Tuesday, August 30, 2016

ABCW: He & Her - Five Tiny Stories

He and Her - Five Tiny Stories

Story 1

He suddenly held her hand on a cold evening, Her heart skipped a beat. He does love him she thought
"Phew, this roads are slippery" he said and left her hand.

Story 2

He kissed her cheek for the last time. Her eyes looked at the ocean and said "I know how you feel when you are with your skies and still not with it"

Story 3

He was missing home real bad, That they he realized that home could be a person too, That day his home became her.

Story 4

He was tying her up. He had a knife on her throat. She had a smile on her lips because she knew killing her might make him happy and that is what mattered to her

Story 5

He loved her, She loved the other guy, the other guy loved another girl, the another girl loved him. Life is never fair

This post is written for ABC Wednesday - H

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

#DAshTalks: The Fan

One of the late nights in this long weekend, Awin was sitting on the bed resting his back on the bed board with his Kindle and I was on the desk going something.

Awin: Dee, Can you switch on the fan

Me: Its near you

Awin: C'mon, its closer to you and I am sitting comfortably on the bed

*I jump out of the desk, land on the bed and slides right inside my blanket*

Me: I am lying snuggled inside my blanket, Switch on the fan

Awin *mumbles something inaudible*

Me *slowly creeps out of the bed and props on the desk before he has turned his back to the bed*

What he said after that is *beep beep beep beep*

Friday, August 5, 2016

BarAThon: Tiny Shoes

Day 5 of the #BarAThon

Ramu a small poor farmer lived on a lonely farm with his wife, and there were many many pixies and other fairies all around.
One morning in while Ramu went to the shed to feed his cows, he saw that the cows had been milked and fed, the chicken coop was cleaned, the farm was tilled.

He wondered who had done it, maybe it was his wife or the men who worked with him. When the laborers came to work he questioned them, but none of them knew anything about it.
The next night the same thing happened; no one went near the shed, but in the morning all the work was done.

The third night the Ramu made up his mind to find out who it was that was helping him, so he hid himself behind some hay, and lay there watching. The moon shone in and the shed was lit beautifully, but for a long time the Ramu heard and saw nothing.
Then suddenly he heard a sound of footsteps approching, and there was a little fairy carrying a heap of hay for the cow in his tiny hands. The little man was not a foot high. He was as pink as a cotton candy and had scarce a rag of clothes upon him. The little fairy didn’t even have shoes and his feet were all worn out.
He worked so hard that the sweat poured down his forehead, and now and then he stopped to wipe it away. Then he say in a sing-song voice "I sweat, I sweat, I sweat, I sweat"

Ramu was filled with admiration and gratitude, and the third time the little man cried I sweat!” Ramu could hold his tongue no longer, but answered him, “That you do!”
No sooner had he spoke, the little fairy vanished in thin air.
PC: pintrest
The farmer waited for a while, but the little fairy man did not return. At last Ramu, went back home and told his wife what he say “You stupid!” she said, when he had made an end of the story. “You should never have spoken to him. The small folk cannot bear to be spoken to!”

Well, the damage was done, and now the only thing to do was to think of some way to coax the fairy back.
Early the next morning the Ramu’s wife suggested over breakfast
 “did you say the fairy doesn’t have good clothes and shoes?”
 Why not I will make a little suit of clothes for him, and tiny shoes too. We can keep it in the shed for him.”
Ramu agreed, they made pretty clothes for him and that night the fairy & Ramu became friends for life.
Now, every month Ramu gives the fairy new clothes and candies while in return the happy fairy does the work in the farm for Ramu.

PS: Why does this story sound something like a book that I used to read as a kid???

Thursday, August 4, 2016

BarAThon: Caught Red Handed

Day 4 of the #BarAThon

Mike had an affair with his wife's best friend Claire. One evening, Mike took Claire to a garden for a good time. Incidentally, that garden was right next to Mike's 4 year old son's school. Mike's son - Joel saw them go into the garden and was super excited to tell his mother all about it.

Joel "Mom Mom..I saw Dad going into the garden with Aunt Claire and they...."

The furious mother cut his sentence there itself.

Mom "Joel, fine, you can say all of these when your father comes home"

After 2 hours, Mike comes home to see his wife sitting with her hands folded to her chest and her son sitting on the floor with his Lego blocks.

