Election-time

Leader : Namaste!!! , Do I need to introduce myself? 

                                        

Hands folded and flashing a wide grin.

Person 1 : Never seen you?

Rolling his eyes, the person turns the other way.

Person 2 :  I care not who you are. 

Picking the newspaper , he covers his face to avoid the leader's glance.

Leader : well, er, I am contesting for the Lok Sabha elections (Lower House of the Parliament) . I am splashed all over the newspapers and.....

Person 3 : I read only Corporate news and Sports.

Leader : How sporting of you.!!! 

The grin widens and so does his malice.

Person 4 : What is your party symbol?

Leader : Good question, concerned Nagrik (Citizen). A cast iron skillet is our symbol. Easy to remember.

Person 4 : Is it??? 

A sarcastic smirk makes its appearance  on the expensive business suit.

Air hostess: Leader, please take your seat and fasten your seat belt.

Leader: No hitting below the belt, Hawaii sundari (air-hostess).

And he breaks into peals of laughter.

The eyeballs of the air hostess pop out. She moves ahead, 

closing the windows of the overhead cabins.

 
Air hostess 2 : He is more stupid in person than on Television.  

Chuckling.

Air hostess 1 : Shush. He might overhear you. 

All the passengers are seated and the cabin crew take their positions. The giant bird is airborne. Seat belts are unfastened.

Leader gets up from his seat and again with his hands folded. 

I will propel the country to a smooth take-off towards Vikas( prosperity) if I am elected. 

Person 3 : India Inc. is already cruising on the path of prosperity. 

Person 4 :  what is the significance of your party symbol?

Leader: Rubbing his hands in glee and flashing his dimples.

Again a very intelligent question, concerned Nagrik (citizen). Our cast iron skillet will whip up mouth-watering and healthy gastronomical delights reminding you of your grandma's cooking. Healthy food will usher into a new era. 

Person 1 : Nani yaad aayegi.( difficult task to be accomplished)

Leader smiles , winks and walks to embrace person 1.  

Person 1 is flabbergasted.  The aircraft resonates with boisterous laughter and applause.

                                                      


           The object prompt is: a cast iron skillet.  The setting prompt is: an airplane.

(Google pic)

re'cycle'd memories

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017

WEEK #33

 


                                                           JulyMorgueFile file581316132183

   

She nodded and flashed her infectious smile to acquaintances and strangers alike to 

needle the thread of conviviality as she walked through the market.

Her eyes sparkled as a green bicycle leaned on the brick wall of pizza outlet.

Her caprice lead her to grab the metallic body and clambering on the vehicle, her legs 

moved as the twin wheels obeyed her. Her thoughts raced faster than her.

A voice chasing her momentum gathered speed. Her straw hat turned behind to locate 

the screaming owner of the bicycle whose fingers held a half-eaten pizza piece.

The pedals accelerated to yawn the gap between herself and the pursuer.  She winked 

and smiled mischievously at the stripling, teasing him to run faster.

His heart-beats increased rapidly with his panting strides.

She zig-zagged her speed as he tried to grab her blouse.

Her laughter became gleeful as his legs ran swiftly.

The pathway changed its countenance.

Jennifer’s body tilted as the metallic body lost balance.

“This is how I met Frederick five decades ago”, blurted the septuagenarian as she landed 

in the youthful arms of her ‘follower’. Frederick chuckled from the clouds.

A big pebble brought the chase to a standstill lay unaware.

                 Written for : Flash Fiction for the practical practitioner week # 33

Word count : 200

Caged

Wordy Wednesday #6 at B-A-R

Thank you Sid Balachandran for the lovely picture prompt.

Not every-day am I hurtled at, nay served a delicious lunch of corn cob

garnished with salt and chilli powder. 

The tender kernels were a feast for my infant who gobbled with relish.

A bunch of school-children guffawed at me sending shrill screeches tearing my 

ear-drums.

I thought this behaviour was the prerogative of the apes but these 

two legged species are fierce contenders. A little one climbed deftly on the 

parapet and poised himself between the iron bars. Thank God for the zoo 

authorities for barricading us from the Homo sapiens.

Humans are going back to their roots. Sigh!

                                           Linking to Wordy Wednesday - B-A-R.

                                            

                                                       Read all the awesome posts here.

Teething problems

Teeth are a man's (and woman's) best friend.

The 32 strong soldiers chew and break the food to taste and satiate our hunger pangs prompting us to say, "food for soul". Not a big deal. But ask a toothless person as what pleasure it is to crunch a piece of walnut. 

But when one of the soldier reports sick, the body machinery breaks down and goes for a toss. Clove oil is grandma's home remedy for toothache.

I envy the toddlers who pose for cameras with their toothless smiles.

