Intro-e-Extranjero - Pune bloggers meet

In the early month of November,

With the onset of winter,

In a city brimming with bloggers,

At a place with a wonderful decor,

And food to make the mouth water,

Was set a meet to gather

Not few, but a league of bloggers.

That was just an apotheosis of the "Out of the Blue" IndiBlogger meet held in the evergreen city of Pune. With the October heat dying down making way for the November chill winds to set in, it was time for the winter session of the IndiBlogger meet. This was going to be my very first experience of a kind. Not that I have never interacted with bloggers. 

This time I was expecting a room filled with 40 like-minded creative thinkers buzzing on a common topic, “BLOGGING”. The reason for 40 was that it was the number of people who had registered for the meet on Indiblogger. Having seen a few photos on various social networking sites of the meets held at different cities around India, I had pictured myself to enter into a room with 40 people sitting on chairs lined up to hear someone speak with a mike and the mike would be passed on from one person to the next. Nevertheless, I wasn't less excited.

10th of November was the date and being a Sunday, I didn't have to fight with the traffic to reach E-Square mall. "Out of the blue" was the place that was mentioned in the registration page and I walked in at sharp 11 AM. 

Woah!! To my surprise it wasn't a hall. However, there was a beautiful passageway adorned with artistic portraits on its wall which led to an open area where tables were set surrounded by wooden chairs with a blue and white striped cushion to rest the back.

                                       

 The ice-breaker was the introductions given by the blogger. With every introduction, each blogger was supposed to adhere to the theme which was to mention “What would they love to feast themselves for breakfast every morning?” There were different foods that every blogger fantasized on. Ranging from the traditional Poori Bhaji to Idli Sambar and Upma to kachori, each of our replies made every ones stomachs crave for some.

Without further ado, we were served with a variety of starters which were indeed very sumptuous. I loved them and they were indeed very indulging. But what was even more indulging was the talk I was having with the fellow bloggers. Sitting next to me was a boy cut hair girl who was clicking pictures of everything she saw. It was Tara Nair, an interior stylist by profession. Creative profile indeed!! 

To my other end was Chirag who had traveled all the way from Mumbai to make it for the meet. There were Mayuk and Shayani too who were techies like me but very much passionate about blogging. We had a blogger who gave me some fitness tips, thanks to the love handles that I have earned because of extra love from my mother.

 

Animesh who had organized the meet handled it very well. I still am laughing over the post you had read about your experiences with marriage. All the best to you and Sriram on your book!!

There were other veteran bloggers who were present as well (Sriram, Hari, Sandeep and Diwakar) whom I was meeting for the very first time. Not to forget, Vikram Karve Sir who has always inspired me with the way he blogs. Age was not a bar where members sharing the same platform were present. We had Uncle Phani Babu a septuagenarian who spoke about mystery shopping and Nikhil, a youngster who spoke about mobilejury.com.

It was indeed a very fruitful meet, as various topics were chosen to speak about. From Alexa rank to niche blogging, poetry to psychology and architecture to religion, every blogger present had a story to say on how he landed up into blogging.

 

I will do injustice if I forget to mention about -18 degrees an icecream and exclusive desert joint that served as the host accompanied with Out of the Blue for the meet. Two lovely ladies spoke about the variety of food served at Out of the Blue and the to-die-for ice cream sundaes at -18 degrees.

                        

 

After nibbling over a high calorized appetizing Mango Sundae, I headed home carrying memories about my very first blogger meet. We were those who met as strangers, shy and perplexed, but we left as friends who wished we had a lot more blogger meets to attend in the future.

I would like to end my post by quoting something that I had said at the meet,

“We writers and people of creative interests are gifted the power to make the readers think the way we do through our artistic pieces of work”

Happy Writing and Blogging!!!

Crushers and Crackles - Part 2

To read the first part of this story click here.

 "Would you like to have some desert, Maam?" the waiter pitched in and asked Nina who was trying to stuff the large rumali roti that she had ordered. Jatin slurped the last spoon of the soup and stared at Nina trying to connect to her. They were sitting opposite to each other in a cozy restaurant with extravagant interiors for the fifth time and yet there was nothing romantic about the couple.

