Saturday, 10 June 2017

tough situations

Farmers are agitating in Maharashtra state asking the government to waive off their loans. 

The agitators  had occupied the space on the  roads. No they aren't blocking the roads with their live-

stock or tractors but are spilling their farm produce on the roads as a form of protest. Isn't it hard to 

believe?  What was the result? The prices of vegetables from their humble roots (literally) skyrocketed. The 

scarcity of the perishable goods  made a trip to greengrocer a less frequent exercise. But kitchen fires had

to be kept burning and hunger pangs at bay. A full Indian meal  was difficult to put on the table. 

Vegetarians were at the receiving end. Housewives panicked and stocked whatever was available​ in 

limited quantity , quality being compromised. 

The hoi polloi would be glued to newspapers or desperate to hear on TV about the strike being called off. 

Under these trying circumstances what are the options before a common man 

nay a common woman.


I scratched by head and racked my brains for a solution. 


Image result for Necessity is the mother of invention photo

                                      
Necessity is the mother of invention and this was time 

to prove it. Crying for help on being stranded on the 

island of helplessness was not going to help matters. God 

helps those who help themselves. Alternatives had to 

be searched for.




Image result for photo of indian lentils


Generous use of lentils in different forms was 

made use of. The humble lentils occupied a place 

of pride on Indian Thali. Its nutritive value 

became the focal point.  

                                            


 I scanned the culinary websites which threw up a plethora of tasty and healthy Indian dishes of 

which I had earlier not thought of.  I enjoyed digging into my North Karnataka traditional dishes. For 

sometime salads were off the plate.

                        Image result for indian sprouts    Image result for indian sprouts                                      

But  fresh sprouts replaced compensated  for the roughage to aid digestion. My wallet looked healthy and 

happy. 

Slowly trucks filled with vegetables started to trickle the Agricultural Produce Market Complex 

(APMC). And the retail market started to do business again.  

Milk tankers were provided security and we weren't deprived of the white nectar in tea and coffee. A 

brief fleeting thought of stocking milk powder but did not hit the panic button.

Things are limping to normalcy .


Citizens especially the urbanites tend to panic and cry hoarse at the slightest non availability of 

essentials or change in govt policies. Demonetization of denominations made the citizens wary of 

leaving their comfort zone to queue up outside the banks in the scorching heat. Did we imagine how 

our soldiers guard our borders in Sub-Zero temperatures even in the darkness while we catch our 

forty winks in peace. Do our athletes complain of the hot Sun or the not so up to the mark facilities? 

                            They bring medals and laurels to our country.

                                        Image result for when the going gets tough quotes



Image result for when the going gets tough quotes

Tough situations do not last long but tough minds stay 

forever facing the situation and wrestling it provides a much 

needed solution.


                              


           


 

 Readers, how do you deal  when you are faced with a tough situation? 


Linking this up with Shantala Nayak's Chatty Blogs linky for June 2017
   


             
                                       


                                       

Friday, 9 June 2017

the accident



                                                                 PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter



The weak rays of gloaming could barely reach her bed. Her 

grandmother would light a silver lamp and say prayers. 

But today there was no one to follow the sacrosanct ritual. 

Only she survived that fateful day.

Recalling the events had become a quotidian affair and 

the wounds become sore with each passing remembrance.


Limping slowly, she surveyed her desk. The overgrown 

creepers had to be discarded along with their roots. The 

layer of dust accumulated on the window of her past had 

to be wiped clean.

Her face glowed as the aura of the silver lamp wick 


become brighter.






        Written for : Friday Fictioneers

                         
            click here to read all the entries .





Wednesday, 7 June 2017

Hand

          YeahWrite #321 Weekly Writing Challenge


                           YeahWrite #321 Weekly Writing Challenge is Open for Microprose


Give us your best microprose using the word “hand”, in exactly 50 words.



“I have no hand in this deceit”, cried Amy.

“Show me your hand”, the Principal uttered sternly.

The ink smeared hand was displayed with reluctance.

“Did you forge this letter?”, the teacher glared.

“This isn’t my hand-writing, swear”, Amy defended herself.

“Why don’t you try your hand at something better?”