A dentist's chair is not a snug place to be in. I imagine myself waiting for electrocution. My whole body becomes taut and tense. My mind is a battlefield where the soldiers are attacking each other with spears and swords. Each stare or glare of the dentist into the dungeon of my jaw, pricks and pains me to hell and I would prefer death to extraction or root canal.

I worship my thirty and two pearlies and regular ritual of brushing and flossing is sacrosanct. Yet I am punished for no fault of mine. Sweets and desserts, an irresistible part of my culinary delight have been curtailed due to fear of damage to the inmates of my mouth. A sweet tooth is replaced with a weak tooth.

When the glossy newsprints advertisements and the television commercials flaunt the toothpastes promising to heal sensitive tooth, my heart nay my teeth jump with joy. But the umpteen rub of the aqua blue peppermint paste leaves my sensitive teeth even worse. And I have an inclination to sue the toothpaste companies. 

The toothbrush companies too are not far behind to extract their pound of flesh of my vulnerable mind. The bristles of the tooth brush placed at various angles promise of reaching the most difficult area of the tooth to leave it sparkling clean and fresh  but does not promise a miss to the dentist's clinic. 

A visit to the dental boutique drills a big hole in my pocket and my purse is lighter. The filling of a tooth curtails my visit to my favourite coffee-shop. The budget of a dental crown does not cast a regal look on me. A root canal uproots the tree of my savings.

I enter into the dentist's den as a lamb pushed to the altar of sacrifice.

                               For Yeah Write # 194

Word count : 390

Intruder in the house.

WOW – An animal’s take on things!

“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and man.” ― Mark Twain

This time we’re aiming at making it more creative! You have to write a short story/incident (200-300 words) from an animal’s perspective.

                                                       


I tiptoed , silently without a word  and peered from  behind my favourite hideout , a Warli painting , jutting out my head and  rolled my eyes to get a glimpse of the elegant Lady of the house , her nose buried in the folds of the crisp newspapers probably reading the PETA column. The Man of the house , a hen-pecked one , sat snug on the sofa  sipping green tea and  his eyes glued to National Geographic Channel.  The little girl playing with her teddy bear and pink balloons sat in between them , under their watchful gaze. These humans are obsessed with the four-legged creatures.

The little girl pushed the balloon up with both her hands and it touched the ceiling. WOW! What a pretty balloon, said I. And she caught me admiring the balloon and with a grimace , called out to her mother, " mamma , papa , look Lizzie behind the painting."

In an instant , the adults of the house sprang to their feet and the Man produced a broom out of thin air and was waving it like a sword. The Lady had already jumped on the sofa and was yelling instructions to her better-half to shoo me out of my den.
I wish I could contact Menaka Gandhi  or I will sue them for trespassing on my jurisdiction. The Aam Aadmi's symbol to sweep clean the dirt of corruption is being used as a weapon to evict a harmless lizard . I fill my belly with insects and keep their house clean but these humans exhibit no gratitude. Ungrateful creatures! The Man has succeeded in pushing me out of my cocoon and I am traversing  the length and breadth of the tiny house which has turned into a football ground and my goal is to get out of this cubicle. The little girl (God bless her) opens the main door and I make my way out of their house. They bang the door . 'Atithi Devo Bhava' is not practiced in this house. I am on the streets and homeless. Hello  reader , can I enter your house?


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


List of WOW badges  here.

Guess what.........

I could feel it bulging slightly against the fabric of my trousers. The outline of the circular neat curve, fuelled my hopes. I arched my body forward and tried digging deeper. I could feel the touch of the cold body and I tried to grab it but it kept slipping away from my butter fingers. I had my eyes on the figures , time was running out and the score would increase the next second. 

Her closeness irked me. The strong smell of the jasmine oil from her hair pervaded my nostrils. She was looking into my eyes , questioningly and irritatingly . Angrily , she said , 'Saheb , jaldi karo. Aur bhi customer hai' (Be quick, Sir.There are many customers waiting).

I , too, was losing my patience.  A small groan escaped from my throat . At last , I made a valiant effort with all my might. My fingers  dug deeper with great difficulty and clutched it tightly and fished it out.I held it  in front of her eyes. It was gleaming and so was I. At last I had accomplished the task. There was a satisfied look on her face.I handed it to the lady rickshaw driver. It was a two rupee coin from my trouser pocket and the figure on the fare-meter read Rs.32/-










                                    
  
Hi reader , did you finish reading , now please leave a comment.....


FOR : ULTIMATE DAY CHALLENGE DAY 8

Rhymed confusion

\

Thank you Team Blogadda.

She said ____. He mistook it to be ____.

The words used in the blanks have to rhyme and your post should revolve around the confusion thus created as a result of the miscommunication.

