Flame #writephoto

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Late afternoons often found her sitting alone, still and straight. Her mind would travel years back in time, when the house was full of children’s laughs and echoing footfalls. In a flash, hours and days had molded into long years of cooking dinners, attending PTA meetings and finishing yet another load of laundry.

Now the house sat quiet, reminiscing of a din long gone. The children had moved out and her husband was indulging yet another hobby. One evening, a sliver of sunshine happened to escape the curtain’s stern guard. Through the dance of dust mites, she happened upon her reflection. Her eyes and her face told stories of the years gone by and the errands they had seen through.

There were no stories of her own. There was not even a hint of the flame that once shone bright in her eyes; it was extinguished long ago.

A muted glint from a hidden corner caught her attention – somehow her old ghungru* had managed to dapple in the last light of the setting sun. It had been so long she had seen them – she had almost forgotten how they felt tied at her ankles. With trembling fingers she handled them delicately, more precious than any gem in the world.

What if….? Dare she even dream…?

The next afternoon saw her tentatively clearing a space and dusting out her old dancing clothes. As her feet slowly became accustomed to the once-familiar weight of her ghungru, the years melted away and she fell into a rhythm that was as natural as breathing. On days when she was not at dance school, the curtains were firmly drawn back as she conducted personal concerts under the sunny spotlight.

She was not a daughter, a wife or a mother then. She was a dancer. She was an artist. She was her chosen form. She was blowing at the cool embers, re-kindling a fire that had almost blown out. It was never too late to spark it back!


Written for Sue’s prompt – Flame. I took it as a metaphor and ran away with it! Hope that is okay…

*Ghungru: is one of many small metallic bells strung together to form Ghungrus, a musical anklet tied to the feet of classical Indian dancers.

flame

Low Tide

low-tide

You work for it. You sweat for it.

Shoot a dozen wishes to make it happen…

Yet it keeps getting out of your reach.

You chase it to a point and almost give up in exhaustion

Maybe you pause and breathe.

Take in the beauty of the low tides,

Of how the sun and its shine is a lot closer to you.

As you take in the warmth, you feel the softest touch of the waves

Swirling designs around you in the sands

The tide has turned… When it was the time.

It is coming in your arms,

All at the right time,

When you were finally ready…


Written for Thursday Photo Prompt  at Sue’s.

Talk to the Mirror

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Almost there!

I don’t remember the last time I really looked at my reflection in the mirror – not even on my wedding day. Typically I spend a few minutes required each morning to ensure that I pass off as a reasonable human specimen at work. Otherwise, I simply avoid looking at myself and examining what or who is really looking back at me.

It has been a whirlwind few months for me… Physically, I have taken some time off to rejuvenate. Mentally? It’s a blank slate. It was a riot outside of me while inside there resided a long silence. It is still quiet – I do have thoughts that flicker like a match – aflame and powerful for a moment then quickly burning out into smoke and ash *my drafts folder nods enthusiastically*

It feels like I was living in a dream while dreams feel like reality! My life gets a … life… at night as I am dreaming away to Pluto; I feel more alive then instead of the waking hours as a clockwork human where I am just checking off my present and losing the sense of time. Looking into the mirror and trying to talk to myself was difficult as we were both working on different surreal platforms. What if I don’t recognize the person in the mirror? Or what if we get into a fight? They are both me right?

I know there is no permanence to this phase of feeling “out of it” as I am already getting back in it! It’s just a slow evolution which is work in progress – that should explain the limbo stage of life.

Every day I tell myself – tomorrow I will look at myself really hard in the mirror and stay longer than the time taken to apply my eye-liner. I want to talk it out – bring closure to our incomplete conversations.

Til then, I will just sleep it out – that works, right?


How do you talk to yourself, if you do? Written for JustJoJan – today’s prompt was “Incomplete” as given by Cyn of That Cynking Feeling. 

Glass: Handle with Care

I am thinking of a delicate piece of glass – intrinsic and complex in its design; absolutely beautiful with the rainbow of colours glowing under the sliver of sunlight. I would be so scared to get close and touch it initially. I would want to admire it from a distance. Perhaps… I can reach a point where the glass is so inviting that I muster the courage to take a closer look and even begin holding it.

From trembling fears to a confident grasp, I become more comfortable in picking it up and carrying it with me. I might even try to guard it from prying fingers and jealous eyes before I calm down and let it be free, clean and safe in its own zone.

I don’t want to risk becoming too callous with it though. While I may have overcome my initial apprehension of handling it, I don’t want to get carried away and juggle it with other delicate items on the mantelpiece… Lest it crash and break into a thousand glittering pieces just because I was too careless and neglected to pay close attention. I want to preserve and respect its unique beauty and worth. That way, the glass lasts forever with me without losing its sheen and significance.

And then I look at what I have scribbled above and replace the “glass” with “relationships”… it kind of tells me the same thing about how I should handle them. If only I did well to remember this … the world will be a great place to live!


Written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday and Just Jo January hosted by Linda. Check out her blog for a revolving round of fun and insights and happiness.

Major Thanks – 1000+ Follows

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I started this blog 2.5 years back in the wee hours of the night, when I was going through one of my many “What am I doing with my life?” rant. In the middle of my existential crisis, this blog was born and over a period of time it transformed from acquaintance to therapist to finally becoming a friend. When I am writing, I write like I would talk to my best friend and it is never an effort.

Writing was never an effort. Blogging was a different game. Blogging introduced different minds and communities who are ever willing to teach, provided you take the time and effort to learn. That really tested me and so often I thought, let me take a break from blogging.

But… you don’t take a break from friends, do you? Maybe you meet less often and more selectively – but when you get together, it feels like no time has passed. You pick up where you left off. So yeah! I stumbled and raced through 161 blog posts and here I am…

…. I have crossed 1000 followers. This was something I never imagined would happen to my little blog. But it did.

So biggest and humblest thanks to all of you! This blog becomes a person with 6 senses because of you. Thank you for giving this place such a colourful life 🙂