A Dreamy Journey

(Weekly Photo Challenge – Dreamy)

It was raining hard that day. The phone got wet and the photographs went all hazy. But then, I realised, they had a different kind of beauty.

Walking out of my office building, I saw this horse cart turn into our lane.

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

I reached the railway station, and a wonderful sight met my eyes.

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

The phone continued taking hazy images, but I had begun to have fun by now. Here’s another along the railway tracks.

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Wait, but first, let me take a selfie 🙂

Off the train and on my way home.

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

Photograph by Rishal Bhide

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A Song Or Two

 (Written for Friday Fictioneers)

Photograph by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photograph by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

My dearest pink cheeked lady

You make me go Boom! Bang! Pow!

My heart drum rolls every time I behold you

You are an inspiration to my musical chow.

~~

If you are the pluck, I am the string

If you are the rhythm, I am the tune

If you are the piano’s white, I am the black

For you my love, I’ll even jam on the moon.

~~

You complete the harmony of my unmelodious life

I wonder if you would like to be my wife

We’ll make songs of love and despair

If the neighbours complain, we just wouldn’t care.

Mix Salad

(Written for Weekly Writing Challenge : This week’s challenge is to use the aid of an unreliable narrator in telling your story)

“C’mon Jenna, hurry up with my tea, will ya?”

Old Ma hollered down the hallway. Tess shivered. She hated the Thursday of every week. For it meant it was her turn to serve Old Ma for the day – breakfast, mid morning snack, lunch, high tea, dinner and everything in between. The torture was unbearable. Snide remarks, occasional slaps and the volley of curses – she seemed to bring out the worst in that horrible woman.

“Lost in thought again, are you? Are you making fanciful plans of going to Hollywood? Or is it the yatch trip with that despicable boy Jerry? C’mon you daydreaming cow, do you think I have all day to sit and wait for a stupid fluff like you?”

“‘Not that you have a choice,” Tess sighed. She knew Fanny had set the wooden legs afire on purpose. Which meant Old Ma was confined to her room all the time. Fanny was such a lovable girl –always up to some mischief! She always had this twinkle in her eye, as though life was a big joke to her. “Someday I would like to be as fun as her,” Tess thought ruefully, walking out with the meal tray. Shivering from head to toe.

On top of the staircase, she was glad Nyla took over. Nyla had always been good to her. Whenever Tess was in trouble, Nyla would be her saving grace. That girl seemed to worship the old woman. There was a sort of reverence in her eyes that was definitely not fake. She knocked the door and quietly entered Old Ma’s room.

“What a mess this place is,” thought Zenia. She made it a point to leave the room spic and span, and yet every morning the room looked like it had been struck by a hurricane. “What have you done this time Beth?” Zenia sighed. It was true that no one petrified Old Ma more that Beth, but this was getting out of hand now – if not checked in time, she would probably end up killing the old woman. “Not that anyone would be upset about that,” Zenia grinned. She was glad to not be on the receiving end when Beth was in her full blown fury – those angry red eyes would make even the most brave hearted cower in fright.

Old Ma placed the tray on her lap and looked up, not sure who to expect today. Her eyes immediately softened and she clutched the pretty girl in front of her. “Marion! Oh thank heavens it’s you! I’ve missed you my baby. Don’t leave me. Please don’t. The others…the others…they are you but just…just not you.”

“I know Ma, I’ve missed you too.” Marion smiled at her mother. She stared out of the window enjoying the moment…not knowing which one of the others would take over her mind next.

203970941

I Was Something Else, You Know

(Written for Friday Fictioneers)

Photograph by Claire Fuller

Photograph by Claire Fuller

You are famous – there are those who are awed by you and want to emulate you in every way. Flattering? Of course!

You are famous – killed for being so lovable, set in stone for the rest of eternity, someone steals your identity and parades around pretending to be you. Flattering? No way!

Welcome to the wo-duh-rld of San Claude.

Have you perchance seen that bulge-bellied, red-donning, sack-carrying, bearded man? That’s the crook. Goes by the name ‘Santa Claus’. Hand him o’er to the sheriff the next time you see him.