Professor Khanna entered and was a bit surprised to be greeted

by a packed  classroom of smiling students  today , while the other days,

the attendance was very thin. The professor began the lecture  ,

 “filtration is the mechanical  or physical operation which is used

for the separation of solids from the fluids”. The professor cast a glance and

noticed that the students were a bit uneasy. After three quarter hours, the

bell rang and the professor walked out  and a casual glance on the notice

board solved the puzzle.

The previous day  , Professor Aishwarya  Khanna had called the clerk to put up

the topic for the next day’s lecture. She said filtration. He mistook it to flirtation.

Hence her class was packed with eager students to learn a different topic. 

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

the bus journey

This week your post should have five different colours acting as adjectives for five important words, around which your write-up revolves.

e.g. her blue eyes.

Waiting for the N.M.M.T. bus , I adjusted my navy blue tie and checked my watch for the fifth time. Hope I would not be late.

The blood red  monster , halted to a smooth stop and commuters hurriedly boarded the bus. 

The AC environs of the bus was a welcome relief from the sweltering May heat. Thank God for some small mercies.




I opened my appointment letter for the nth time. I have lost track of the numerous times that I have opened to read and re-read it that the page bears some imprints of my fingers. I could not believe my eyes that I was handpicked and selected to be the employee of a blue chip Company.

I would be reporting to Kiran Shenoy. Hope he is not like Dad's boss , the blood thirsty Dracula extracting each minute of papa's life.

The superstitious nature overtook me and I have not shared this pieces of news with my friends who are still making rounds of corporate offices. How lucky am I! 

I folded the appointment and kept it safely in my bag.The bus halted. A lone lady boarded the bus.My eyes widened . I was never interested in the opposite sex but this young lady took my breath away. Her aqua blue eyes made me dive in the Pacific ocean. Her coal black hair seems to the laborious effect of oiling. Her pure white shirt and light blue denim pants
complimented her light pink complexion. OMG ! I am noticing too much.

The bus conductor went to her. She said ,"Ek BKC (Bandra-Kurla Complex) dena". My heart missed a beat. She too was going in my direction.

The bus came to a halt and the bus-conductor announced , "Chalo, BKC, last stop".

Before I could recover from my reverie , she was already out of the bus , and I was tenth in the queue. I got down and to my astonishment she was nowhere in sight. I sighed. She must be my good-luck charm, thought I.

I waited at the reception . There was a picture of a rainbow . The seven colours of the rainbow , Violet , Indigo, Blue, Green , Yellow , Orange , and Red made me smile . The lobby was a riot of colours with a colourful bouquet of flowers. The receptionist ushered me to a cabin. 'KIRAN SHENOY' was boldly embossed in metal. I knocked on the door and nervously entered. 

"Welcome aboard, this is Kiran Shenoy , your Team Manager. Have a seat Vinayak Shetty." said she

She was none other than the lady in the bus. My face was drained off colour.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have taken the liberty of adding two more colourful adjectives, without them the story would have been less colourful.

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

Dilwale Dulhaniya le Jayenge Part II

                                  

Raj and Simran's fairy tale romance has culminated into wedded bliss. The 'dilwala' managed to win his 'dulhan' from her father and a fat Indian wedding follows. So far so good. 

The end of a fairy tale begins with the life of ordinary people , where marriage is a great leveller. The slight dampness and cracks are visible in the grand architectural structure of love , after the first showers of the monsoon . To fill up the cracks and chasms , Raj and Simran wisely seek professional help from Dr. Aam Puri (Dr. AP), after all intervention from friends and family failed to produce the desired results.

                                 



Dr Aam Puri is an old war-horse  at handling marital disturbances and is man with large frame of body (and heart) and a boisterous  disposition.

As soon as the nervous , warring couple, Raj and Simran are ushered into his clinic by the receptionist , that he breaks into a huge grin and welcomes them with a ,"Salaam , Namaste , Sat Sriakaal , Hello , bacchho" greeting.  

Raj and Simran are slightly taken aback by his sunny disposition and a hearty welcome that they manage to say a subdued hello.

Into his chamber...............
He listens patiently to their outpourings of woe without interrupting and taking sides that the couple are put to ease.Earlier when relatives intervened , they sided with one of the aggrieved party thus widening the gap between them. Dr AP  then goes to hand them a sheet each. He asks some common questions to the couple and asks them to put them down in black and white.
The couple scribble in their respective sheets.

Later the couple are asked to read each other's thoughts on paper.

Readers, I  am sure you all  must be curious to read them, isn't it?  So continue reading ..........................


Simran : You did not notice the sparkle in my eyes when you slipped the diamond ring on my finger on our first wedding anniversary.

Raj : You failed to notice the  extra hours and weekends that I worked to see the sparkle in your eyes.

                                  -----------------


Simran : I wanted a reassuring hand while crossing the busy junction road. But you released my grip and asked me to walk ahead.