Their parents had introduced them  a month ago during a family function and Jatin had wished that time could have stood still the minute he had seen her. He knew she was the one for him. In the past one month, Jatin had tried his level best to make his way into her heart. Like every newly engaged couples, he sent her flowers and tried to make each moment special when she was around.

It wasn't the same for Nina. She barely responded to Jatin. He noticed her never-to-bother attitude and tried to break through the walls she had securely built around her. However, all he received in return was her mere, "hmmm" and "Umms" to whatever he spoke. Nina was engrossed in her thoughts even when she was surrounded by a large crowd of friends. Ever since the morning she was defeated in love and her trust  was broken, she never thought of getting back to her normal life.

The day she had met Sunaina, she couldn't hold herself from confronting Vikram about it, who on the other end replied very casually, "You never asked me if I was married or not Nina"

 "Then why did you ask me to move in with you, Vikram", Nina retorted. 

"I asked you to move in till Sunaina could come back. Don't tell me you wanted to move in forever?" Vikram chuckled. Vikram's careless attitude and nonchalant replies made it palpable that she had fallen prey to a notorious man who was never going to be bothered about her feelings. For days she pleaded with her manager to transfer her so she could be out of Vikram's sight, but all her attempts were futile. With her concentration completely lost, she began to perform poorly. Her mentor was no longer by her side to support her. With her diminishing performance, she was among the lot that was laid off by the company and given the pink slip.

Over the past two months, Nina, who had found her happiness outside the streets of Valsad was back home trying to recover from the wild heart ache. She was slapped by her father when she mentioned about Vikram, who was the reason why she did not want to get married. With no support from her family, she had to give in to the idea of getting married to Jatin. 

The snares of the past hovered her present, which she couldn't make peace with. She knew she was playing with Jatin's life but the options before her were meager. She managed to make her way back to Pune with an urge to find a new job and get married to Jatin.

That evening at dinner as Jatin sat engrossed in her beauty, Nina was unaware of her feelings. She wasn't sure if she would fall in love a second time. Her life had taken a swing and she didn't know where she was heading.

 Deciding that she should find her way out of the mess, she got up. "Jatin, please wait here till I get back", Nina stormed out of the restaurant and caught a taxi. Minutes later she was back to the restaurant with a woman accompanying her. Jatin watched Nina enter the hotel and waited for her to come towards him. Instead, she moved her footsteps in a fast pace and walked to the opposite table.

 "What a surprise, Vikram?" Nina began. Vikram sat with a woman holding her hand in a loving manner. On noticing her, he immediately let go off the woman's hand and began to introduce his counterpart, when the other lady who had followed Nina from the taxi came to light. It was Sunaina.

 "Is she the next female who is supposed to move in with you for a while, Vikram", Nina's confidence knew no end.

 She turned to the woman seated at the table, "Well, I am sure Vikram wouldn't have told you about his beautiful wife Sunaina", Nina pointed out to Sunaina which left the woman who was seated dumbfound. 

Turning to Sunaina, she spoke, "Oops, Sunaina, I will do injustice if I do not correct Vikram's introduction about me, I am Nina, Vikram's ex-girlfriend"

Having said this, she stormed outside the hotel leaving the crowd perplexed and Jatin clueless. A while ago, she had heard a familiar voice when she was seated with Jatin. On verifying if it really was Vikram, she left the hotel, deciding to teach Vikram a lesson. With her anger finally vented out, she felt relieved. Standing outside the restaurant, she wasn't scared about the world anymore. 

She wasn't scared if Jatin would accept her or not. She had finally broken through the shackles and risen above. Reminiscing every minute of the evening as she walked back home, she realized that her confidence was back and she could face the world without any guilt. The heart that was crushed and crackled had finally become strong and powerful. Nina knew that she could fall in love again.

She had found her victory in her defeat.  Silencing her qualms, she walked back home cheerful and regaining her confidence which she had built almost a year ago when she had walked out of the streets of Valsad. 