                                                   




                           click here to read all the interesting stories.

Tuesday, 6 June 2017

make or break?

118th Challenge
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers







this week's photo prompt is provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you Pamela for our photo prompt!

This is a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less) and each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. 


The rays singed our cheeks, filtering through the swaying 

branches and the light breeze listened to our persiflage. 

“But how do you manage to remain calm with this 

monster’s antics?” Arobola, gnashing her teeth.

Bella forced a wide grin and titled her head at an angle to 

survey her colleague.

“Have you ever walked in his shoes?”, a statement rather 

than a question.

“His words pinch my soul”, complained Nurse Arobola. The 

tears competing for a free flow down the crimson cheeks.

Bella gripped the crying wrist and quickly took a step 

ahead to face Arobola, stopping her in her track.


Pointing her index finger Bella urged her to look in the 

direction. They had ambled deep into the woods the green 

foliage interspersed with boulders of irregular shape and 

size.

“These rocks can be used to build a wall to alienate people 

or lay a bridge to connect hearts”.

“Which one would you choose Arobola” continued Bella.

Bella blinking her eyelashes stared into her colleague’s 

loving eyes.

The choice was made. Both of them walked back to their 

residential quarters.



written for : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers


                       



 word count : 181

Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting this interesting challenge.

click here to read all the stories.

Saturday, 3 June 2017

the tram

117th Challenge
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers






                                   Thank you Yinglan for the photo prompt!

This is a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less) and each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. 

The tram pulled on the station of cobbled surface. 

My feet stepped in carrying Luis Vuitton bag, my body and 

thoughts inside.


My official SUV needed a surgery in the garage and with no 

replacement vehicle in sight I had to take a detour forcibly 

to travel by public transport.


The maiden day was far from comfortable.  The movement 

of the tram and my hubris had a soporific effect.  I 

declared myself an outlier and misfit among hoi-polloi.

The following days eased my discomfiture of sharing space 

with strangers. Strangers with nameless bodies broke the 

cordon of unfamiliarity to inch closer sharing a smile or a 

nod. The girl in tweed skirt, the young man in Cambric 

pants or a young mom with her bawling infant gave me 

enough fodder for characterization to pull out my notepad 

to transport them to the bank pages.


I looked forward to this quotidian ritual. My blank pages 

rapidly filled and my nascent blogging gained momentum 

with newer posts and gathered rave comments.

The change reflected on my countenance. Anger and 

resentment replaced conviviality.

My subordinates saw a different avatar and were 

pleasantly  surprised.

The Valium bottle remained unopened.

The Garage mechanic‘s email about the vehicle’s recovery 

was read.

I picked my paraphernalia to board the 5.15 tram.


             written for : Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers.

                     



click here to read all the interesting stories.

word count : 214

Friday, 2 June 2017

contentment


June 1, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about feeling content. Explore what is contentment and any direction will do. Go where the prompt leads.


I make an arduous mental effort to garner sepia toned 

images vividly scattered on the periphery of my subliminal 

existence and they slowly coalesce   to form a perfect 

collage. 

As I obambulate the muddy road, the sights and smells 

tickle my senses.

The play-ground reminds me of the agility of our minds 

and bodies.

I lose myself in the pages of the library to find my voice.

Rainy splashes bring out the fecund innocence.

Pals widen the curve of my lips to spread consoling 

warmth.

I refuse to come out the labyrinthine garden of 

contentment.


             Return If Possible, childhood.





Thursday, 25 May 2017

grave

SHAPESHIFTING 13 #107


 challenge is to write a story or poem in exactly 13 words inspired by/using the following image:








                                                 “boat on land 01” by malicia-stock via Deviantart


       Pablo's skeleton in watery grave.

             His boat's decaying ribs

               rest in sandy gravel.



                                         

Wednesday, 24 May 2017

Outside

I walked through
the open door
And a knock sounded
On my closed mind.
Is someone waiting for me outside?

My canvas is a riot
of angry colours.
I behold a rainbow
as I lift my gaze
Does someone want to talk to me?

The surf kissed my toes
deposit a bright-hued shell.
The Sun on the horizon
Caressed my wet cheeks.
Is there someone who cares for me?

