A Brand New Coiffure

It’s time for Sunday Trees and this week I present one with an elegant and unique hairdo. In an earlier post, Theresa had suggested that “the tree is a woman wearing a lovely hairdo.” I agreed but only as an afterthought because I had already found my own favorite coiffured lady πŸ˜€

But before you scroll down for a glimpse of her, do visit Theresa’s post on two special trees who sent me messages, which T was kind enough to home deliver right across the seven seas – amazing isnt it?! Thank you once again Theresa πŸ™‚

Did you see them? Okay now you may scroll down πŸ˜€

weird strange crazy hairdo heart hairstyle

πŸ˜€ Taken from here.Oh another oneΒ inspired from animals.

 

Hmmmmm...  *Animal hair styles?

Time for some hairdos inspired by trees don’t you think? Here’s one for inspiration – and a true original

 

Hairdo

So which one is your favorite? Do let me know!

 

WPC: Sky High

The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge this week is Ascend, literal or otherwise. I opted to share one that has languishing on my desktop for quite a while now but is deserving of a larger audience. I often view it just to get a high albeit with a twinge of envy. I wish I could have seen it for myself.

Mini sky
Photo taken by my niece at Lyon

Nature in one of her moods πŸ˜‰

 

CB&W: Howz That!

Yeah yeah I am late again 😦 But hey! Better late than never right? πŸ˜€ And I have just the right set for Cee’s last week’s Black and White Photo challenge: Houses. But then I may be prejudiced so I’ll let you be the judge – free and fair!

Got your wig on? Let’s go, I mean scroll πŸ˜‰

42This house (okay building – Cee did say we could be creative πŸ˜‰ has its head in the clouds. It’s in Kolkata and called The 42. Apparently they wanted to build 65 floors but were denied permission (as it would be too close to heaven?) and restricted it to 42. πŸ˜€

OyoI snapped this photo in Bengaluru for the reflection – looks really cool doesnt it?

Punascha

This is an open terraced house Punsacha (once again) at Santiniketan where the Nobel laureate Guru Rabindranath Tagore penned his immortal pieces. I was entranced by the idea of windows on the side walls of the open terrace. But then it was probably put there for the rainy days when the terrace would be covered with tarpaulin.

SantiniketanAnother house at the Santiniketan complex which I preferred to admire from afar πŸ™‚

TreeH

Kolkata is a city of contrasts much more than any other metropolitan city in India, except perhaps Mumbai. And scenes such as this one is liberally interspersed between swanky new state of the art buildings.

TreeH2

We were bewitched by the house or should I say the invisible residents of the house?

TreeH3

Ruins

Was it not

just yesterday

when you

cut me down

to build your empire

upon my ruins?

 

The Genie

lampost-s-pier-sandra-crook

The Genie

Words 100

Β β€œDadu, what did you get from the haat*?” His grandchildren crowded him.

Snehlata cracked another areca nut and spoke through a paan* stuffed mouth, β€œMore junk for this junkyard.”

Ignoring her, he held up his treasure.

β€œWhat is it?” Rina wondered.

β€œI know!” Deep’s eyes sparkled. β€œThat’s Humpty Dumpty. They put him together again!”

β€œNo.” Dadu coughed. β€œIt’s Aladdin’s lamp.”

β€œRubbish!”

β€œDidu’s right,” Rina spoke hesitantly, β€œit doesn’t look…”

β€œThey fooled us all these years.” Dadu spoke in hushed tones.

β€œCall the Genie Dadu,” Deep urged.

β€œGenie!” Dadu coughed. β€œBring my inhaler!”

Snehlata held out the inhaler. β€œDinner is served.”

Β ***

*Haat: Local market in rural areas in India

*Paan: a preparation combining betel leaf with areca nut among other ingredients such as tobacco. It is chewed for its stimulant and psychoactive effects and prevalent in India since the 3rd Century A.D.

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

The Freeloader

Hello! I am back – anyone miss me? Ah well neither did I – so there! πŸ˜‰ I have been busy traveling and I did lots of shopping – tree shopping πŸ˜€ I saw scores of grand aging graceful and otherwise eye catching trees. But there’s one (or should I say two) that stand out among them all.

20171208_163623.jpg

The outer tree is a deodar tree and the inside one is the jarul tree (Lagerstroemia speciosa giant crape-myrtle, Queen’s crape-myrtle, banabΓ‘ plant for Philippines, or Pride of India). At least that is what a local guide told us. But I am not really convinced, especially about the deodar tree which grows in the Himalayan regions and has needle like leaves. Perhaps it is the sal tree? Do you recognize the trees? Ferdi? Anyone?

But these are technicalities and as the bard said what is in a name? Especially when there is so much to see, marvel and wonder over.

Can you see how the jarul split the mother tree? And that despite being split she continues to nurture her protege? Did you notice how the jarul tree was cut away from its base and roots but yet it continues to grow deriving nourishment, sustenance and support from the parent tree.

A marvelous example of nature’s beauty, tenacity, and capacity to survive against all odds isnt it?

Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees

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No one

can save

me

from you

not even

me

SPF: Laughter the Best Glue

219-12-december-3rd-2017

Laughter the Best Glue

Words 201

β€œHappy fiftieth.” She placed his morning cup of tea on the table beside him as he sat bundled up in front of the heater.

β€œYou’re losing it woman.” He grunted. β€œI was born in summer.”

β€œWhat!” she halted in the act of sitting down. β€œAre you…?” she looked at him worriedly before easing down on the chair opposite him. β€œVery funny!” she huffed.

β€œAha!” He chortled. β€œYou thought I had lost it.”

β€œAren’t you going to wish me too?”

β€œFifty years?” he mused. β€œSuch a long time yet seems like yesterday doesn’t it?”

β€œYou were busy plotting ways to keep me jumping through the hoops.”

β€œI have been difficult haven’t I?” He looked at her. β€œWhat made you stick around?”

β€œWhy did you?” she parried.

β€œI asked first.”

β€œNever mind,” she sneered loftily, β€œI know why.”

β€œBecause I love you?”

β€œNonsense! Because you are lazy!” She twinkled. β€œAnd you hate any sort of change.”

β€œBut you revel in change.” He peered at her over his glasses. β€œSo what’s your excuse?”

She shrugged. β€œSame difference.”

β€œHow?” He frowned. β€œYou like change…”

β€œAnd you are so unpredictable.” She dropped a kiss on his shining pate. β€œBesides you always manage to make me laugh.”

Β ***

Β Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for regularly hosting the challenge (even if I dont always manage to rise to the bait) and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

Party Venue

20171125_105805The perfect getaway for some catch up time with friends on warm sunny winter mornings πŸ™‚

Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees

Are You Complicit?

Complicit has been adjudged the word of the year, as it is the most searched for word online at Dictionary.com. The article is an interesting read and gives a comprehensive overview of some of key events of the year 2017.

After the 2015’s unbelievable word of year and the depressing post-truth in 2016, I find myself quite enamored with complicit.

Complicit according to Dictionary.com means β€œchoosing to be involved in an illegal or questionable act, especially with others; having partnership or involvement in wrongdoing.” That means I can safely exclude me you and most others. So why would I ask if you (or I) were complicit? I mean we have not chosen to be involved in any illegal act have we?

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines complicit as β€œhelping to commit a crime or do wrong in some way.”

Choosing is an act of commission but in some way is a more loose/vague phrase and may include an act of omission as well. And that is what complicity is all about – omission or as Dictionary.com elaborates: β€œOr, put simply, it means being, at some level, responsible for something . . . even if indirectly.”

And therein lies the strength and beauty of the word – in its connotation. Simply looking the other way could make you complicit. It is a word that that ropes in everyone standing on the sidelines, it points fingers, grabs us by the collar and demands to know: Why are you silent? Why are you COMPLICIT?

