Wafting Words

Raw

2011-03-17T19:40:00.002+05:30

Volcanic words pouring out
over and again
The spite and the hatred,
smoking thoughts
bursting
wounds open,
like petals in slow motion

Prompt from Sunday Scribblings: Raw

Blah.

2011-03-16T23:41:00.001+05:30

Life hasn't been easy.
I guess it is no earth shattering, breaking news headline but, boredom can make life more difficult than real problems.
Meaning to get back to writing - something, anything. And ended up with nothing.

A Short Love Story

2011-02-08T11:37:00.000+05:30

Indeed.
He said he would find a better woman – in looks, in intelligence and in personality.
She didn’t want to believe him. She thought he would come back.
He found one.
He never came back.

Birth

2010-06-23T01:13:00.003+05:30

Funny how
a wailing mouth -
pink and puckered,
plays music.
A lilac dawn and
a curving smile
peep together

Prompt from Sunday Scribblings: Birth

the book that changed everything

2010-03-22T15:26:00.006+05:30

A much delayed take on one of the most interesting prompts of Sunday Scribblings. Nonetheless, I decided to write.

'A book that changed everything' - sounds quite dramatic, that paints a picture of how one's life changed for the better or for worse because of the mysterious content inside. If you ask me, I am not sure. I am not sure if there has been any book that brought a profound change in me, my throught process, the way I look at the world, the way I perceive people, relationships, in short, everything. I would be glad if I could read such a book, that can bring about such a change.
But I did find a book that changed the way I looked at serious Indian writing. I cannot really claim I have enough knowledge to speak or anlayze the whole genre of Indian writing but there was this author who I respect immensely for his brilliant writing, razor sharp wit and clear observations and reading his book changed my perspective about how authors could be unique in this world of popular fiction, especially with the West going wild over 'exoticism' of India and its culture.

Books from Upamanyu Chatterjee have been my all time favourite ever since I read them. I cannot clearly pinpoint a single book that I can quote as my 'favorite' but my first exposure to such classy, wonderful writing started with 'The Mammaries of the Welfare State'. Even today I can not help but wonder at his ability to write such an amazing prose.
I particularly like 'The Last Burden'. The author leaves us spellbound by the way he analyzes the relationships; seemingly close ones and yet so distant. He is a master in story telling. But that doesn't do justice to his brilliance if one ignores the insights he brings forth in his books.

Prompt from Sunday Scribblings: 'The book that changed everything'

The First One

2009-10-05T17:00:00.002+05:30

Our first kiss was as spectacular as it was in my dream. It only made me realize that we were just waiting to happen to each other.

That evening when we were done with dinner, you had offered to drop me home. I refused. I didn’t want to go back with you; I didn’t want questions about who I came back with. I wanted to keep you a complete secret. A secret that only I knew of and enjoyed. But you insisted anyway. We came back in your car. You took the longer, lonelier route. I was excited as hell, but I didn’t say a word. My heart was thumping as though it was pumping blood to the entire city. We were talking really inconsequential things but I remember I didn’t take in a single word. All I heard was the music in your deep voice. The bass that sent tingles down my spine every time I heard it.

You stopped the car in between. It was a starry night. Or, I’d like to think so. We got out of the car and walked towards the edge of the road. We stood there for a while. I was waiting for you to say something, but you were very, very quiet. You turned towards me and asked me if I liked strawberries. Although I had no clue why you were talking about them, I thought for a second and nodded a yes. You walked towards me as I watched; every muscle in my body was frozen except my fingers – strangely they seemed to have a life of their own, shaking away. I remember how you moved. You were deliberately slow. You stood centimetres away from me and looked at me for what seemed like an eon. I couldn’t avert my gaze; your eyes held mine all the time. Like a practised lover, you wrapped your arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I was sure you could hear my heartbeats. Your hands caressed my hair with such tenderness! There was magic in your fingers that made my heart go wild.

As your face bent towards mine, I remember thinking of strawberries. Your lips were soft, persuasive yet authoritative. I was a mere pupil. I could feel the jolt hitting me, spreading a lovely sensation inside me. If you weren’t holding me, I would have collapsed. We kissed for a long time, slowly at first, but the warmth made us desperate. Each short ones gave way to longer and lingering bliss. I was afraid to stop and so were you. It was as if we were seeing each other for the last time.

If it wasn’t for the headlights at the bend of the road we would have stayed enveloped in each other’s arms and lips, all night.

Prompt for Sunday Scribblings

Taste of the past

2009-07-15T15:06:00.002+05:30

As I look out to the
rain -drenched balcony,
the perfume of the
sated earth comes
Wafting to me.
Sweet.
Like a rolling stone that
doesn’t stop,
the heart gallops
into a tunnel of the past;
memories not bargained,
tumbling out so fast.
Bitter.
But then I realize they
are more a shadow and
less a picture,
I smile.
Bitter-sweet.