Operation Con-Narco

This post is inspired by the contest, "100 words on Saturday" at Write Tribe. 

The topic is, "I knew it was my last day there". I managed to weave a story of 100 words that includes the above line. 

Operation Con-Narco

Colossal amount of time had passed since I was sent to the enemy land for an imperative mission. Operation Con-Narco was devised to gather information on the barbiturates that were administered to the soldiers of our country to reveal furtive information. Delegated on this mission a month back, I seduced the doctor who was vitally responsible for the research of the drug. With the chemical equation in front of me, I heaved a sigh of relief as I transferred the information on a secured mail. Seconds later I heard the door open, I knew it was my last day there.   

Crushers and Crackles - Part 1

Ferociously, she slammed the door behind and walked out of the restaurant. She had never tried to fight with her low gutty spirit and upsurge from the shell that she kept herself hidden in. But today she had finally managed to break through and roar her hatred towards him.

Nina Shah had just fairly mocked someone and slammed him hard at the very point which he would never want to be hurt. Born into a conservative Gujurati family, Nina was enslaved by the realms of culture and its dogma. It was only because of her work location, did she have the grit to ask her parents to live away from home.

Pune reckoned her for a job at one of the multinational companies and freedom loomed over her. Her capabilities were crushed inside the streets of Valsad which was her home. The conventional city that she bred in couldn't open the doors of opportunities for her. Eventually, her desire to experience the world outside the sleepy lanes of Valsad had come true. Settling in the crowd of Pune and its newfangled culture took her a while. Like every girl who was celebrating the glorious age of their 20's, she wished to hang out at pubs, spend the nights at the disc and enrich her taste-buds with the various flavors of the magical vodka.

 

However, she wasn't fascinated with the aura that city life brought with it and she always gravitated towards maintaining her low profile social status. Thanks to her upbringing in the small city of Valsad.

She worked in a team of ten in her company and was reported to her lead, Vikram, who mentored her from the very first day. The rapport built between her and Vikram was commendable and Nina had started to confide on him. His husky voice captured her senses. She would sometimes blindly listen to his voice without analyzing what he actually meant. What started off as a mentor - protégé relationship turned into friendship and before Nina and Vikram could cognomen their accord, they knew they had fallen for each other. 

Everything was bright and sunny in the first few days of their courtship. Vikram continued to be her guide and Nina could hardly keep her foot on the ground. Namely, because of the attention Vikram gave her. They began their mornings with a sumptuous breakfast at Vikram’s single bedroom apartment in the posh locality of Koregaon Park and ended their day with Vikram dropping her at her place in Kalyani Nagar.

“Why don’t you move in, Nina?” Vikram would suggest.

“We should give maintain our privacy ,Vikram. Anyway after we get married, I will be around you for 24 hours and you would land up being bored of me”, Nina would ridicule.

Like every couple, they both would have their lows and highs and it was always Nina who would make up for every fight. She overlooked Vikram's big fat ego which would stop him from apologizing. 

Life had suddenly taken an upswing and Nina was savoring the sweet fruits of her freedom. It seemed to be a cake walk with a cherry on top and a layer of free flowing white chocolate coupled with buds of dark chocolate. 

Weekends often started with a movie date and continued with a long drive to the lofty hill stations around Pune.

 Dreams however, didn't last long and Nina's fantasies were short-lived when one day they had a visitor at their breakfast table. Nina rang Vikram's doorbell like every morning. 

Today, however it wasn't Vikram who answered the door bell. 

Standing at the door was a woman in her late 20's. She had a baby cuddled in her arms.

"Kaun hai?" Nina could hear Vikram's voice enquiring about the person at the door.

“Arre, Nina I will be coming a little late to office. Can you leave the files at my office desk?” Vikram’s behavior left Nina stunned. She stood numb, fighting back the tears that were choking her throat.

“Sunaina, this is Nina. My colleague at work”, Vikram introduced Nina to the woman at the door.

The next sentence that Vikram was about to spurt out left Nina dumbfound.

