To Do Or Not To Do

Photograph by Kellie Elmore

Photograph by Kellie Elmore

(Written for Free Write Friday)

A good day today

With the sun shining yellow

A resplendent bride

 

A resplendent bride

Eyes sparkling bright

Frown lines on forehead

 

Frown lines on forehead

Hidden beneath the raven crowning glory

Thoughtful smile

 

Thoughtful smile

Running shoes in place of jewelled sandals

Just in case

(Completely fiction this one- creative liberties taken here. Kellie – I wish your friend a lifetime of happiness!)

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The Arches

A Word A Week Challenge – This week’s topic is Arch

Finding Joy In A Thrift Store

(Written for Friday Fictioneers)

Photograph by John Nixon

Photograph by John Nixon

“Ermm..how much are the china glasses for?”

“15 bucks for these, 10 for the floral.”

“P-paper cups?”

“Buck a dozen.”

“That Kodak camera?”

“4 – with a film’

“The blue suit in the corner?”

“30 bucks – that’s the least for a slow day.”

“I’ll take the brown jacket in the corner please.”

“Ok. I’ll throw in a bowtie and socks for free.”

“And the…”, the old man blushed, “And the white gown?”

“So it’s a wedding! Whose?”

“Mine”.

Arnie couldn’t wait to see the astonished expression on Edith’s face, providing little comfort for being 40 years late.

Courtesy - Google

Courtesy – Google

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: An Unusual POV

Let’s look at the world from a different point of view

VIEW THROUGH THE WINDOW

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

 

VIEW FROM THE GROUND

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

 

VIEW FROM THE BALCONY

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

 

VIEW FROM THE SKY

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

 

VIEW FROM THE FLOOR

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

 

The Old Man by the Window

(Written for Daily Prompt)

window

Bent back

Unshaven cheeks

Baseball cap on

Baseball cap on

Wispy white hair

Old man by the window

Old man by the window

Coffee gone cold

On a Sunday morning

On a Sunday morning

Lonely bearing

Brimming eyes

Brimming eyes

Vacant to happenings around

Troubled mind

As I sat composing this senryu, I wondered what this old man’s story was. Maybe his wife had died, or his son had forgotten him, or a close friend had deserted him. I searched for some meaning in his unfocused eyes. The waiter, noticing how I was trying so hard to read the old man, settled the doubts in my mind.

“The chap’s just zoned out ma’am. It’s the same every weekend.”

No story there then.

I Am (my own) Rock

(Written for Daily Prompt)

Self Portrait by Rishal Bhide

Self Portrait by Rishal Bhide

With self reliance comes a great responsibility. There is no one to blame for that wrong decision you made, no one to question when things don’t go according to the plan, no one to lean on in times of distress.

But, there also comes a great sense of freedom. Of being independent. Of being responsible for your own actions, and their own outcomes.

I am that kind of person. I don’t like to burden someone else with my life’s issues. That is something I have to deal with on my own. And most times, I do a fine job of it. Writing helps me a lot these days. Writing about what I feel, why I feel that way, unspoken words – all find their way into my stories (maintained in a separate private blog). At the end of the day, you need an outlet – and writing is mine.

However, it does get difficult to grapple with issues especially when I am down on emotion. But what is gained from such experiences is the ability to take a multi-sided view of situations. I look at things from different perspectives even when the situation concerns other people. At least for me, it helps me empathize with them in a more effective manner.

But the downer on this is I come across as someone who doesn’t share stuff with others (which I obviously am). I see people trying hard to get through to me, while I fight to keep them at an arm’s distance. Don’t want to  too many people getting to close to me, and in the process getting hurt.

This has miffed a lot of my closed ones. I’m trying to strike a balance somewhere.

Sometime soon.

The Souvenirs

(Written for Friday Fictioneers)

Photograph by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Photograph by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

People collect souvenirs as reminders of the fine moments they have experienced. For Rufus, it was to remind him to be glad that he was alive.

He remembered the little girl who handed him her skating shoes, right before getting buried under a burning beam.

And the other time when a dying old man gave him a silver trophy before breathing his last – “I was the best singer in the county”, he spluttered.

And the golden pram he found in a debris. Ironic how this symbol of birth reminded him of death.

It wasn’t easy being a fireman with emotions.

.

The Dancer

Twirl like the whooshing wind

Dance like there is no tomorrow

Move and be moved

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

A cool winter day. Loud music blaring from the speakers. Half a dozen dancers dancing to some traditional Rajasthani folk songs as the crowds cheer them on.

In the midst of that frenzy-driven combination of movement and passion, there comes a moment of quiet. When the dancer pauses for a split second while the world around her still moves.