Friday, 13 May 2016

Wheels of fortune.

Opportunity,  he cadge

Dame Luck smiled.

Roulette hits jackpot.


Wife squeezes alimony.

Saturday, 7 May 2016

The battle of Haldighati

Rana Pratap's coruscant bravery slashed every

 head that came in his way on the battlefield.  But the sheer force of the Mughal enemy reduced his belligerent mood and his small troop.

Sensing the situation, Chetak galloped , leaving the centre-stage.

Fatigued , he died in harness.

Rana built a memorial of his faithful Chetak.

Presenting a slice of Indian history, read more about
Chetak .

Monday, 2 May 2016


Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge month May 2nd (2) "shadows of leaves"

shadows of leaves
cover the open holes
her flute forgotten
©  Jane Reichhol
her lips forlorn 
yearning for Lord Krishna

© Jane Reichhold

Written for :Carpe diem tan renga challenge

                                         Image result for radha with flute
Google Image

Sunday, 1 May 2016


old pond
 frog jumps in
sound of water (basho)

creases of ripples
princess flashes dimples

Written for : Carpe DiemCarpe Diem

Friday, 29 April 2016

House hunting woes

                                                           Purple wall by dancsec

After sniffing the odour of the paint, my nose cringed at the colour of the walls.

Even the lampshade was painted with the same brush.

"The apartment rent is rock-bottom er Miss........."

"Miss Purple . Do i have a choice?"

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Trust broken

Happy anniversary.

Music and  wine failed to assuage the  tempest in my heart. The sip of infidelity 

combined with mendacity set the marital boat rocking.

My tired oar failed to keep it  afloat.

The Titanic sank with my trust.

Three's a crowd.

                             Image result for Three's a crowd



As I turn the starched stiff pages of the sepia toned images of the frozen moments of my infant days, my vision becomes blurred. I gently dab my eyes with Kleenex. Advancing age is another issue.

I caress the already worn out images with my trembling hands. I must have done this exercise a million times before. I can still feel the soft cotton fabric of my baby frock with dainty lace. My grandmother had hand-stitched it for me, her first born grand-daughter.
Image result for One set of old faded baby clothes in black and white images             Image result for One set of old faded baby clothes in black and white images
Those were the days of custom made clothes with the labour of love. Mass factory produced goods hadn't made inroads.

I pushed the bulky photo-album towards the other edge of the table.

The neatly folded pile of tiny frocks and bloomers reposed in the mahogany cabinet. Shrinking mothballs rested besides them.Gingerly picking them, I lay them on the table and a quick glance at the images in the album. Time stood still. It seemed just a day before that I had adorned them  and the smell of the newly sewed clothes permeated my nostrils.

Smile stretched on my wrinkled face as I placed another set of baby clothes on the table besides the old set of clothes. Generations separated them but love and affection reigned as the common factor.These branded factory made clothes are personally chosen by me. Shopping on-line is a new feature added to my skills.

                                       Image result for One set of old faded baby clothes
The old faded pile would be passed on as heirloom to the newest addition of my family.
NAY NAY.... , my values and blessings would be her legacy.

The old worn-out clothes will go with me: to the grave.

(Google Images)

Friday, 22 April 2016


In this photo taken Wednesday, July 3, 2013, a Chinese tourist covers himself with seaweed on a beach plagued by an algae bloom in Qingdao in eastern China's Shandong province. (AP Photo) CHINA OUT

"Grass is greener on the other side".

As Doubting Thomas stepped on the green carpet, the monster swamp  

engulfed him into the abyss of negative emotion.


Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Save our planet

                                      Image result for save planet earth images

The iron fangs mechanically sink deeper into her womb aborting

life. The bare surface devoid of foliage with parched throat cries 

to quench. A lone concerned voice protests over the monstrous din.

Million hands join the movement to conserve what is left.


Tuesday, 12 April 2016

raging passion

“Come, help me in the barnyard. Writing won’t keep the home 

fires burning”.

Heat sears his face gradually as the flames rise higher.

                               Image result for a boy sitting in front of burning books

He casts a forlorn look at the burning embers.