“Nina, meet my wife, Sunaina and my son, Sudhesh”, Vikram behaved normal.

“You have a beautiful wife……. Sir”, Nina managed to speak a sentence and rushed out of the lobby.

To be continued...

To read the second part of this story click here.

55 fiction - Love in the cafe and Deathly mystery

I have been eyeing on writing a 55 fiction from a very long time. Thanks to the "Write Tribe", I tried writing this one on love and mystery. I have tried to write each of it in a single sentence accepting the challenge put forth.

Love in the cafe

He sat exactly three tables away looking strikingly handsome in a blue tshirt intriguing my heartbeats insanely and although we had never spoken to each other our eyes met aimlessly; sighing hopelessly I left the cafeteria to my work floor when a message beeped which read, “Hi, wondering who I am? Guy in the blue tshirt”


Deathly Mystery

Loosening his grip he dropped me on the bed and nudged a knife piercing through the veins in my stomach ,splashing drops of blood across ,I scream and wake up instantaneously realizing it was a dream and reach out to drink water ; my hands shiver as I find gory blood stains on the ground.  

Chutki to Didi to Aunty

A few years back a prominent television series in Zee TV made us laugh our lungs out and if you grew up in the 90's then "Hum paanch" would have ringed in your ears. 
"Aunty mat kaho naa"(Don’t call me aunty), said in a very cheesy tone and in a cute affectionate voice would take you back to those days when this series tickled the humour hormones. 

Although this dialogue did make us laugh in that era, it does resonate while being said in our tongues (as women) many a times. Wasn't it lately that you told a kid in your society the same statement? (Aunty mat kaho naa)

As kids we hated it when some kakka, mama or uncle called us “Chutki”. We found it embarrassing and would give them a wild stare making them wonder how brats were furnished with such innocent faces. Come on dear uncles and aunties, our parents named us with such fascinating names and we would smile at you back when you call us with our unique names.

Years passed and our body started experiencing some hormonal changes to make us into beautiful ladies who loved to dress up and make a few heads turn. Darn in such an amazing phase of life we didn't like us to be called as didi, akka or tai. We weren't so old yet. We were proudly flaunting the teen badge that was put on our age and wooing every Tom Dick and Harry who crossed us. Alas, the fruits of such happiness are short lived.

When I am just out of my teens, enjoying the freshness of womanhood I hear a subtle voice calling me, "Aunty". Bang on and I imagine myself as one of those woman wearing sarees with a big bindi on my forehead. 

Philosophers quote a very famous statement which we keeps resounding in our ears when we are out of our teens, "Maturity comes with age". Oh yes it does !! I very well agree to it with an instant nod. We like it when we are said to attain maturity at a very much younger age than men. But we hate it when our beauty products fail to hide the wrinkles below our eyes. Maybe we need Snow white's step mother's beauty portion. 

I stay in a ten storeyed building filled with children in different ages and sizes . Last sunday I was enjoying my evening tea sitting in an arm chair in my not so palatial balcony when the door bell rang. A young boy stood at my door who was as tall as me and on a second look I could guess that he was between 16-20 years of age. "Aunty, our towel has fallen in your balcony, Can you give it to me? "
"Aunty" banged my ears like thousand bells ringing simultaneously out of harmony. For a second I picturized my hands slapping him on his cheeks. (of course, I was dreaming and wishing I could do that for his sense of observation that I wasn't so old as he thought)

I felt my fists close hard for a punch instead and my "already-big-eyes" turn bigger as though some daemon had suddenly taken a flight and landed into my being.
  I picked up the towel and thumped it in his hands. He thanked me awkwardly and in response I slammed the door. 

How rude was I? He was a normal guy who genuinely needed help and I sent him off in such a gross manner. 

It actually wasn't his fault, if there was anything wrong in this entire episode it was  the nerve that bound every woman to agree on a common thought and that was about being called in absurd ways at every particular age.

Of course, you may argue that after all these are ways to call woman with respect but the woman of today are more cautious about being called out of age rather than being called with respect. And again it is not your fault dear readers, we really find it difficult to adjust and assimilate the fact that we do grow old with time. 

