CFFC: Earthy Images

Dry“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.” ― Rachel Carson

Roadside“How does one become a butterfly? You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”–Trina Paulus

Earth“All 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.”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.”— 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 Moonshine here's Chapter 133

Die Another Day

On account of bad weather, the seat belt sign has been switched on. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”

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 hadn’t quite noticed the turbulence.

Sia’s co-passenger on the window seat shifted uncomfortably “Just look at that!”

Accepting the invitation, Sia leaned forward.

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

“There is a dust storm over Delhi and we are diverting to Jaipur. Sit back and relax.” The Captain’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.

“How can you watch a movie at this time?” The guy next to Sia glared accusingly at her. “We are all going to die and you are sitting here watching a movie?”

Sia sighed and took off her earphones. “We aren’t going to die. We are…”

“Yes we are! Can’t you see the thick billowing clouds? Can you not smell the dust?”

“Relax! Didn’t you hear the Captain? We are diverting to Jaipur. It’s all clear there.”

“But what if we die en route? What if…?”

“Yikes!” Sia jerked up straight in her seat. “I never thought of that! I better get back to my movie, it has been on my bucket list for ages…”

“It’s not funny!”

“No it isn’t.” Sia straightened her expression as it slipped. Her eyes strayed to her Ipad.

She sighed and held out her hand. “Hello I am Sia.”

“Whatever.”

“What’s your problem?” Sia asked.

“My problem is that you don’t have any problem!” His voice rose in affronted indignation. “We are going to die and all you are concerned about is your stupid movie.”

“So what would you have me do? Die before it is time to die?”

Frustrated, he glared at her. “At least…”

“I could panic a bit?” Sia twinkled at him. “Have a fit or two?” She twitched and rolled about her seat.

He rolled his eyes.

The aircraft dived and steadied. His knuckles turned white.

“Is this your first trip to India?”

“Last trip.” He mumbled, his eyes determined closed.

Sia laughed.

He opened his eyes. “How can you laugh?”

“How can you begrudge me my last laugh before I die?” Sia shot back.

He rolled his head as they hit another bad patch.

“At least tell me your name.” Sia coaxed.

“What good would that do? We are all going to die…”

“Talk about yourself.” Sia settled herself comfortably. “I am not going to die.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“Yeah right! So Ms Know-it-all, do tell me, am I going to die?”

Sia looked at him over.

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

He rolled his eyes. “Hey come on! Cut the dramatics would ya?”

Smothering a laugh, Sia finally shook her head. “Nope.”

His lips twitched.

“So when am I going to die Ms Sia?” He folded his hands and bowed.

Sia raised her hand in blessing. “I say never.”

She was rewarded with a laugh.

“The dust storm has passed and we are heading back to Delhi. The seat belt sign has been switched off but for…”

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. “Sia maiyya ki jai!”

Sia clapped her hands. “Very good! I am impressed.”

“I thought you would be depressed.” He looked out of the window trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Never mind,” Sia consoled, “it happens to the best of us.”

“But I am better than the best!” He turned to her. “Tell me weren’t you scared? Not even a bit?”

“Of course I was.”Sia confirmed. “But not of dying. Of crashing down, breaking bones, hospitalization…”

“Oh those! That’s all reversible. I am talking about dying.”

“I knew I wasn’t going to die.” Sia said.

“But how?” He was all at sea.

“It’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 wasn’t going to die without seeing the whole movie.”

“Whaaa!” He stared at her open- mouthed. “Crazy.”

“Yep! We Indians are like that. Crazy.”

He shook his head. “How do you do it?”

“Complete and unquestioning faith in destiny. “ Sia was serious. “If it is meant to be, it will be, if it is not,” Sia shrugged.

“Well your way of thinking beats me.” He scratched his head. “But thank you for not letting me make a fool of myself.”

“My pleasure, and more than happy make the Lufthansa TVC a reality.” Sia grinned mischievously at him.

He frowned.

“When you have time, check out the advertisement, but for now, after that near-death experience,” she twinkled, “do you think you could tell me your name?”

He held out his hand.

“Bond, my name is James Bond.”

***

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. 😀 😀

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

#MoreIndianThanYouThink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Double Standards

dale-rogerson-pizza

Double Standards

Words 100

“Did your parents agree to our wedding?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They were skeptical about the morals of a girl who was living in.”

“Didn’t you tell them you insisted?”

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t make any difference.”

“Why not?”

“How could you give in to my demands?”

“I love you. I cannot refuse you anything.”

“If you can’t stand up to me, how will you stand up to the world?”

“Don’t you love me?”

“I do.”

“Then?”

“I cannot go against my parents’ wishes.”

“If you cannot stand up to them, you don’t deserve to stand by my side.”

***

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 their apparent overnight transformation. One fine day I noticed that the leaves were no longer dark or stiff and dusty. They were lush, tender green, brown and yellow shiny leaves! No striptease, shedding old leaves, baring arms and all that – just a magical instant make over. I promised 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. Can 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 🙂 Apologies for the blurred image – the auto ride was terribly bumpy 😀

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 😉

ButterflyLook what I found in my mum’s garden! Not at all camera shy 😀

Thanks for visiting  – 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. 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 ‘hassle’ 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. Ravana is a Hindu mythological figure and that he composed a song is in itself mind boggling – did he actually exist? And then comes the poem, in Sanskrit, a language that I don’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, uncaring and unmindful of the world and its shenanigans. I finally understood why Lord Shiva forgave him. Anyone who can compose like this, deserves another chance, and another, and another….

But that didn’t stop me from dissecting poems, struggling, scoffing, scorning until Theresa introduced 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 poem’s room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author’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 😀 Thank you Theresa! Do visit her blog for the complete post and more amazing poems.

I would also like to share with you with a poem written by the French poet, novelist, and dramatist Jean-Pierre Simeón. 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 Arthur’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 🙂

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

our baby
between us
a new distance
                                                                                                                                                              Suraja Roychowdhury, USA

Congratulations Suraja – look forward to many such pearls 🙂

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

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

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 132

SPF: The Amusement Park

 197-04-april-9th-2017

The Amusement Park

Words 198

 

“Come along Granny! Let’s ride the Columbus.”

“No dear! I can’t handle so much excitement.”

“Then let’s go for a gentle train ride on Piggy.” Lilly offered.

“No darling. I’ll just sit here and watch the fun. Go on now.”

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.

“Granny! You are missing all the fun!”

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 – 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 sister’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.

“Hello Ramesh. How’s your wife?”

“She’s bedridden, dependent and cranky as hell.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. Do you think she might like me to visit?”

Perhaps one last roller coaster ride…

***

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 🙂

Undone

Unravel

Hunched over

A spread-eagled rat

I unraveled

Was it the chloroform,

Old Spice

Or you?

Clearly I am re-unraveling 😉 Go on say it, I am waiting for the axe to fall 😀 

Photo credit: Svkuki 

 

 

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 🙂

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 😉

Thanks for visiting – do let me know your favourite pic 🙂

For readers of Moonshine, here's  Chapter 131

Living a Lie

Mt Pilatus

Through swirling mists

I followed you

on faith alone.

When the haze 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? 

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