Month: December 2018

A winter getaway

WOW: Write About The Sounds You Hear

An escape from the hustling and bustling city to my grandmother’s lovely village was something I constantly dreamt.

The humble village where the sun’s radiance reflected the gentle heart of the villagers and the breeze accompanied us like a faithful companion. The fresh air greeted us with flower scents; it was the haven of the chirping birds that hummed melodies that no other instruments were capable to play.

Walking alone or sitting serenely listening to our thoughts seemed a maddening exercise in the cities. The outdoors offered sounds of roaring machines, moving motors or chattering people. All we obtain to breathe is the polluted black air. Things were the same if you escape to a lush park. The indoors marked the rumblings of a high-pressure, target oriented workplace. Or we can hear the constant uninteresting conversations sprouted either from our own house or from the neighbors’ flat. Or the screams of those kids who ne’er enjoyed active spaces.

The village wakened me up with the symphonies of nature. Life became marvelous.
Close by my bedroom window there was a Java Apple tree,  full of pink delicious fruits. The various colored birds feasted on the fruits taking turns and made love. I could sit all day near the window and observe them. I was listening to my mind, without actually making an effort.

The views were enough to strike a chord.
A gentle reminder to find a soul mate and to have a family.
A notice that devouring good food, having sound sleep and merrymaking with friends is a sure-fire good life scheme. No bonus for sacrificing one’s life for the company’s growth.
My mind noted and conveyed the things I was missing in my hectic corporate life.
What a pleasant way of life!

NB: All should escape to a lovely place often to be in tune with our own selves, to discover what the mind has to tell and discover our calls.

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

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Caged

(Photo by Boris Smokrovic via Unsplash)

 

The caged but hungry butterfly felt dizzy consuming the artificial liquid fed by the girl, shouting “drink and be merry!

When booze-free, it could sense the precious nectar of a nearby flower that was moving dilly-dally in the breeze.

It tried passing through the cage with all its might only to fail, then cried, “nothing in life is as sweet as freedom!

~~~~~

{In response to Three Line Tales, Week 149}

The Return

The first time he had come to Frankfurt was to pursue his post graduation.
After years, when he returned his homeland fetching a good job opportunity, he had satisfactorily completed his postdoctoral studies.
He expressed a dozen reasons to thank the place.
For him, Frankfurt was all about royale and resilience.
All around he could view only monumentous and prestigious structures.
The once war-destroyed city later emerged as a dominant spot.
The once love damaged man could find solace in its warmth.
The pleasant neighborhood and the scenic beauty made Frankfurt very dear to him.

When he explored the place as a dying wish, after 42 years, all he could see were the royal remnants looking humble amidst the multi-storied contemporary architecture. 

Heights don’t guarantee mojo!” The old man sighed. 

{In response to What Pegman Saw: Frankfurt, Germany}

Sky Lanterns

Image result for single sky lantern
                                                                                                                                          (Photo : From Google)

“Good, your first baby is doing great!”                                           The doctor exclaimed during my seventh month scanning.

Felt happy, still anxious, for we were expecting twins.
His face grew grim suddenly.
“I am sorryI am so sorry! He murmured.
Our world seemed to be collapsing.

Soon after my delivery, they brought us our healthy little one.
There was joy. But our hearts were hardened to heartily enjoy.

An experienced nurse carefully brought a trolley decorated with flowers and toys, and there laid our stillborn.
Writhing in unspeakable agony I could look only once. 

After the obituary and cremation, we reached the lush valley with our healthy baby.
The approaching evening greeted us with a rosy sky.

We lighted a sky lantern. As it flew up, it’s believed the dear baby we lost is promptly returning to heaven.

To this day, sky lanterns remind us of disenfranchised sorrows human lives are bestowed with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Based on a true incident}

Chaos

                        three line tales, week 148: gulls over a stormy sea                                                                                                                                                           (Photo by Lalo via Unsplash)

From my standpoint in the ship, towards the left, there’s my ex-husband flirting with his young girlfriend, and that naturally prompted me to turn right. 

saw the monster sea waves terrifying the swooping seagulls, but some swam over the tough waves expecting a good fortune, just like  the girl who found her way amidst my chaos.

Only the callous can fish in troubled waters.

{Written for Three Line Tales, Week 148}