The black truth .

                                             


Your prompt for 100 Words on Saturday “She realized that she could no longer hide the truth”

Jayashree pinched where it hurts the most,her pride.

She was never a party animal but she couldn't be categorized as a recluse either.

Socializing and entertaining whenever time permitted, she kept in constant touch with her kitty group.

She was active, agile and a quick learner.

Then how could they call her...............

She looked at her flowing tresses in the mirror.

“She realized that she could no longer hide the truth”

 She picked up the hair dye sachet packet and brush.

Jayashree  had pinched where it hurts the most, her pride of crowning glory.

Now she is a young grandma.

                                                            

                                                   For  :  WRITE TRIBE


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Death, do not be proud.

                                                                


The mortal remains burn
to light the frowning  skies
painting it to impart a sad hue
a residue of smoldering ashes
and a pile of bones.

The soul begins its odyssey
to another world beyond
of peace and calm.

                                  Death , do not be proud.

The framed and frozen memories 
are treasured and vaulted 
too precious to be charred
too valuable to be erased
from the folds of memory.

The legacies ,
of strong ties and moral values
continue unbroken
for generations.

                                    Death, do not be proud.


Hovering , always, on a man's head,
threatening every moment
a man's life and peace.
but his struggles against 
all odds , he is a winner.

                                   Death do not be proud. 

Death you knock 
on the doors only once.
Step inside and 
bow to the spirit of man,
bow to Life  and Living.

For : 3 Word Wednesday

suckling love

                              


suckling love
baby grows up
under mom's gaze

under mom's gaze
birdie sprouts wings
crosses seven seas

crosses seven seas
mom blesses 
empty nest syndrome .

(Children often leave their parents and motherland to fly off for better opportunities.
Phone-calls , Skype , e-mails can bridge the geographical gap but can the new
technology replace the loving touch of a child on the creases and wrinkles 
of the parents? I am not against the progress and advancement of an individual
but it should not be at the cost of a parent's loneliness in their twilight years.)

Body parts Idiom

                                                     


WRITE TRIBE has come out with a very innovative and interesting prompt : body parts idioms

IIT-JEE results out                                                   
Topper he was to be , no doubt
had egg on his face
and out of the rat race.

        ******

The two contestants sigh
never saw eye to eye
in the dance of democracy
shook hands , hypocrisy.

       ******
     
She had a gut feeling
of fortunes coming
she checked the number
winning the lottery bumper.

        *****

Employees got kick in the teeth
'King of Good Times' laid a wreath
on their high hopes
being grounded on steep slopes.

        ******

He saw her across the street
Shy , kept dragging his feet
The ring in his pocket
but her picture in his friend's locket.

       ******
   
Trailing her without a sound
detective kept his ear to the ground.
She pulled him up for stalking
and the poor guy started stammering.


         For :  Write Tribe

Ring : Haiku

 The prompt : ring.                

                           


                through ring of death
                    the tiger jumps
                 deafening applause.

(As a kid , I enjoyed the various stunts in a circus tent. The animals captured from
the wild were trained and made to perform for the entertainment of the humans.
It is cruel and now is rightly banned. The lions , tigers and the elephants should
roam free in their natural habitat : the jungles)


                 For : haiku horizons
                 For : open-link-monday

bubbles : haiku

                                       


blowing soap bubbles
bursting rings of joy
golden era of childhood 

golden era of childhood
pass in a jiffy
memories float.


For : haiku horizons

Prompt : ring

Feeling hot hot hot

                                            


Write Over the Weekend - Feeling hot ....hot.... hot........


The prompt : The heat this summer is unbearable. Here’s your chance to write a witty letter to the Sun God/Goddess convincing him/her to go a little easy on us.


He enters the sprawling mansion , a quick glance on the plaque , boldly embossed reads , 'Abode of Surya and Sanjana' , rings the door bell. With no response he presses the secret code and the door is flung open.
His fierce glance is arrested by a light blue envelope on the dining table. He picks it up , and scoffs at the cool colour and starts reading it aloud...........

Dear Surya,

The ready-to-eat packets are in the larder . Follow the instructions properly and do not mess it like last time.
The rosogollo tins are in the refrigerator . Do not have more than one as your sugar level may fluctuate.
The numbers of the green grocer and fruit vendor are stored in your cell-phone.

By the time you have opened this letter , I will be in the lap of my cool hill-station and will return only when Mumbai is drenched by Goddess Varsha.