Childhood flashes before me
pals, picnics , pens, swirl.
The phone rings
"Hello, hello dear" , I echo.
Yes, I count my blessings.


the beach

          

This week's photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller's Abode. Thank you Louise!




Maurice dug her heels into the moist grains of fine textured sand as she 

unwrapped the lettuce-tuna sandwiches.

"It is going to be a lovely day", gushed Edward. They had packed straw hats,

sunscreen lotions, a pair of clothes, towels to make most of the salubrious

weather. Two bottles of lemonade, baked Alaskan cake and sandwiches sat

snugly in their duffel bag to satiate their hunger pangs to stretch till evening.

Fifteen year old Janice played Frisbee as the breeze aided her endeavour. 

Little Ron built an impregnable castle digging a moat around it while their

parents kept a hawk-like vigil on them.



Away from this picturesque situation, under the blue awning a devious mind

was plotting akin to a droid. The man dressed in Armani suit and a diamond

studded watch seems incongruous with the surroundings. He doffed his hat,

an action that seemed innocuous but was a signal to an insidious action.

The subaltern sidekick nodded and aimed.

The blood stained the moist sand grains. With a piercing cry, orphaned Janice 

and Ron’s legs carried them towards the disaster. The half eaten sandwiches 

were strewn on the beach.



                 The Gun Control Lobby was poorer without its crusaders.




                                     written  for flash fiction for aspiring writers

                               

word count : 199

Tuesday, 23 May 2017

grey wisdom




Combing my long silky tresses, I admired my reflection in 

the mirror.Tessie grimaced.

I turned to face her.


Her celluloid image had painted nails, each hair in place 

and a made-up face hiding all its flaws while my oils were 

a connoisseur’s prized possessions.


“Silver streaks in your hair”, almost gasping.

“I know”, a calm and confident me.

“Let me fix an appointment with Yasmine’s Colour 

Parlour”, Tessie panicking, “You have hit fifty”.


“I have accumulated streaks of wisdom in half a century 

and will unabashedly flaunt it”.


Thud...... Tessie’s cell -phone lay on the floor, broken, 

bruised.


Saturday, 13 May 2017

inherit

our challenge is to write a story or poem in exactly 39 words inspired by/using the following word:

“Inherit”

Definition:
v.
–  receive (money, property, or a title) as an heir at the death of the previous holder

I have inherited 
                        my blue eyes from my father,
                      black hair from my mother.

   my lips sing melodious strains.
        the strokes of my brush,
      
       aroma of strawberry crush

      are all cultivated by me.

     my kids will inherit 

     their own-self.




                                 

the golden touch



                                    unnamed-11-e1462409384457


King Midas tried to shake his daughter violently hoping to infuse life into her

gold metallic body but alas, the golden pupils stared back at him lifelessly.




His working hours extended into evenings and slowly

nights too consumed him.



The CEO  hardly saw his little daughter and she 


desperately wished his presence on her birthdays,


school meetings and dance competitions.





He knew she would hug and kiss him today and he


would not disappoint her and he had ordered her


favourite chocolate cake.



She didn't wish him on Father's Day and the cake 


lay untouched on the dining table.



The teen's changed taste left a bad taste in the 


father's mouth.





                              written for : Six Sentence Stories

Miss Universe


In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about trading.
It can be the profession of old or of modern day traders on Wall Street.
It can be trading places or lunches at school. What is traded? 
Is it a fair deal or a dupe? Trade away and go where the prompt leads you.




“World peace is the need of the hour”, she mouthed and a thunderous

applause deafened the stadium.

She adorned the sparkling tiara, as the curve of her lips widened.




                                            Image result for google pics of tiaras


Uneasiness lies in the head that wears the crown, Mrs. Ruth’s words


buzzed in her head.

Her new itinerary made her travel through various time zones.



                               ********************


The little fingers generously dug into the sinful chocolate.

The anorexic frame balancing the crown bent down to kiss the orphaned


cheeks while television screens beamed her actions.


“Will you trade places for a day?” begged the Miss Universe.


The innocent eyes stared disinterestedly. 


written for : Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction