CFFC: Earthy Images

Dryโ€œThose who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.โ€ โ€• Rachel Carson

Roadsideโ€œHow does one become a butterfly? You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.โ€โ€“Trina Paulus

Earthโ€œAll through my life, I have been tested. My will has been tested, my courage has been tested, my strength has been tested. Now my patience and endurance are being tested.โ€โ€• Muhammad Ali

Green field
‘Ticklers’ hunched over the field in their daily struggle to get Mother Earth to laugh…

“Earth is here so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest.”โ€” Douglas William Jerrold

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Harvest: Earth

Sorry about the blurred images. Pics were taken from inside a moving car.

For readers of Moonshineย here's Chapter 133

Die Another Day

โ€œOn account of bad weather, the seat belt sign has been switched on. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.โ€

Sia looked up from her Ipad as the air hostess aboard the Mumbai-Delhi flight made the announcement.

Deeply entrenched in the twists and turns of Chake De! India, she hadnโ€™t quite noticed the turbulence.

Siaโ€™s co-passenger on the window seat shifted uncomfortably โ€œJust look at that!โ€

Accepting the invitation, Sia leaned forward.

She gasped โ€“ a thick swirl of grey-brown lay directly below them and seemed to be growing bigger.

โ€œThere is a dust storm over Delhi and we are diverting to Jaipur. Sit back and relax.โ€ The Captainโ€™s reassuring boom echoed from the cockpit.

Oh good! She would be able to finish her movie. Sia smiled to herself as she turned her attention back to her downloaded movie.

โ€œHow can you watch a movie at this time?โ€ The guy next to Sia glared accusingly at her. โ€œWe are all going to die and you are sitting here watching a movie?โ€

Sia sighed and took off her earphones. โ€œWe arenโ€™t going to die. We areโ€ฆโ€

โ€œYes we are! Canโ€™t you see the thick billowing clouds? Can you not smell the dust?โ€

โ€œRelax! Didnโ€™t you hear the Captain? We are diverting to Jaipur. Itโ€™s all clear there.โ€

โ€œBut what if we die en route? What ifโ€ฆ?โ€

โ€œYikes!โ€ Sia jerked up straight in her seat. โ€œI never thought of that! I better get back to my movie, it has been on my bucket list for agesโ€ฆโ€

โ€œItโ€™s not funny!โ€

โ€œNo it isnโ€™t.โ€ Sia straightened her expression as it slipped. Her eyes strayed to her Ipad.

She sighed and held out her hand. โ€œHello I am Sia.โ€

โ€œWhatever.โ€

โ€œWhatโ€™s your problem?โ€ Sia asked.

โ€œMy problem is that you donโ€™t have any problem!โ€ His voice rose in affronted indignation. โ€œWe are going to die and all you are concerned about is your stupid movie.โ€

โ€œSo what would you have me do? Die before it is time to die?โ€

Frustrated, he glared at her. โ€œAt leastโ€ฆโ€

โ€œI could panic a bit?โ€ Sia twinkled at him. โ€œHave a fit or two?โ€ She twitched and rolled about her seat.

He rolled his eyes.

The aircraft dived and steadied. His knuckles turned white.

โ€œIs this your first trip to India?โ€

โ€œLast trip.โ€ He mumbled, his eyes determined closed.

Sia laughed.

He opened his eyes. โ€œHow can you laugh?โ€

โ€œHow can you begrudge me my last laugh before I die?โ€ Sia shot back.

He rolled his head as they hit another bad patch.

โ€œAt least tell me your name.โ€ Sia coaxed.

โ€œWhat good would that do? We are all going to dieโ€ฆโ€

โ€œTalk about yourself.โ€ Sia settled herself comfortably. โ€œI am not going to die.โ€

โ€œHow do you know?โ€

โ€œI just know.โ€

โ€œYeah right! So Ms Know-it-all, do tell me, am I going to die?โ€

Sia looked at him over.

She pursed her lips and tapped her head with a contemplative finger.

He rolled his eyes. โ€œHey come on! Cut the dramatics would ya?โ€

Smothering a laugh, Sia finally shook her head. โ€œNope.โ€

His lips twitched.

โ€œSo when am I going to die Ms Sia?โ€ He folded his hands and bowed.

Sia raised her hand in blessing. โ€œI say never.โ€

She was rewarded with a laugh.

โ€œThe dust storm has passed and we are heading back to Delhi. The seat belt sign has been switched off but forโ€ฆโ€

As the announcement droned on, Sia pinned him down with a smug expression.

He returned her look expressionlessly but gave up. He threw up his hands in defeat. โ€œSia maiyya ki jai!โ€

Sia clapped her hands. โ€œVery good! I am impressed.โ€

โ€œI thought you would be depressed.โ€ He looked out of the window trying to hide his embarrassment.

โ€œNever mind,โ€ Sia consoled, โ€œit happens to the best of us.โ€

โ€œBut I am better than the best!โ€ He turned to her. โ€œTell me werenโ€™t you scared? Not even a bit?โ€

โ€œOf course I was.โ€Sia confirmed. โ€œBut not of dying. Of crashing down, breaking bones, hospitalizationโ€ฆโ€

โ€œOh those! Thatโ€™s all reversible. I am talking about dying.โ€

โ€œI knew I wasnโ€™t going to die.โ€ Sia said.