Surya , its election time and the heat of the campaigning and mud-slinging is scorching the already high temperature of Aamchi Mumbai. The IPL fever too is adding fuel to the fire . The high-rises of the Maximum city depleted of greenery is a boiling cauldron and before I jump from the fire to fire-pan , am leaving the island city along with our kids to the retreat of the hills. I love you very much ,Surya but cannot see eye to eye as your fierce glances prick my eyes. I generously apply Sun-tan lotions with the highest SPF but my body can now compete with the over-baked brownie. I gulp down various coolant and joined aqua-aerobic classes . The Lady Friday (maid) is on leave and am tired of all the household chores. The prickly heat powder too could not rescue me. I will vacation at my parents retreat , 'Sheetal' . I wish you too should accompany us to the hills to take a chill-pill at your 'sasural'. 

                                                           

The media and the city islanders have termed you as 'arrogant' , 'heartless' and 'unyielding' . I know deep down that these reports are biased but Surya , can't you tone down your mercurial temperature to tolerable levels.......
People may curse you , chide you but no morning is complete without salutations to Sun-God in the form of Suryanamakars. Have mercy on your subjects.
                                                              

The Sun tattoo that I etched on my arm during our courtships days is no longer hot and appealing.

A barter exchange with Himachal God would be so welcome.,'Thanda-thanda , cool-cool ' effect.

Take care dear Surya.

Your loving wife,
Sanjana.


Folding the letter , Surya fumes and the Island city experiences the hottest day of the decade. The Bollywood brigade has already for the greener pastures i.e. Switzerland to shoot the last portion of the films.The hoi-polloi i.e. the Aam Aadmi has already inked his finger to bring about sweeping changes . The price of the 'King of fruits' has come down considerably  and the aam aadmi is enjoying Alphonso at his dinner table.

Surya e-mails to Sanjana.

Hi Sanjana,

your complaints are heard with a patient ear. But permit me to present my side of the coin.

Sanjana ,  miss you .

Whenever I try to drown into your eyes , you down the shutter of your lovely eye-lashes. Your body is caked in the sun-tan lotions and I cannot touch you. Your bone-density will be affected due to lack of Vitamin D . The calcium supplements that you consume are no better than my natural potion.

I am misunderstood and misquoted. The road-rage accidents  are blamed for my excess presence. Children are kept indoors. But before pointing an accusing finger at me , will the humans take stock of their activities that is depleting the Mother Earth of her green garb? Hoarse cries of global warming are heard . Were my rays so ferocious some centuries ago?  Goddesses Varsha too is not happy and delays her arrival every season. 

Sanjana , come back soon.Take care.

Your loving ( & longing) husband,
Surya.

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

If summer is around , can the rains be far behind? Till then let us try to enjoy the rays of the Sun. Do you agree with me , readers?

Read more about Surya , the Hindu Sun-God here.


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

You can read interesting posts here.

Fragrant winds

Theme Thursday for May 1, 2014 - WINDS
                             
The dark blanket above
frowned menacing
threatening to gulp
the soft genteel moon glow.
Winds  screamed quietly
piercing the silence.
another tempest raged 
midst of my mind.
Heavens help me!
I implored.

                                    A strong scent attacked
                                    the doors of my nostrils.
                                    Fragrance spread
                                   from heart to grey cells
                                   cast a smile on my parched lips.
                                   with oars of fragrance
                                   I'll row thru disturbed
                                  waters of adversities.
                                  Welcome Winds!


                                                      








For :  Theme Thursday

Sunset solitude

                               




                               



As i sit still
gaze at the canvas of the sky
splashed with myriad hues
the crimson, orange , red
assimilate with my trapped thoughts.

The colors, I inhale
and fill my lungs
i bid adieu to the rays,
as the darkness compels
to beat a retreat , I
usher into the refuge of loneliness
to exhale the colors on the white bare canvas.

Crowds throng
for a glimpse of my masterpiece.
A peep into my curtained life,
untouched , unseen are my thoughts.
Under the hammer , a handsome price fetched,
the price of my solitude.

                                          For : Poetry Jam

Break-up

                                                    


Acrid, adjective: Having an irritatingly strong and unpleasant taste or smell; angry and bitter.

 Dramatic, adjective: Of or relating to drama or the performance or study of drama; (of an event or circumstance) sudden and striking; exciting or impressive; (of a person or their behavior) intending or intended to create an effect; theatrical. 

Quarantine, noun: A state, period, or place of isolation in which people or animals that have arrived from elsewhere or been exposed to infectious or contagious disease are placed; verb: [with object] impose isolation on (a person, animal, or place); put in quarantine.

                                   Quarantine emotions
                                    acrid words spew
                          dramatic exit from matrimony.


                                For 3 Word Wednesday