“Each word is imprinted in the book of my mind”.


Monday, 4 April 2016


They brought him home wrapped in the tricolour flag.

The innumerable flames of the wicks, bereaved with the wind illuminating the
dark moon-less night.

                                    Image result for hanumanthappa koppad

His fighting spirit kept him alive, buried in blankets of snow albeit briefly.

Salute you, brave Hanumanthappa.



Friday, 1 April 2016

'Test'ing times

Loud noises knocked on her skull. The clock struck nine, every stroke sending

her body into shivers. Jolted, she got up with rivulets trickling down her bosom.

                   Image result for Pic of a girl with an alarm clock ringing 9 o clock

She sprinted into the venue clutching her duffel.  The Physics lessons seem to 

echo into her psyche, her nervous feet refused to move forward. She stood rooted 

into the deserted school compound. She brought her wrist up. The seconds were

ticking. “I overslept, missed the test. I will flunk. Oh God Newton, help me!  ”

Her quivering lips widened into series of smiles letting off the suppressed tension.


Physics test is tomorrow.

Prompt: Write 100 words on anything without using the letter A.

Monday, 21 March 2016

Trust the Lord

The contractions wrung her body,

she saw the poacher’s aim staring.

Her priority concentrated on giving life, 

she surrendered to HIM.

The thunder and lightning blinded him,

missing his mark.

An addition to near extinct species.

A new dawn welcomed the cub.

                                  Image result for lioness and her new born cub

Friday, 18 March 2016


Oxygen barely flowed into her nasal passage but she was flush with the 

excitement despite the arduous journey. Every sinew in her body screamed.

She was not alone. The wafting clouds kissed her triumph, long-cherished, 

now fulfilled.

The howling winds acknowledged her presence.

She unburdened her baggage. Her needs were small.

She like the many had harboured a faint flicker of failure. Her expectations 

were moderate.

But try she would, never bow to failures. She secretly kept her aspirations high.

She hoisted the tri-colour on Mt.Everest and said a prayer.

The climb down was treacherous but her adrenaline rising up.


The sentence prompt is 
Keep high aspirations, moderate expectations, and small needs. 
-William Howard Stein

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

Ouija board

The coin moved jerkily across the board navigating alphabets and numbers making sense to me.

 fluttering pages of his favourite comic book brough solace.

I picked the book and kissed Richard.


My tears dried by tiny fingers. Unseen.

Healing percolated my pores.

Thursday, 15 October 2015

As I sat contemplating on the confluence of the mighty Indus and Zanskar , the bewitching beauty of the place numbs the senses and only the eyes feast and admire the abundance of Nature.

Approaching from two opposite directions the different hued waters serenely canoodle to meet, mingle and flow effortlessly merging into a single entity.
Nature seems to be so simple and uncomplicated.

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Lies and truth

Peeling layers of
deceit, treachery and more 
'lie' a masked facade.
Skeletons in closet.

Baring my soul
I stand uncovered, undraped,
'true' to thy name
Childlike innocence 
Out from womb.

Asatya: I defeat all.

Satya: I conquer myself. Peace, satisfaction flank me.

Friday, 25 September 2015

Road to freedom

She ducked out of the path and the mirror behind her shattered into hundred shards.

Furious, at missing his mark, the savage charged at her. The splintered reflections pierced his soles as he slipped and hit his head on the ornamental chair edge. His limp body lay sprawled.

She was on the Interstate, richer by a million dollars transferred to her account, to a life sans bruises.

The cop’s siren sounding harsher by every nanosecond, her moist hands shivered on the steering. The shrill sped past her to become a dot in the distant.

                      She took a detour to freedom.

              Written for : FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

                               Photo prompt : The Reclining Gentleman

                                 Friday Fictioneers and Poppy     

Click HERE to read FF posts.

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

I am

When umbilical cord severed

"Fairer sex", I was pronounced.

Weaker sex, I was reminded.

I carried the weight (burden)

till adult-hood.

Wielding a pen

I etch on stone

Fair sex: unfair.

Judge not by my statistics, complexion, tears.

Dive deeper for pearls.