Mom "Joel, tell daddy what you saw today exactly what you told me"

Joel "I saw....I saw Dad going into the garden with Aunt Claire and they did exactly the same thing that you mom do with Uncle Bill"

"Never stop kids from expressing what they want to, Let them complete"

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

BarAThon: Fragile Lives

Day 3 of the #BarAThon Challenge

He was lying there alone, not knowing where he is. He is still dazed and confused as to what is going on around him. Nothing is really making any sense, the weird smell, so many of unfamiliar faces. Where was he?

His last memory was of him on a bike with his friend on the highway. Why were they on a bike? He wondered. Yes! It's Nishant's birthday. We were going to wish him. We were going fast on Sumer's new 1000cc sports bike

He was slowly trying to open his eyes to the bright light. He saw green curtain drawn near him, he smelt this peculiar hospital smell, he saw people moving swiftly. All seems to be very weird, that's when he hears a woman's voice. He strains his eyes to see to whom is she addressing to, she is talking to Amit, his elder brother. Amit looks so worried. Why?

He starts panicking on what he hears next..He hears the woman say "Your brother? has been calling for you ever since..By the way..his hand..its gone"

These words make him go hysterical. He starts panicking. He goes breathless. He starts screaming,. Hot tears are stung to his eyes. Nothing seems real anymore. He does not remember anything. What accident? Where is he? Who got him here? What happened?

He tries hard to look at his hand..but is not able to see anything. He looks harder and sees his hand wrapped up in something. His shirt is smeared with blood. His pants are torn.He feels no pain..He is not able to cry. He closes his eyes and wishes for a small ray of hope.

Just then the green curtain moves and he sees his friend with whom he was on the bike lying next to him with a sorry look in his eyes.
He hears Amit standing next to him and saying that he had met with an accident. Those few moments felt like a lifetime.
That's when he gave a loud wail.A wail of despair. A wail of helplessness. A wail of losing something very precious.

Two doctors appear from behind the curtains and unwrap his bloodied bandage and say with a faint smile "the hand is badly injured but it can be operated. don't worry"
Hearing these words made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. These words made him want to believe. He wanted to cling this little hope.
This was that moment, when he saw life. This was the moment, when he felt God
One moment of death
        One moment of life
                One moment of smile
                        One moment of tear
                One moment of hope
        One moment of destiny
One moment of Forever

"Life is fragile, Not everyone gets a second chance. Drive safe"

Monday, August 1, 2016


I may not miss Mumbai. I may like this city more than Mumbai in certain aspects. But, whichever part of the country I go, I take a bit of Mumbai with me.

Mumbai runs in my veins, its in my blood. There might be rush crowds, there are long travels in crowded trains, the real estate market might be the highest in this country, but there is so much warmth in the people. Those tired smiles in the trains, the trusting hawkers, the negotiating women, the corner vegetable vendor, make this city special.

There are floods, there are blasts, but the city's spirit comes alive when everyone is helping each other. The city's life is seen when people go to work immediately the next day after a blast. That is Mumbai

Not many shop "organic" vegetables, a bisleri water can at home is unheard of, but vada pav, pav bhaji, pani puri, bhel puri, sandwich, dabeli, gola, pom-pom idli are just familiar sounds.

Every festival celebrated so beautifully, the Ganpati dance, the dandiya raas, the kebabs and sheer khurmas, with a dash of Mumbai cannot be replicated anywhere in the world

My eyes light up when I hear "Mumbai" in movies or videos or articles. My ears are all alert when I listen to news about "Mumbai".

PC: makemytrip
I live a life that is way better than I was in Mumbai, but every now and then I get nostalgic. I may have planned to settle and live the next many years of my life in this city, but Mumbai will always be "my city". I may someday have kids in this city, but I will try to inculcate the "Mumbai" values in them.

If you love Mumbai city, this city loves you back. If you hate the crowds and fast pace, the city gives it back in return.

We Mumbaikars, we leave the city but its always "Mumbai meri jaan".
Because, Mumbai is not a city, Mumbai is dreams, Mumbai is heart, Mumbai is LIFE *chest fist*

PS: I get nostalgic once in a while