Sunday, 30 August 2015

Morning walk

The grass beneath her bare feet sent acupressure points activating with every


Image result for a man stepping out of a framed photograph of a beautiful scenery
Filtered sunlight soaked her skin.

She stepped out of the framed scenic painting hung 

on the wall into her apartment.

Sipping her tea, she guards her secret, the potion to 

her eternal youth.

Her morning ritual sacrosanct.

         Imaginative, almost.


Saturday, 29 August 2015


        sprinting flow
    thru forest gorges
       satiates Nature

twin waterfalls
from her almond eyes
his heart melts

Written for : carpe-diem-807-waterfall-reprise

Wednesday, 26 August 2015


Confusion ran amok.


The carcass lay sprawled,


parasites feasting.

Wiping off the perspiration beads, the Forest Ranger.

Kaziranga statistics dwindled by one, inching towards extinction.

Traditional Chinese medicine demanded it.

The prized horn is the grazer’s uniqueness, its nemesis. Alas!



Tuesday, 25 August 2015

seen unseen

"I can see the well-worn out boots, but can't feel or touch them. Is this a

sort of  mirage?"

"Well, it's a long story", the farmer taking deep breaths. He had narrated 

the tale umpteen times to gazillion strangers but each time it sent his 

heartbeats pulsating.

The excitement was palpable for the journalist.

Joe was walking along the curve of the road when a car 
negotiating the bend, lost control. Joe's feet were
crushed under the impact and he was hospitalized.

Till today the vehicles mysteriously slow down near the bend of the 

country side road as if paying respects to the departed soul. He

stands guard, his boots seen as a grim reminder to avert any future

collisions .

The journalist couldn't believe his eyes when the photo clicked on his

cell-phone camera revealed only the bend of the road. 

“Joe despised publicity", said the farmer, reading the journalist's mind.

“The weathered foot-wear has seen forty summers", the journalist gasped.

Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting  Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  and

Dawn M.Miller for this week's colourful photo prompt.


word count : 160

Sunday, 23 August 2015


The Grammar Ghoul Press has asked writers this week, in exactly 39 words, to write a story
or poem using
1 : keen, sharp

a path, trail, or road made by the passage of animals, people; also : footprint


The downpour had washed away clues that ordinary mortals

could perceive.

But Nature has a way of preserving the inevitable,

a trace.

Feluda's trenchant pupils scanned the wet ground. 

Confession spouted from gardener's limp.

Buried weapon unearthed the murderer.


Note :  Know more about Feluda HERE

Saturday, 22 August 2015



“It’s so succulent ", biting into every morsel of the crustacean.

“……….and a prized delicacy for its rarity".

"Hope it will not be confined to just being a member of the zodiac constellation”.

“Look there ", pointing to the oil painting on the Michelin restaurant wall.

"This water spouting Piscean mammal actually swam across the oceans".

"The last of the species was hunted for its meat and oil three decades ago".

From being abundant to endangered. Finally, extinct species.

Sigh. A colossal loss.

A wave of stoic silence hit the partying group.

The birthday boy stared at his succulent piece.


                       Written for : Friday Fictioneers

                      Blue Ceiling FF

Click HERE to read all the FF enteries.

Friday, 21 August 2015

I would never forgive....

Wordy Wednesday #3- August 2015 #SentencePrompt

this Week: Sentence Prompt  I would never forgive her for what she’d done.

Seeing both of them locked in a passionate embrace, he storms out of the 

thatched hut searing with rage.

The shimmering water starts to flow backwards, the monkeys chatter 

wildly and the petals huddle closely embracing their fragrance.

The celestial beings hide behind the clouds to watch the earthly 


"I will never forgive her for what she'd done", and a curse escapes his 

volcanic throat.

Gathering his angvastram and having satiated his lust he beats a hasty 

retreat leaving her at the mercy of her old husband.

                   Ahalya waits for Lord Rama's feet to touch her stone body.

                                Written for : B-A-R- Wordy Wednesday.

 Click   HERE  to read all the wonderful B-A-R- entries. Happy reading.

Click HERE to read more about Ahalya.

Read more about angvastram HERE

Wednesday, 19 August 2015


                                           Image result for pics of eraser                                           


undo pencil marks

on pages, white.

Aha, childhood.

Footprints into adolescence threshold 

pimples, exam stress and broken hearts.

Band-Aid for Cupid's arrows?

                                                  Image result for pics of eraser and broken hearts

Or a stone shield?

A magic eraser to rub the slate clean.

Begin anew with every fall or error.


Saturday, 15 August 2015

Shooed off


Their rendezvous on the bright maroon and white wall failed to perk up her mood.

The aroma of freshly baked pizza made her aware of her gnawing hunger pangs.

The buzz of youngsters inside cordoned them off making them aware that their species was not welcomed.

She cajoled him to enter the spacious joint.

Wanting to impress his lady-love, he made a brave attempt.

A pair of gloved hands shooed them off.

They scampered and their maiden date nipped in the bud.

"I will open a pizza joint exclusively for moths", said he, pacifying his green partner.

“Amen”, said she.

Erie Canal

                              Written for : Friday Fictioneers 

Read all the FF stories HERE

Friday, 14 August 2015

extraordinary vision


The cop caught him staring at the blank wall.

“There’s an old woman with broken teeth trapped


His clairvoyant eyes could see beyond the walls.


Friday, 7 August 2015


              PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods
                                                          PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods

The humid Mumbai air wrapped warmth around her as she sat huddled.

The waves lapped against the tetrapods insinuating of some company.

The eerie silence compounded with the luminous moon peeping slyly 

through the stirring branches seemed more ghoulish. Thoughts flowed 

seamlessly in the quietude and translated into the nib moving furiously 

on paper. 

                           She preferred words on her screen.

The door creaked and faint light invaded her dark bedroom.

Standing in the doorway was her mother, "Ananya, off to bed. Only ghosts 

write at night".

                         "Ï am ‘ghost’ writing for my papa".

                 An invisible loving hand caressed her head.

                                 Written for :  Friday Fictioneers

                           Ellehcor Banner FF

Wednesday, 5 August 2015


Stood on patio

my arms encircled

around his life.

Wife waltzed away.

Barking sounded nearer.

"They bark only at thieves".

A thief lurking inside me,

stolen another women's home.

Could I build an eternal nest

in his heart, on foundation of guilt?