Complicit brings to the fore what we have always been taught since school: “Forget not that the grossest crime is to compromise with injustice and wrong. Remember the eternal law: you must give, if you want to get.” Subhas Chandra Bose

Yet like all lessons this too needed to be brushed up and reiterated. And we need to be shaken out from our stupor, our chalta hai attitude and speak out. We are a certified argumentative lot so why don’t we speak out more?

It is time that we stood up and be counted. Be that β€˜faceless’ society in whose name today honor killings and other atrocities against women continue to be committed. It is time to stop blaming the victim and call out the real perpetrators – her parents for being responsible for dowry deaths and bride burning.

It is time to call them out, shift them from the victim category and lump them along with the killers. Why are only in-laws being booked? Why not the parents too? The in-laws can demand, deprive, torture and murder the bride only because her parents are complicit. If they weren’t, then they would have taken her away at the first instance of threat and injustice. With an assured safe house, no girl would feel the need to commit suicide or strangle her own daughter.

But unfortunately, not many parents do that, do they? Once she is married, their responsibility ends. They have done their duty, fed her clothed her, educated her, gotten her married and sent her off with due pomp and ceremony to her real home, her paradise on earth. They are more than happy and relieved to be free of their burden and more than ready to reap the benefits of their good karma.

Wait. What if there is trouble in paradise?

Well what could they do? They were poor, old, incapable and bechare. They didn’t make the rules the society did and if everyone could follow the rules so could she. It was now time for her to pay her parents back for their sacrifice, do her duty, be the β€˜good girl’ and shoulder her own burden. Silently.

Besides, if it was her destiny to be an educated, qualified six-figure earning 21st century slave, what could her parents do except shed unhappy tears, keep fasts and pray?

Fiction? No. Just the unpleasant, painful, disturbing reality of many a woman in India. One that we prefer to look away from, blame her and think of other safer comfortable things. But like Luvvie Ajayi says in her amazing TED talk – Let’s get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

While skydiving she realized that β€œcomfort is overrated. Because being quiet is comfortable. Keeping things the way they’ve been is comfortable. And all comfort has done is maintain the status quo. So we’ve got to get comfortable with being uncomfortable by speaking these hard truths when they’re necessary.” Like she says, β€œAnd in a world that wants us to whisper, I choose to yell.”

As do I. If aging infirm parents can sue their sons and the government mobilized to enact a law that makes it a legal obligation for children and heirs to provide better and safe living conditions for them why can’t similar provisions be made for daughters trapped in unhappy marriages?

Well, why are you so silent?

Are you ready to call a spade a spade or if you like fairy tales, call the naked emperor naked?

Are you going to speak up? Stop existing in isolation? Take sides? Make a difference, and leave the world a little bit better than it was?

Β Or would you prefer to be complicit?

Β Your choice, their lives.

***

 

# 7 of 7 Day B&W Photo

It’s the last day of the 7 Day B&W Photo challenge but don’t think you’ve seen the last of me πŸ˜€

β€œSince when,” he asked,
“Are the first line and last line of any poem
Where the poem begins and ends?”
― Seamus Heaney

20171104_095325.jpg

Imprisoned –

me in you

you in me

Thank you all for your indulgence and patience – wish you all a wonderful weekend πŸ™‚

For links to the previous posts click here:

Day 1Β 

Day 2Β 

Day 3Β 

Day 4

Day 5

Day 6

 

# 6 of 7 day B&W Photo

Ganesh

The worst feeling isn’t about being lonely but about being forgotten by the person whom you can’t forget.” Anonymous

That’s rather sad isn’t it? But then life is all about perspective isn’t it?

Image result for discarded quotes

Have a great day πŸ™‚

For links to the previous posts (and to read about the challenge) click here

Day 1Β 

Day 2Β 

Day 3Β 

Day 4

Day 5