โ€œBut how?โ€ He was all at sea.

โ€œIt’s all thanks to you.”

“Excuse me?”

Sia burst out laughing at his confused expression. I knew I wasn’t going to die because you didn’t let me watch the movie. And I wasnโ€™t going to die without seeing the whole movie.โ€

โ€œWhaaa!โ€ He stared at her open- mouthed. โ€œCrazy.โ€

โ€œYep! We Indians are like that. Crazy.โ€

He shook his head. โ€œHow do you do it?โ€

โ€œComplete and unquestioning faith in destiny. โ€œ Sia was serious. โ€œIf it is meant to be, it will be, if it is not,โ€ Sia shrugged.

โ€œWell your way of thinking beats me.โ€ He scratched his head. โ€œBut thank you for not letting me make a fool of myself.โ€

โ€œMy pleasure, and more than happy make the Lufthansa TVC a reality.โ€ Sia grinned mischievously at him.

He frowned.

โ€œWhen you have time, check out the advertisement, but for now, after that near-death experience,โ€ she twinkled, โ€œdo you think you could tell me your name?โ€

He held out his hand.

โ€œBond, my name is James Bond.โ€

***

A/N This is my first time participating in an indiblogger contest. I found the details in the mailbox this morning and voila! this happened. ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€

Thank you for reading and do let me a note. Have a super day.

#MoreIndianThanYouThink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Double Standards

dale-rogerson-pizza

Double Standards

Words 100

โ€œDid your parents agree to our wedding?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€

โ€œWhy not?โ€

โ€œThey were skeptical about the morals of a girl who was living in.โ€

โ€œDidnโ€™t you tell them you insisted?โ€

โ€œEven if I did, it wouldnโ€™t make any difference.โ€

โ€œWhy not?โ€

โ€œHow could you give in to my demands?โ€

โ€œI love you. I cannot refuse you anything.โ€

โ€œIf you canโ€™t stand up to me, how will you stand up to the world?โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t you love me?โ€

โ€œI do.โ€

โ€œThen?โ€

โ€œI cannot go against my parents’ wishes.โ€

โ€œIf you cannot stand up to them, you donโ€™t deserve to stand by my side.โ€

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and Dale Rogerson for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt, click here.

Thank you for reading.

Mango Trees

There are three mango trees right outside my window.

CornerThis one is at the left corner and its branches intermingle with the middle one – almost as if they were one. If you visited my earlier post here you would remember that I commented on theirย apparent overnight transformation. One fine day I noticed that the leaves were no longer dark or stiff and dusty. They wereย lush, tender green, brown and yellow shiny leaves! No striptease, shedding old leaves, baring arms and all that โ€“ just a magical instant make over. I promisedย to catch them in the act the next time. But that was a whole year away. That’s when it struck me – there was no need to wait for so long.

MtreesThey were both here, right under my nose. That’s the middle mango tree on the left and the third one on the right. I don’t need to ask you if you can see the difference between the two mango trees.

Mango treeOne is lush green and yellow, overloaded with fresh luscious leaves, heavily pregnant so to speak, just waiting to pop out mangoes. And the other, stuck in a time warp with its dark sparse leaves, stagnant and unchanging through the seasons. As if it had given up on life, barely hanging on – a gust of wind would be enough to snap it, end it all.

I looked once more at the dying tree and blinked.

What was that?

MangoWithin the dry hard winter leaves nestled tender, fresh shiny leaves, lime and brown.ย Canย you see?

By the way, how many mangoes did you count?

It’s never over until you say it is over – and sometimes not even then.

For Becca’s Sunday Trees 283

WPC: Summer Surprises

The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge wants us to show a few surprises that we may have captured.

Ddn

Traveling through this picturesque stretch, I was surprised to see the images in the rear view mirror. And don’t miss the carpet of leaves ๐Ÿ™‚ Apologies for the blurred image – the auto ride was terribly bumpy ๐Ÿ˜€

SunflowerDon’t they look like unruly children trying to escape? And do check out the tiny top hat on the middle rod – Warden in charge perhaps ๐Ÿ˜‰

ButterflyLook what I found in my mum’s garden! Not at all camera shy ๐Ÿ˜€

Thanks for visitingย  – do surprise me with a note.

Poetry for No Rhyme or Reason

Since as long as I can remember I have been at loggerheads with poetry. I admired the rhyme but could often find no reason. Prose was my cup of tea I decided.ย I tried writing poetry but always felt a sort of disconnect with it, as I struggled to understand them and worse never really enjoyed the โ€˜hassleโ€™ of penning them. I struggle with prose too but it is never a chore, I can sit with it for hours – just like I have been at this post!

But then I came across a post by Theresa, which forced me to re-look into my antipathy towards poems. And understand that poetry is not about understanding but about feeling.