Raj :  I asked you to go ahead and was within protective distance behind you. Simran, grow up, if tomorrow you have to walk alone without me , I will be there in spirit behind you. Life is unpredictable.


                                ------------------

Raj : You no longer appreciate the yellow flowers that I buy for you.

Simran : After Rasi's birth I have developed an allergy which you failed to notice it.

                                 
                                  

                                      -----------------------




Raj  : The last two pieces of the bread pack are given to me. I hate it. It's so hard to chew.

Simran : In childhood , I used to fight with my 2 bros to get the last thick pieces of bread. I being the eldest , my mom asked me to forgo my share to give it to my bros. I wanted always to give you the best, Raj.

                               --------------------


Raj : A major part of my earnings is spent on buying gold coins.

Simran : Gold is a good investment. Wouldn't we like to see our Rasi adorned with some ornaments as a bride ?

                               --------------------


Simran : When  Rasi was born I wanted you to hold her first . But you drew a blank.............

Raj: I was thinking about the newspaper reports of ............ (with a lump in his throat) How would my little princess survive with dignity and honour in this cruel world ? These questions plagued my mind.

Simran's eyes turned moist and she choked with emotions.


After reading each other's thoughts , Raj and Simran thought that all is still not lost and they could salvage themselves from the wreckage , not only for their child but for themselves.

Dr AP smiled and facing them jointly dispensed out a few pearls of wisdom.


Dr. AP : Raj, I noticed that whenever Simran spoke, it always  "we" rather than you and I. Her heart strings are tenderly attached to you. But somewhere the threads threaten to loosen their bonds. And Simran , Raj has ceased to express his emotions post marriage, may be caught with the responsibilities. But this is no excuse. Words are as much essentials as actions. From time to time both have to re-assure each other of being together. Marriage is falling in love with the same person again and again to find an element of newness and romance.

Raj and Simran realize their folly and vow to sit across the table and have a heart-to-heart talk with each other rather than fighting , shouting and accusing each other.

Raj : I want to see you at sixty , Simran , sitting on your favourite cane chair and knitting for Rasi's kids , with grey in your hair and wrinkles on your forehead  and I know how beautiful you will look. 

Simran blushes. 

Dr. AP  : Helllllo , please go and pay my fees at the reception counter.

All of them laugh. And all is well.

Readers, did you like my post? 


                                      


Google Images.


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

Read between the lines.....

In your blog post this week, you have to use one sentence which has a pair of opposite words.

“Almost every wise saying has an opposite one, no less wise, to balance it.” – George Santayana.



Sreedevi lay on her bed watching television. An old  black and white, Hindi 

movie , 'Gora aur kaala'  was being screened . Her mother yelled ,

'Sreedeeeevi, Sreedeeeeeevi'  but it fell on deaf ears. 'Sreedevi, shall I come 

up or you will come down?' screamed her mother. Sreedevi said , " Bye 

honey, I will be back soon.", disconnecting the line, tore down the flight of 

steps to embrace her  amma (mother).

"Were you talking to your friend?" , glaring at her daughter.

"Amma, what 's for breakfast?"

Her mother is angry but chooses to stay mum.

There were two books on the side table, Orhan Pamuk 's , The White Castle 

and The Black Door. She reads such boring books, thought Sreedevi.

"Here read this." Her mother handing a paper to her.

Sreedevi reads loudly while amma listens attentively.

"Do not be under the false impression that I love you from the bottom of my heart. I have never said that I will be marrying you but will marry  a boy of amma's choice. 'I cannot live with you' cards that I have sent to you, please tear all of them. Only love is enough to last a life-time, all this  is  humbug and a mirage. I am waiting desperately for you  to come back is wrongly etched in your mind, so forget me." 

Sreedevi raises her eyebrows and asks ," What am  I  supposed to do with this ?"

"send this letter to that stupid office colleague who works with you", amma sternly.

"The days of writing letters is over amma, I will send him an email" , reasons Sreedevi.

Sreedevi starts striking  on her keyboard, while amma stands behind her , like a hawk.


Do not be under the false impression that

I love you from the bottom of my heart.

I have never said that

I will be marrying you

but will marry a boy of amma's choice.

I cannot live without you

cards that I have sent to you , please tear all of them.

Only love is enough to last a life-time,

all this is humbug  and a mirage.

I am desperately waiting for you to come back

is wrongly etched in your mind, so forget me.

Sreedevi.


 Sreedevi signs off while amma asks her to send it.

Suddenly Sreedevi shouts "amma, milk is boiling in the kitchen"

"OMG! I completely forgot about it", and amma runs into the kitchen.

Sreedevi adds a line

P.S. : Read between the lines (literally) for my true feelings.

And presses the send button  ......................



Readers did you read (literally) between the lines? Tell me  whether you liked this post .........

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