Theme reveal-A to Z challenge

This is is a theme reveal post,but let me first take the liberty to thank so many brilliant writers here who have unknowingly given the required impetus to kick start my blog.I missed the “spread your love”prompt on WRITE TRIBE –FESTIVAL OF WORDS.In January when I penned my first poem,I was simply clueless as to how to go about it.Then the inevitable google search and I came face to face with WRITE TRIBE and the lady with the most affectionate smile CORINNE RODRIGUES.

I must admit,confess and appreciate how she had a prompt solution to every hurdle that I faced.Being totally from a non technical background and very much new to blogging, Write Tribe has triggered off every single post in my blog and challenged and provoked me to take the road less travelled.

And certainly I would like to mention here a few blogs which I have gone through and given me the stimulus to be a part of the blogging community.

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Vidya Sury (http://vidyasury.com)

Shailaja Vishwanath(http://momdiary.blogspot.in)

Shilpa Garg(http://shilpaagarg.com)

Kajal Kapur(http://moviemasala.com)

Sreeja Praveen(http://thealertmind.blogspot.ae)

Psych Babbler(http://overcuppacoffee.com)

Inderpreet Kaur Uppal(http://inderpreetkauruppal.blogspot.in)

Nabanita Dhar(http://nabanita-blacknwhite.blogspot.in)

Today I take the opportunity to thank all of you……..

I remember my first post on write tribe…..and the first comment on it

was by Nabanita Dhar and Psych Babbler.Tears rolled down,as I read those comments……..Time crunch and domestic responsbilites had dragged me away from the creativity that I adored most.You all have given that back to me.

You all are brilliant ……………

And here I am participating in the A TO Z challenge and writing a post for the theme reveal………

I would be writing 26 short stories/poems,reminiscing the childhood days…..and incidents which have left their mark on me…. and would  invariably title them as

“Those sunny days.”

We have a wonderful group of extremely talented writers here at

 A to Z churning out exquisite write ups.Please join us at

A-Z 2014

for 26 days of Literary Festival.

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To write or to be right

To be a mother is synonymous to be omnipresent and to juggle with scores of work that hover around you…….

“you are like a goddess.”mamma she said convincingly.You can do ten things at a time.Can’t you?

It was very much believable for her to ask mamma to do two things at a time.She said stood there as I picked up the laundry for the day.”Mamma, she shrieked…..I am hungry..I just asked you to make pakodas, you want your chutku to go hungry?”.I gave her a stern look.She giggled at me and asked me to buckle her shoes.The door bell rang,and there were her friends…….”her face glistened as she looked them,she dragged me inside and whispered into my ears,”mamma,will you oblige me enough to make pakoras for my friends too?”

And just as I would give her a yell,she planted a kiss on my cheeks and the mother in me flooded with emotions,nodded to her request.In a glance she dashed downstairs ,I could hear  and feel the effervescence in the air as they clambered and jostled with themselves…………

An array of question marks stood before me……in multitudes,taking robust and feeble features in their stride….the examination paper to be checked had broken the sole rubber band that wrapped them,poking themselves out of my vanity,the woollens were staring at me…..as if squealing…our innings are over…..its sunny today,the larder has been run over by mites…….they tried to grab my attention with the rattling sounds……….the guests for the night would check in any time……and my heart ached for my laptop…………..I just wish……I sighed!!!!

Half an hour later,the aroma of pakoras filled the air……….the  naughty clan……whirled up…….

The mother had won…….the teacher,the wife,the host……..had lost………………………..

This is not a contentious issue,but as a woman “we” ceaselessly scrutinise ourselves…….though we know our priorities but still,excellence is what matters to us……and as a woman,a mother,a daughter,a wife and as a manager……………..we still let the person who is at the other end win over us……cause we are the ones with boundless love and we love when our loved ones win…..

Their triumph is ours in every way..and I think most of you will agree………….

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The mute argument

The mute argument

The mute argument………

She went about tidying up her house,her head was spinning,her kids had made a mess…………..

tossed clothing,scattered books,single shoes poking out from under the bed,sneaking clothes from the almirah,toffee wrappers glistening here and there,crumpled blankets with hidden treasures inside…

Half eaten morsels of food staring from plates,……uniforms piled one upon the other,school bags lying disowned…..

The room boomeranged with punctuation marks….She thought,”Where should I start from?”

She picked up the books first and arranged them in the cupboard,next were the school bags.

She felt she would faint,but kept on going……….She picked up the pile of clothes….

Oh! my goodness ,the uniform was torn and further the thread got twisted in her ring.

She was in a rage…………..she took off her ring and banged it on a table beside.

and continued with her work.It as not until late in the evening,she realized tha the ring was missing….

The ring had decorated her finger for years.It had been there on her ring finger,since her teenage days,a symbol of her profound love for her dearest lord “Lord Vishnu”.Even the diamond ring that symbolized her marriage did not have ample significance  to replace that circular faith,which had incredibly sailed her through tough times in her life……..and it was nowhere to be found………….

Frantically she searched for her lord,who she concluded was upset with her and that’s why was playing hide and seek in a mute argument with her………..

A hundred times she apologized to him,bowed at his lotus feet….but her lord was adamant,she could not find him……

Night set in,stars twinkled in the sky and she was restless,she knew her lord was annoyed,she had vented out her anger on him,misplacing that ring which she had refused to take out even at the hospital bed,when she was diagnosed with typhoid …………

Night saw her burning the midnight oil.Her eye refused for a nap,her heart longed for her lord……….

