Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Friday, August 31, 2012

3 words of "Hope"

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about night - never lasts forever."

Linking up with Trifextra : Week Thrity-One

Sum up anything you want, but do it in three words.  Your response should mirror Frost's quote by beginning, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about--."  And the last four words are yours to choose. 


Monday, August 27, 2012

Routes blocked!!!


“Roads blocked!”
“WHAT????”
And then they all started laughing.
I closed my eyes and breathed. And in my mind, I undid all the planning those two words had triggered.
They find it fun, telling me such things.
They trick me every evening.
And like every time, their trick works.
But then my fears are not totally misplaced.
Why, the other day, the route had broken down at three places. And it had taken 7 hours to get a green signal. And then, one day, I had reached the office late – having braved a caving road and a minor transshipment.
But this last Saturday, topped them all.
The route was slippery through and through.
The Beas roared, fumed and swelled.
The clouds thundered and the lightning crackled almost all day long. A mighty tree broke down. And with it came down, many temporary shops that had nestled under it in good times.
The stretch across Thalout looked beautiful but intimidating with the water about to rise up to the road and the Rainsh Nala imitating a smaller version of the Niagara Falls.
The black mounds of rocks, now, mere rubble, greeted us at every corner near Hanogi Mata Nyaas.
The Jogani Mata stretch was crossed under heavy torrents of water dripping from mountains looming over the road. People crowded the temple, their eyes locked on the cracks, watchful and warning of the final collapse. The muddy debris was sliding down, fast, furious.
Between Pandoh and Dayod, the PWD and JCB people were working hard, to keep the debris off the road. Salute to their spirit.
Sambhal was the nightmare. Two monstrous rocks had fallen and the route had been blocked off completely. JCB’s had failed. And drilling machines were already sweating.
And, here my writing fails me.
All I remember is a rock pierced our car from one side, muddy debris hurled towards us from the other side and ardent, loud prayers filled the air around me.
I later heard they blasted the dinosaur.

Linking up with Trifecta: Week Forty

Friday, August 24, 2012

They call it sibling love!


Been fighting again!
This time, she would complain.
To Nana.
Pocket-money? Goodbye!
He would still buy her a grilled corn.
She would have to squirrel away hers. Treat him with a kite later.

Linking with Trifextra : Week Thirty - This weekend we want you to write a 33-word responseusing the name of an animal as a verb.
This challenge was a great learning for me and my family. I enjoyed familiarizing myself with the seemingly new usage. I am posting primarily for the fun of putting this learning to use. I hope you all enjoy reading this short scene too. I tried to create a brother-sister relation here. Fingers totally crossed!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

A dream


The night was black and dark. With a stillness in the air. That reins in the ones with a faint heart. No matter how dark the night, she thought, the sun will shine through and the shadows will be left behind. She kept repeating these words to herself. She did not have the courage to look back. Only to trudge forward and onward. She had been trying to sell one of her handmade scarves to that rich couple. She had seen the last bus leave without her from over the lady’s shoulder. And she had seen the couple walk away without buying the scarf. It was so dark that once or twice she did stumble, but each time she got up and walked more cautiously. The cold did not bother her. One she had reached the familiar territory of her village, she relaxed. Theirs was a tiny hut with room enough for all of them. And the door looked like it would come off the hinges anytime. Yet her mother kept it locked. She wondered why. May be out of habit – why on earth would somebody want to steal our rags? She ate her dinner while her mother filled her with news from the family, the village and everywhere else. Then she switched off the lantern and with that the reality. Tonight she would dream of being that rich lady, the one with fox fur stole who had enough money to buy all her scarves but had walked away without buying one. Yes, she too would walk away revelling thoroughly in luxury. Even if for that one night alone. She too would bask in glory of riches. Would she be wearing satins or silk? She settled on silk and smiled in her sleep. Thankfully, it did not cost to dream.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

An end to a tale


Her green eyes totally locked into his grey, words were suddenly not needed. Words were still spoken, were attended to.
Then, a faint whisper, What now?
The dawn was just breaking.
Life begins!

Linking up with Trifextra : Week Twenty-Nine

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Home they brought


They fought over what later seemed trivia.
And they never made up after the fight.
And when they summoned him to the front line.
He fought with her on mind.
He had hoped to apologize,
The moment he jumped off the flight
Even though he was not in the wrong
Saying sorry would not hurt, right?
She waited for him to come,
He was all over her heart and mind.
She knew she had been wrong.
She was waiting to set it right.
Yes, she would say sorry,
The moment he jumped off the flight.
Wish somebody had told them
That fighting on frontline came with a price.
Home they brought – her warrior dead.
Home he came - basking in valour bright.

