Monday, August 8, 2016

Bathroom Singer


"Mom!" he shouts from his bathroom.


She inquires with an anxious emphasis.

"No running water" he declares in an annoying tone.

She rushes to the water storage and opens its tap.

From a distance, she can hear the water spurt from the faucet. At first, the flow is irregular giving out a spate of explosions as if announcing its arrival, and after such repeated events, there was fury and momentum in its flow.

That was followed by a soft hum that gave way to a pitch that was loud enough to make the neighbor's bang her front door.

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In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the sense of sound. 


Saturday, August 6, 2016

Mirror Therapy

"Look what you did, again?" Patricia sobbed, "I have got sick and tired of you, now!"


She wiped her tears, "If I see you go after Jim again. I will punish you." with eyes wide and looking fixedly at her mirror image, she declared.

"I have got drained by him treating you like this. Where is your self-respect, your dignity?" she questioned while moving her forefinger briskly towards her reflection in the mirror.

"Promise me!" she choked, "Promise me that you will not initiate it again!"


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Friday, August 5, 2016

Hello...Hello

"Your Nanaji has passed away" sobbed Mom over the phone while I heard it with a shock.

Wanted to speak but my mouth was dry, had to gulp many times until I could utter something.

"Mom!" I kept repeating, but she was sobbing so hard that she could hardly hear my echoed voice that was coming from thousand of miles.

Those days an overseas call would always comprise of high pitched tone, and unfortunately, the topic of our conversation had subdued our voices.

While I continued with my Hello's with the hope that she would hear me, I went back to those days when I would visit my Nanaji in Meerut, India.

The visits to his farm house (Bhatta) where we would go on nature hikes, take a dip in his tube well, ride on the tractor and tour his farm, chew upon the sugarcane, eat that desi authentic food that the workers provided us. Nothing would come in between that nature and me. When I would come back home, my nails would be filled with dirt, clothes and shoes would be muddy, but deep inside there was always the urge to go back, which unfortunately would not happen now!

As I waited patiently with my moist eyes and my Hello's that was crossing the Atlantic Ocean and about seven countries. I was wishfully thinking for that day to come once more just so that I could re-Live those moments.

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Thursday, August 4, 2016

Namaste!

In our Hindu culture, when it comes to receiving blessings we believe in folding our hands or touching the elders' feet. It is known to impart the necessary benediction for one's progress and welfare.





As a teen, I would always jeer at this tradition cause that was the age when raging hormones were being produced in plenty. It gave rise to my confidence thanks to the ego that lay beneath it. Life was an adventure in every nook. It was fearless, conquerable although that would raise the eyebrows of my parents who maybe knew where this would end thus, would either stay quiet or say an extra prayer for me.


Meeting Indian elders' was not a mere Hello but either folding hands and doing a namaste or touching their feet. The latter I did not believe in, so opted for the former. I do admit there were times I would just mumble the word beneath my breath and barge into their homes.


Anyways, fast forward.

Time flew, and I realized the importance of good wishes. Maybe the failure to reach my goals made me want to crave for it. Maybe I had reached my potential and needed a push from there after. Maybe the desire to touch the sky and be limitless wanted me to secretly have that super-pill that was actually very easy if I could only discard my ego and be ready to either touch the feet of elders or do a mere namaste with my hands locked.

Patience is more than a virtue since I realized being humble is another quality that can make you walk that extra mile. Anyways, I went ahead and embraced both. I admit I have not touched the sky or reached where I want to in this lifetime, but the happiness, the satisfaction, the contentment I receive when I receive a nod and hand over my head or shoulder. The energy is just mind blowing. It rejuvenates me and fills me up with positivity to go ahead with my day.


Attaching the Science behind the Namaste and the Touching of feet.




Mantra for today: It takes a lot of courage to push that ego aside. 


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This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. The sentence is “When it comes to blessings…” and it’s an extra-special week because we’re linking up with the Blessings Month with Tuesday Ten and #1000Speaks for Compassion. Write about “When it comes to blessings…” or Ten Ways I can bless people… or Ten Ways I am Blessed…

Expecting, Again?

"Why are you knitting, again, Sara?" John asked with curiosity in an intense expression as he unlocked the front door and entered after a long day at work.

"Shhh. Lower your voice John. The kids just went to sleep."

John paused.

Those tiny shoes made him nervous since just about eight months ago, kid number 3 had outworn them. His wife had this fondness to knit prior to each one's birth, and to see her repeat that process started giving him palpitations.

Halted in his step, but could not contain his curiosity, again.

He gulped, reflected upon, "We used protection this time. I am sure about it." he rambled around the room while the wife held a constant smile.

Finally, she gave in, "This is not for us!"

He plopped next to her with a big Sigh!

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Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Johnny and Mommy

Johnny, Johnny!
Yes, Mommy


What are you doing?
Nothing, Mommy



Telling lies?
No, Mommy


Open your hand. Aha! caught you redhanded!


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I realize this post is very elementary, but Johnny refused to leave my mind when I read the prompt :)

Took me back to my kid's toddler days when I would sneak upon him, and catch him in the 'act'
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Tuesday, August 2, 2016

The Morning Newspaper

"Jeez! I can't find it again," yelled Mike as he was tossing the pillows, looking beneath the cushions and under the couch in desperation.

A silent Annie stood at a distance watching all the drama that would occur each morning.

Finally, she took it out from a drawer, and tip toed towards her agitated husband who went from furious to a frenzy.

"Why in the name of God do you secretly place the morning newspaper in some random drawers?" he asked in a bitter tone.

The wife replied with an upbeat emphasis, "We have fragile lives living with us. The least we can do is protect them from these harsh headlines."


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