THE ANONYMOUS WELL- WISHER,

we heard one side of the coin . Here is another side to it. Read.............


Kalpana : "The maid hasn't come today and I am dead tired. I have a presentation after 3 days".

Rajiv :  "Hmmmm" . His head buried in the lap-top and the cordless phone on his shoulder , trying to call his office colleague.


Kalpana : "Rajiv, please do the dishes. I am tired". 
raising her voice slightly.

Rajiv : "I will do the dishes tomorrow." 
without even looking up.

Kalpana : Now fuming. "Right now, I said. I am waiting for the past 10 minutes, Rajiv".

Rajiv:  "Instead of standing and shouting, you could have done the dishes by now. Don't you see I am busy."

Kalpana : "Even I have preparations to make for my presentation. I have cooked dinner today. You can do the dishes at least". 


The pitch of their voices filtered through the four walls of their match-box size apartment to reach the ears of their neighbours. Their verbal tirade did not subside . They were now standing face-to-face with their tempers bursting at the seams. Rajiv asked Kalpana to move aside as he wanted to charge his cell-phone. She did not and Rajiv tried to push her out of his way. She lost her balance  and fell on the chair. Rajiv tried to help her but she had tears running down  her eyes. Wiping her wet cheeks , she thundered and threatened that she would file a case of physical and mental cruelty and slap an additional charge of dowry harassment.

Rajiv was stunned. He sat down on the sofa with his head buried in his cupped palms.

The bell rang. Neither of them were in a mental state to answer the door. The bell rang again. Rajiv opened the door . It was their  neighbour, Mr. Iyer , who said that he wanted to use their land-line phone to call the police-station. His sleep was disturbed due to the loud voices of the neighbours.
Rajiv and Kalpana looked at each other with shame written on their faces. They decided to solve their problems amicably without disturbing their neighbours. 

Note  :  This post is not intended to be partial or hurt  anybody but bring to the notice that the very laws meant to protect the victims can be misused.This is a fictional story.

All images are Goggle Images.