Friday, August 10, 2012

A phone, a friend


She settles into a seat
And sends out a text:
“Will be reaching soon.”
A ringing sound,
A name flashes:
Her solitude cut short.
Finally, she reaches home:
Melody playing in her ears.

Linking with Trifextra : Week Twenty-Eight
33 words - 1 object - three uses

The Phoenix


The lumber logs went spiraling in the torrents of water; their might broken by a mere cloud. A mere cloud! But this time it had struck with full vengeance - hard and strong. And the gush of water did not spare anything and anyone, be it a twig or a tile. It washed away everything. Clean! Clear! All that remained was a very alive and swollen Angus roaring and rising by the minute, broken trees, rocks and bits and pieces of what was a small lumber factory a few hours ago. Thus, Adler came home to the remains and ruins, was welcomed by pleading eyes of his wife and wails of a hungry child.  His arms hung by his side, limp and lifeless. His knees buckled, he sagged helplessly on the floor.
The words of his wife brought him out of his stupor. What will we do now? What would he do now? How would he feed his family? The answer hung somewhere in the moist air but did not reach his lips. He stared at her. And in her tear stained eyes he saw the vows he had taken for protecting his family – keeping them safe. And there he found his answer.
The night passed. With the first rays of sunshine, he was back in woods, gathering the finest quality lumber which he sold by the evening. While men cried, he toiled. While men begged, he shed his sweat. His family will not starve. Never again! As men looked, Adler rose again.
In the mahogany furnished office of The Wonder Woods Empire, an old ageing man stood by the window, admiring his own imperial handicraft. The men were busy stacking the best quality logs, working to the rhythm of flowing waters of Angus.
Grandpa Adler, there’s been a cloud burst in Shelley. Two big shops caved in.”
The phoenix did not flinch at the news. His gaze was still fixed at Angus, as if the scenes from his favorite movie were being played on the milky water.
Only these were not the usual, pleasant, picture perfect ones.
Adler turned and faced his grandson. “I pray their hopes did not”.

Linking up with Write on Edge

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Flight!


Adney was not looking forward to her journey. There was no fun in travelling by air. All it did was save time. But one had to endure the boring faces buried in laptops and tablets.
She could survive that much. Hopefully!
She saw hands feverishly typing on keyboards and took the hint burying herself in the worn out edition of Doctors.
The world around her blurred and fell into oblivion.
Until that moment.
It was the thought of his presence that broke her reverie. She looked up in time to find him making his way through the aisle, his gait nonchalant, his bearing casual. Adney, however, knew better.
She wondered if his presence on that flight was a coincidence.
Her mind echoed yes. Her heart whispered no. She did not side by either. For that moment at least.
Instead she tried to busy herself in her book. But being acutely conscious of his presence as she was, the words from the book made little sense.
It was a week ago that she had walked out of her heaven with Jake. She had thought of herself as a misfit in his perfect world. And she had hoped for things to fall back to normal. For both of them.
They had not. Neither for Jake, as it appeared; nor for her.
So, she finally let her heart win the battle. And with it, she sealed her fate. Forever.
Jake could surely do well with some of her flaws. After all, was not too much perfection an imperfection in itself?
---
Adney kept sitting as did Jake. The people around them were busy getting their handbags, switching on the mobiles, disembarking.
It was only when the two of them remained, did Jake look back.
“We don’t want to keep the crew waiting forever, do we?”
Adney shook her head through smiles and tears.
---
They had walked in separately but they walked out hand in hand.

Linking up with Trifecta : Week Thirty-Seven

Friday, August 3, 2012

A Fable


The moth hovered,
The flame flickered,
Closer by and by,
Dancing in rhythm,
And then I know not,
If the flames leapt up
Or the moth bent down,
To share their final kiss!

Linking up with Trifextra : Week Twenty-Seven - A 33 word Fable
Linking with Write on Edge

100 steps of doubt


Medini took hurried steps.
She passed a little girl with two braids, hands on her hips, red with anger and a young little boy, holding on to her pleated skirt. The little girl slapped a blurred face “That’s for hitting my brother”. The girl then walked away holding hands with her brother. Soon the milling crowd enveloped her.
Soon their roles will be reversed.
Why and how, Medini was not sure.
And this was no time to be thinking.
She was some 100 steps away from posting the Rakhi, the sacred vows of protection.
She sprinted.