She did not realize when she went into deep slumber……..She woke up to the usual shrill of the alarm clock at 5:30 in the morning….

She staggered towards…….the kitchen when she stepped on something……..

As she grappled in the dark and switched on the light…….there on the floor lay her Lord………

An accustomed feeling of contentment embraced as she wore that……………..

The mute argument…….

the silent disagreement……

The slow descend…..

the luminous light of

your invigorating presence…..

devoid of your….

love inherent….

everything emerged….

as a deterrent….

my moments…..

triggered descent…

The mute agrument……

The silent disagreement…

…The faith reverent….

the tiff did cement…..

A Leaf from my life……………….

The fortune teller,sat brooding over the placement of Rahu and ketu,I could see the spiral scribblings in Malayalam on a paper,but decided to let them be illegible……my eyes galloped over them as in a sprint race,the fear had invaded unfathomable proportions of my life……… This fear started the day…..when my fingers were forced to form words that expressed my inability to continue my services with the largest private sector bank.
I still remember the eighth day of the fifth month of the year,grasped in the tweezer grip of summer,burning like hearth…when I stealthily walked towards my branch to handover the ten lines that dictated the life of a recluse for me….……..
The answer to my innumerable questions lay in the escapades of these planets?Have they reigned in my life? I thought? They must have that is why I was here to learn from a stranger,the reason behind leaving my job…..
Two years had passed since I opened any account ,made drafts, cancelled payorders, played with tufts of currency.I loved my job,I l loved to slog it out there.I loved the FDRs, I loved the smell of new currency.the clatter of the money counting machines,the jingle of coins, I loved depreciation accounts, balance sheets,the opening of lockers ,the feel of cheques ……………loved everything about the job I was in .My work was my identity, the realization that I was recognized,…………………it was my most favourable companion…..
The two years I spent tending to household and to my children….. I lost myself somewhere,I became subdued,the voice inside went into hibernation,an extrovert and vibrant girl was quashed…..instead a new woman whose routine ventures grilled her in the four walls of the house,whose whimper died down in the bubbling rice…….came into life…..
I used to have that disheveled look every day,my conscience crouched,disoriented I went on from one chore to another,unable to comprehend where my life was heading towards,when the incoherency faded sometimes…..tears would trickle down drenching my clothes……the little solace came by way of the movement of those little hands and legs…….those angelic eyes and the honey coated call that rang in my ears “mamma……..”
The sole reason that made me feel that all that conspired was worthwhile…………………….
So there was I sitting expectingly before a fortuneteller……….questioning myself.Does he have the answers to my queries or I am the one who has masqueraded herself to be a perfect puppet,capable of
any acrobatics to be performed as commanded.

I investigated and concluded…….the conviction was done…..it was me……
He raised his eyes and asked,do you write?Oh!!! I was caught unawares.I said “I do.”
Stop that he said,”Otherwise bury your dreams of being a working woman.”Your scribblings turn away the job that come your way.”
My conscience was the interrogator….Life became a jigsaw puzzle…
Words had a way with me……they played hopscotch in my mind even while I picked up tossed clothes or dusted the window sill….They were a part of me,to separate them with me were to take the soul out of the body.
Further I sank………………….
I dread that phase of my life………….when I almost lost myself……and then it took 365 more days to convince myself and immense courage and the affection of the angel in my life……..the woman whom I call “amma” to drag me back to life….
I owe two lives to her……..

Those lingering thoughts
In they tiptoed and I fought
Messing up this sparing lane of mine
Groping with enlightened thoughts divine
Far in the dead night
In to the hollows of the creeping fright
They stalked……….
And I fled…………….,
Crippled and squeezed……..
I twisted and crawled………
Pushed and gathered………….
A handful of me…………
And then I grew……
Sprouting in sunlight milieu……
Folding in out…………
Crumpled and erect………
From docile to deft
Its me as I shouted aloud…………….
To enliven my life bereft…….
Spring did set in……….
As it flew and came……..
Another monster……..it said
You have tamed………..
Those lingering thoughts…….
Zigzaged their way
…..with my bliss
An irrefutable play
Drenched as I sighed………
Life must have giggled at my plight……….
But the spring never gave in
It cuddled me in its
Effervescent grin
Borrowed wings……
To fly and win
Craddled and rocked…..
with her tender strings
those lingering thoughts……
still tiptoe and throng
a brute from a minion……
still……..a tussle…..
to assign it to oblivion…….

Written for Project 365 at We Post Daily.Today’s prompt was
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A human angel….

Rashi rushed towards the public transport bus,which was the only commutation available for her to reach her campus.Her typhoid had camouflaged the major part of her academic year,as she stood mute to the impairment conferred upon her by the disease and today was the last date to collect the admit card for her postgraduate exams.Feebly she climbed up the bus, to scuffle two hours,necessary to reach her destination.A nauseating feeling engulfed her as she got down.Typhoid didn’t let her body assimilate the meager morsels she had in the morning.She puked and was almost about to faint when a middle aged woman almost took her in her arms,made her sit on the bench beside and sprinkled water on her.She arranged a rickshaw for her to reach the campus.
“Oh my goodness!” sighed Rashi,at the ten people who stood in the queue, before her to collect the admit card ,as her body refused to be in tandem and struggled to gather herself to walk towards the window to request for her admit card.And as she felt as if angels stood guard for her that day as a familiar face with that angelic smile asked her subordinate to handover the admit card.

Write tribe festival
Write tribe festival