And the ‘HO-HO-HO!’ was originally my signature laugh.

fat-santa

 

 

The Window Scraper

(Written for Friday Fictioneers)

It has been so many months since I wrote a flash for FF. Glad to be back 🙂

Photograph by Ted Strutz

Photograph by Ted Strutz

 

Scrape! Scrape!

Without glancing at the screen behind her, Stella knew it was Dooz at work again.

Dooz had been given his plastic dental tools as a reward for good behaviour.

Each day, he spent some time trying to scrape the life out of the window. ‘I need some fresh air’, he complained in his shrill voice.

It had been three years but there was not even a scratch on the fortified window.

Stella suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder.

The last thing she heard was Dooz’s icy voice in her ear – “You forgot the door was made of weaker glass missy.”

 

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Selfie

It’s been a while since I’ve put up a post dedicated to my favourite Weekly Photo Challenge. Hopefully, I shall continue posting more stuff in the days to come (as I promised myself the last time I posted!). Also, this topic is from about 2 weeks back, but I was busy getting married, so I guess some leeway is allowed here 😉

So the deal is that I absolutely love selfies.  Here’s a look at some of Me.

Self paparazzi and the drama which follows

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

 

Caught in a spoon

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

 

Shy and demure I am…NOT

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

 

There was this time, when I caught myself in the webcam

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

 

This isn’t a bad hair day, it is a lot of hair oil and fun PJs!

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

Selfie by Rishal Bhide

This Story Has 3 Sides

(Written for Weekly Writing Challenge : This week’s challenge is to tell the same story from two or more unique perspectives in whichever format you want)

 

The scene: Stark hospital room with a female patient.

In a white bed I lie

Revisiting old memories, happy & sad

Clock ticks as life ebbs

Clock ticks as life ebbs

I smile as the end seems near now

A beckoning arises from the beyond

Woman – The one with all the time, all the enthusiasm but no energy.

 —

The scene: Stark hospital room with a female patient, her husband holding her hand.

They say time heals

But it only deepens the sorrow

My love fades before my eyes

My love fades before my eyes

She smiles to suggest she is ok

My eyes smile back as the heart cries

Husband – The one with all the energy, all the time, but no enthusiasm.

 —

The scene: Stark hospital room with a female patient, her husband holding her hand as the doctor hurries to check the patient’s reports.

I rush past my duties

Mechanically, emotionlessly

Need to catch the matinee show

Need to catch the matinee show

Apart from the drama unfolding in the room

This job defies emotional indulgence

Doctor – The one with all the enthusiasm, all the energy but no time.

  .

 

 

 

 

 

Criticism never kills

(Written for Daily Prompt – Tell us about the harshest, most difficult to hear — but accurate — criticism you’e ever gotten. Does it still apply?)

 p20121127-095213“Writer? You want to be a writer? Where has that sprung from? Can you even write?”, Dad asked me incredulously.

This was a question, yes, but it stung me as though judgement had been thrown in to my face. But then again, I knew better than getting miffed with Dad. I had not shared a word of what I wrote with my parents, or anyone else for that matter. So obviously, I couldn’t expect a better reaction when I told my parents that I wanted to be a writer – a copywriter specifically.

Mom gave me a look which said “There goes my daughter with one of her harebrained ideas which she won’t see through till the end…again!” She suggested I get a regular job (in line with the masters degree in marketing I possessed) and then write as a by-the-way thing. I stood my ground.

I wanted to be a full-time writer.

But then, my parents’ reaction forced me to question my career decision again. Did I have it me to be a writer? Would I stick with this choice? Did I really possess the kind of imagination that might interest people in reading my writing? Luckily for me, the strangling question of will I earn enough? never occurred to me. I sought creative satisfaction over material comfort. I’d rather be happy with my limited amount of money than be rushing through a round-the-clock job that leaves me with no mental peace.

That was the last time, however, that I questioned my choice. And thankfully, neither did my parents.

Today, I’m glad I took that step and listened to my heart. I’m glad I made friends with words. I’m glad I’m doing fairly decently in my chosen field.

And it feels so nice when I see Dad sharing a piece written by me on Facebook 🙂

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!)

The Arches

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