The transition from a little girl to a teenager to a woman does take time to sink in. 

For all you woman reading this post would love to hear instances from you were you were annoyed with the trickling nouns used to call you. 

Chutki's, didi's, and aunties, whoever you are be proud and celebrate the spirit of being a woman. We may sulk at these names and be annoyed and stupendously irritated yet, we are the most beautiful creation of God and if do not sulk about these "so-called-stupid-issues"  then you haven't enjoyed womanhood :) 

To move on

Not once could you stand for me,

You had not guts to hold me,
To make those moments mean forever,

That were once in my spheres,
That meant never to be over.

You made huge promises,

But each in halfheartedness,

That became alive with every dawn,

And fell apart with every dusk.

In belief I trusted each word you said,

In faith I waited quiet beside you,

In hope for that eternity with you,

I averted my present and let it go.

You picked and pricked,
Every part of my heart,
Where blood oozed with your name in it.

What did you think I was made of?

A paper to be torn and thrown,

Or a stone to be crushed and broken,

Alas you never realised,

That I was a woman to be loved and lived.

I lost in the struggle to be loved,

Not again would I let you take a chance,

To play with my heart and leave it in a stance,

I promise to move on,

For the love which was your lie. 

I heard the song, "Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri and was inspired to write this :)

Time and Again !!

Haiku Prompt #266: "Time"

The Haiku Prompt inspired by "Haiku Heights" is "TIME".

We witness the only constant change every single day. Don't we?

Only constant change,

No stoppable barricades,

We move with it's pace.

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I cry in vain every morning when my alarm rings. Don't you?

Assiduously,

Averting irritation,

Rings the alarm, vain.

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On her wedding !!

It was a rainy evening,

The mighty clouds thundering,

The window panes shuddering,

And her heart inversely beating.

T'was the day of her wedding,

With eyes moist and gleaming,

She stood near the window staring,

A letter which said NO, in her hand holding.

He was never there,

And she was left to be nowhere,

With promises to keep,

A long life to leap.

In the thuds of the droplets,

That hit her window's glasses,

She hid her sobs and tears,

Reminiscing those blissful moments.

He was gone forever,

She was meant for another,

What remained were just a few glimpses,

Of the times that passed in smiles,

She hopelessly stood waiting,

Decked in a white gown shimmering,

Thinking he would come at the door standing,

 On that rainy evening. 

Who dominates you ?

The famous Italian painter who had given the world eminent works of art like the Mona Lisa and The Last supper had experienced a hard time in figuring out how Jesus and his 12 disciples looked in real.

Hence, he decided to search for look-a-likes and paint the master piece. But obvious, he began with Jesus Christ and was in pursuit of a man who had a very striking face and pleasing and elegant features. After a few days of search, he found one such man in one of the churches. This man's face was so captivating that Leornado immediately inquired if this man would be affirmative about letting himself get portrayed.

The noble man eventually agreed and Da Vinci went ahead to paint Jesus. The painting of the Last Supper has Jesus sitting in the center of a table along side his 12 disciples who are seated in a semi-circle.



The portrait of Jesus was complete and Leornado went on to paint the remaining disciples. Being a perfectionist, he was again in search of finding a face that resembled Judas Iscariot. For those who do not know who this person is, let me tell you that Judas was one of the 12 disciples and he was the man who betrayed Jesus and handed him over to be crucified.

Knowing about this and history, Da Vinci was on the lookout for a face that showed evil characteristics. He eventually found a beggar along the street who had a very unpleasant and vicious look. This man agreed to get himself painted as Judas. Da Vinci who was finally elated that his painting was complete asked this man, "Sir, May I know your name please?"

The beggar looked as him surprisingly and asked, "Don't you remember me Sir?"

Leornado Da Vinci replied negatively to which the beggar said, "Sir, I was the same person whom you had called to paint the picture of Jesus Christ"

I bet you must be awestruck at this flabbergasting history behind the very famous portrait in history.