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. T.S. Eliot

I had the first inkling of this when I came across the Shiv Tandav Stotram by Ravana, which he composed to appease Lord Shiva.ย Ravana is a Hindu mythological figure and that he composed a song is in itself mind boggling โ€“ did he actually exist? And then comes the poem, in Sanskrit, a language that I donโ€™t know. Yet the song, the poem with its onomatopoeias and alliterations resonates and never fails to pull me right into it, leaving me exhilarated,ย uncaring and unmindful of the world and its shenanigans.ย I finally understood why Lord Shiva forgave him. Anyone who can compose like this, deserves another chance, and another, and anotherโ€ฆ.

But that didn’t stop me from dissecting poems, struggling, scoffing, scorning until Theresa introducedย me to this poem:

Introduction to Poetry

by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poemโ€™s room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the authorโ€™s name on the shore.

but all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.

I was stunned – I was guilty of doing exactly the very same thing! I should technically be ashamed and embarrassed but I am too relieved and flying high to be any such thing ๐Ÿ˜€ Thank you Theresa! Do visit her blog for the complete post and more amazing poems.

I would also like to share with you with aย poem written by the French poet, novelist, and dramatist Jean-Pierre Simeรณn. It has been translated into English by Claudia Zoe Bedrick, and illustrated by Ollivier Tallec.

The poem is about a little boy Arthur, whose fish Leon is dying from boredom. His mother advises him to give Leon a poem. And thus begins Arthurโ€™s journey to find a poem. He meets and asks several people and finally returns with this to Leon:

A poem
is when you have the sky in your mouth.
It is hot like fresh bread,
when you eat it,
a little is always left over.

A poem
is when you hear
the heartbeat of a stone,
when words beat their wings.
It is a song sung in a cage.

A poem
is words turned upside down
and suddenly!
the world is new.

Click here for Leon’s reaction, the complete poem, illustrations and original links. And while you are there, you may consider subscribing to Brain Pickings, a goldmine and a must read for all ๐Ÿ™‚

PS: I am very pleased to tell you that the Haiku queen penned another commended haiku for theย IAFOR Vladimir Devidรฉ Haiku Award 2017.

our baby
between us
a new distance
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  Suraja Roychowdhury, USA

Congratulations Suraja – look forward to many such pearls ๐Ÿ™‚

The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it.ย Dylan Thomas

Thank you for reading – wishing you all a wonderful weekend, Happy Easter, Happy ย Baisakhi, Happy Vishu and Shubho Noboborsho and anything else I may have missed! ๐Ÿ™‚

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 132

SPF: The Amusement Park

ย 197-04-april-9th-2017

The Amusement Park

Words 198

 

โ€œCome along Granny! Letโ€™s ride the Columbus.โ€

โ€œNo dear! I canโ€™t handle so much excitement.โ€

โ€œThen letโ€™s go for a gentle train ride on Piggy.โ€ Lilly offered.

โ€œNo darling. Iโ€™ll just sit here and watch the fun. Go on now.โ€

Great! Now even your granddaughter pities you.

Just because you lost your husband.

To another woman.

Your own sister.

And now Death had taken them both.

โ€œGranny! You are missing all the fun!โ€

Snehlata waved to her granddaughter.

She knew how it worked.

A gentle swing at first, a slow build up and then an earthshaking stomach heaving nerve wracking swing from one end of the horizon to the other โ€“ relentlessly, over and over again.

Just like it had for the past three decades.

Pity that her best ride had been also been her last.

Switching her sisterโ€™s insulin injection and then parading as her ghost had been an exhilarating experience.

But those days were behind her.

It was time for a Piggy ride.

โ€œHello Ramesh. Howโ€™s your wife?โ€

โ€œSheโ€™s bedridden, dependent and cranky as hell.โ€

โ€œI am so sorry to hear that. Do you think she might like me to visit?โ€

Perhaps one last roller coaster rideโ€ฆ

***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thanks for reading and look forward to reading your comments ๐Ÿ™‚

Undone

Unravel

Hunched over

A spread-eagled rat

I unraveled

Was it the chloroform,

Old Spice

Or you?

Clearly I am re-unraveling ๐Ÿ˜‰ Go on say it, I am waiting for the axe to fallย ๐Ÿ˜€ย 

Photo credit: Svkukiย 

 

 

CFFC: Fiery

Summer is here and it is only right that the Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge should focus on Summer: Fire

So, without any further ado, hop on for a fiery ride ๐Ÿ™‚

TrainWhere there’s smoke there’s bound to be fire right?

JhumkoSome fiery orange blossoms

FlowerBright yellow flowers hanging upside down – anyone know what they are called?

GardenNice summery feel to this garden isn’t there?

MatchedIf you are looking for something that is really combustible – here we are. Probably guilty (at least partly) of the global warming ๐Ÿ˜‰

Thanks for visiting – do let me know your favourite pic ๐Ÿ™‚

For readers of Moonshine, here's  Chapter 131

Living a Lie

Mt Pilatus

Through swirling mists

I followed you

on faith alone.

When the hazeย lifted

I reached out and

blindfolded myself

 

This is another unexplored genre for me. What do you think? Did it make sense? Is the format all wrong?ย 

In response to the Daily Post’s one-word prompt – Blindly