The reason why I used this small story as an anecdote was to signify that each of us have a part of Judas and Jesus inside us. We posses evil and benevolence and are endowed with it. But the point here is, who dominates us? Or put the other way, whom do we allow to dominate us?

Do we let the good take a higher stance on us or so we show our evil side often to the world around us?
The answer can be well explained with this cliche, "You see around you what you wish to see". Indeed, If we choose to see evil around us, we will find fault in everyone and everything surrounding us.

But if we wish to be good and see good, the world will be a better place to live it.

So who do you want to be in this world?

Who dominates you ??

An open question without a distinct answer .....

The summer's day tale

                                                     

There I go to flaunt my WOW badge again. A second post at blogadda that became post with the "WOW" factor :)

It was the second last day of school. As always, I parked my bicycle in the stand and ran to my classroom. I threw my bag on the third bench in the last row and ran outside the class to the back gate of my school.

The grass was my refuge whenever my black shoes were filled with mud. I hurriedly rubbed my shoes on the grass to look neat and tidy. 

“I hope my ribbons are in place”, I murmured to myself and adjusted the ribbons tied on my hair. He would be here in no time and my lips will unknowingly broaden to flash a radiating smile which would make my eyes jealous and they would widen up in excitement.

Just two more days and we would part ways. I may never meet him again.

I don’t know if I would be able to tell him how much I liked him.

There was a deep anxiety inside and I didn't know what this feeling was as I was very young.

“It’s just infatuation, Suzanne”, My elder sister had warned me.

With a million confusions at the age of 14 I was unsure if my hormones were changing and playing cynical notes of symphony in my heart.

“Suzzane….. “

“Suzanne……………….” I felt a hand on my shoulders trying to wake me up from a dream. Startled by the voice, I turned.

It was him, he was standing in front of me in body and spirit......... and my mind and soul had suddenly stopped functioning making me search for words....

“Rishab….hmmmm…. ahem…”

Unknowingly, I waved him a “hi” although he stood just a feet away.

“Suzanne, It’s our second last day at school and we still haven’t exchanged our phone numbers. Can I have your number?” he casually asked me.

“Of course, give me a paper I will write it for you” , He pulled out  a paper from his book and gave it to me. I hastily penned my phone number with a broad smile on my face.

School got over and within a month, Rishab had called me twice on my phone.  

Daddy had got transferred and we were moving out of Guwahati  to Delhi. 
Sheena, my sister was excited as we were going to live in the capital city of India. Everyone at home were elated, but I sat in the corner waiting for everyone to leave me alone for sometime so I could pick up the phone and dial Rishab’s number to inform him that I would be leaving the city soon.

It was the 31^st of May 2003, a hot summer day when Daddy, mummy, Sheena and I left out of our two bedroom apartment on Lokhra road in Guwahati.

We crossed our school and I screamed, “Daddy wait, please stop the car”

To everyone’s surprise I ran out of the car in speed and went straight to the third gate.

I wanted to see him once before I could go, but he wasn’t there.  He had called me earlier that day to say that he would wait at school for me. 

"Where was he? "

“Maybe he never felt the way I felt for him”

“I was such a fool to be crazy for him”

I sat on the grass and sobbed till Sheena convinced me to get into the car. Mummy and Daddy thought that I was going to miss school.

Years passed and after that summer's day, I had never tried to contact Rishab. Life had changed and I had begun to move on. Maybe I was angry that he didn't turn up that day or maybe I was ashamed that I was such a fool to be mad for someone who didn't deserve my affection.

8 years later I was invited for a reunion party at school in Guwahati. On having convinced mom and dad I left for Guwahati.

Although I had decided that I would never step into my school again, I deeply wanted to go for the reunion because of a very obvious reason.

The school hall was decorated and I caught a glimpse of all the familiar faces. As I slowly began greeting everyone, the blood started racing in my arteries because in no time I would be greeting Rishab.

My eyes kept glaring at the door.Half an hour had passed and eventually I had begun to loose hope. The next few minutes were lost in the visions from the past until something unexpected happened.

"Looking out for me?" A familiar voice reached my ears. Rishab stood behind me in a black blazer and looked stunning as ever.

I tried not to reveal my excitement on seeing him. I didn't want to be fooled again. But to my surprise he leaned forward to give me a light hug.

On asking the waiter to prepare a drink for him, he held out a glass of coke. "There's too much of commotion here. Come with me" He pulled my hand and led me towards the back gate of our school. I was truly awed. 

"You look beautiful, Suzzy", He said with a softness in his voice.

"And you look dashing Rishab...." I paused and said, "As always !!!"

We spoke about work and I got to know that he was working as a software engineer in Australia. He suddenly deviated from the topic and began talking about the days we spent in school.

"I am sorry Suzzane, I couldn't make it that day when you left Guwahati" He began to answer me the question I dared to ask him.

"I was helpless" He said with pitiful eyes."I had slipped from my cycle that day while coming to meet you and fractured my right leg. I couldn't even contact you later as I didn't have your phone number."

His eyes gleamed intensely as he tried to justify destiny that had torn us apart on that summer's day. I looked into his eyes and in a minute forgot all the anger that was buried deep inside.

"I had a confession to make Suzzane" he came closer to me just an inch away and said, "I had a mad crush on you when we were in school, I just didn't have the guts to tell you. I would wait to see you every morning near this gate"

Had cupid actually struck him? As I couldn't believe my ears. Was it a dream? My heart began to play a million romantic bollywood numbers.

That evening I confessed about the feelings that I had for him in school. We spoke ignoring all of the other classmates. It was actually a reunion of two hearts who were separated by time.

He dropped me at my hotel and I stepped out of the car.

"Suzzy"

"Yes Rishab" I turned to hear him.

"Will you be free tomorrow morning before you take your flight back home?"

"Yes I would make myself free Rishab"

I waved him a bye, turned 180 degrees and I blushed thinking that he had actually asked me out.

The stars sparkled above me and the moon smiled as I blushed reminiscing every single minute of the day.

Wondering what would happen the next day I fought with my pillows trying hard to cross the sleepless night and meet him again

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

Write Over the Weekend theme for this week

… And I Blushed! Write a post this weekend by including this phrase anywhere in your post. Let us know when, where and how it happened.

                

Sways and Swings

Haiku Prompt #264 : "Swing"

The Haiku Prompt inspired by "Haiku Heights" is "Swing".

The pendulum swings ceasing the past from us, making us live in the present and taking us to the future. 

To and fro it lilts,

Elapsed,current,future,

Ticks the pendulum

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Imagine a beautiful woman pass by, I am sure a million eyes will sway in sync with her movements.

Contemporary,

Eyeballs perceive her movements,

Natty, walks in style

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Crescendo in battle and thriller !!!

Haiku Prompt #259 : "Crescendo"

The Haiku Prompt inspired by "Haiku Heights" is "Crescendo".

This time I have written two Haiku's for this prompt. 

Have you heard the crescendo of galloping horses before a war could begin?

Horses galloping

Thuds and Thumps, peace rescinding

Battle beckoning

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Have you ever felt the crescendo of suspense while reading a thriller?

Writer amuses

Trifles with words, nerve reckons

Suspense revealed

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Unknown angel !!

Haiku Prompt #258 : "Lunch"

The Haiku Prompt inspired by "Haiku Heights" is "Lunch". 

The Haiku written written for the prompt, "Lunch" is inspired by the "Share My dabba" campaign brought about by Ms. Singh in Mumbai. Each day 16 tonnes of food gets wasted in these dabbas. According to this campaign the participant can place a "Share"sticker on their dabba and the dabbawalas in turn give these dabbas to Ms. Singh. She feeds the street children this food.

Such a noble deed indeed !!

The street kids are satisfied for the day but they are not sure about the morrow, nevertheless Ms. Singh is their angel and Hero.

You can also visit this page for the details (http://www.thenational.ae/news/world/south-asia/mumbais-dabbawalas-begin-deliveries-to-hungry-children)

Famished, run in glee

Satisfied, morrow unknown

Angel in disguise

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