Audacity

2009-05-22T14:53:00.000+05:30

The muddy baggage
of past sins
bundled with your
recklessness...
And you ask me
why do I worry?

Sunday scribblings prompt: Worry

Scarred but not dead

2009-05-14T11:35:00.006+05:30

Last week's prompt in SS was 'Healing'.

A very good prompt; one could do wonders writing eloquent poetry or beautiful prose depending on one's mood. But, I could not lift a finger. Even now, I am unable to say anything substantial. Not that every time I say something it means anything.

Ever since I tried writing a longer version of 'little ideas-turning into-short stories', I feel I reversed my writing ability by ten light years. I lost my connection to a story, my feelings that guide me during a construction of the prose, and my general confidence with words. I realize I am not ready for (I wince as I write this) writing a novel. How ambitious it all looks now. How foolish I was to think I could do it. Just because I thought I was decent with short stories. I salute to all those writers who kept saying novel writing is not a game. I bow in defeat.

But I have a feeling it has more to do with critiques than anything else; I should have known that I am not yet ready for serious critiquing from writers who are already proficient in their craft. Of course these online-help groups mean well and probably/hopefully I will go back to them, asking for their guidance again in distant future. But right now, I am shit-scared. I feel completely lost when each and every word of my writing gets torn to bits; five different opinions on the sentence construction, the opening lines, the right hook and yada yada... They have left me thoroughly confused and frightened.

I need to back off from all that; I need to heal.
Only then will I be able to resume my writing. No matter what people say about feedback, I am not ready, yet.

Forgiven

2009-05-04T17:44:00.004+05:30

I saw them – those three
little wimps.
swirling in my head,
refusing to move
whining over and over
the grating sound of
apology.
They limped through
the lips,
their arms on their hips.
Feeling wretched,
looking crooked, they
floated slowly in the air:

I am sorry.

Your slanting smile,
a lone sunray in the balcony.
And, my soul was free.

Sunday scribblings: Prompt - Confession

The annoying thing

2009-04-30T12:49:00.003+05:30

Silence is golden. Silence may save lives but silence also kills.
I don't understand why would anybody want to be silent the one time they should be talking.
Loved ones are in this world for a reason - not just to share joys. Worries are part of the repertoire too.
If we don't share our sorrows, apprehensions just like the way we do with happiness, achievements, then what is the point of being together?

Follow

2009-04-28T13:56:00.001+05:30

The decision to follow her was purely an impulsive one. My aim was to find out who she was meeting tonight. This was going on for three weeks and I had begun to suspect I was right. Long sessions of music class, work at the office, staying over with a friend – excuses galore. Tonight would be the make-or-break night for us.
As she turned towards white building, I could not believe my eyes. How could it be? I felt a tremendous sense of deflation. Holy Trinity Hospital? That’s where my mother lay comatose for the last five months.

Sunday Scribblings prompt: Follow

Sunset

2009-04-15T10:23:00.000+05:30

Every time I see
you going down,
I dread the
return of
another
meaningless dawn.

Gossip

2009-04-14T10:00:00.000+05:30

The clandestine
whisper
meandered
into my ear...
Your eyes that shone
and your laughter
when on the phone,
has acquired a
new meaning
altogether.

The future

2009-04-13T16:04:00.000+05:30

Recession – the probability of losing job. The possibility of our savings running out. The probability of us having to shift with our parents. The possibility of them not able to manage it. The horror of an uncertain future.
This is what scares me.

But the scariest of all – the probability of us losing hope in our future and the faith in each other.

Sunday Scribblings prompt: What scares you?

Waiting

2009-04-10T20:11:00.001+05:30

Threads of gold
melt into
twilight, leaving
the evening
useless and open.

Whiling away

2009-04-09T20:08:00.000+05:30

Boredom weaves
an even pattern in
the stifling noon,
turning it to a
discarded tapestry.

Life's lists

2009-04-08T14:08:00.001+05:30

The three things that have become an integral part of my leisurely activities at home are reading, standing in the balcony and sipping coffee while contemplating about million things, and waiting.

I won’t call myself a voracious reader, for I have seen ‘genuine’ voracious readers. But, I make it a point to read something or the other, daily. The beauty of today’s technology is that I can read online, offline and hard copies. Blogs, online articles, electronic newspapers – I have so many options. I read anything from fiction, non-fiction, poetry, news, to academic articles, junk, movie reviews, and gossip. I don’t like to read much of news though. I am not a news person at all. I hate the itch to update. It is quite detrimental to my ambition of wanting to become a writer, but I really don’t see the point of reading about human stupidity displayed in myriad forms of politics, war, crime and frauds.

I love spending time in the balcony during the evenings. I would also love to do so in the mornings but that would require me to get up early, which doesn’t happen. We have a big garden facing our apartment and it’s a pleasure to see those tiny tots enjoying their evening time-out. It also gives me a chance to look around, feel good about my existence, the pleasant weather and a hot cup of coffee. The summer is still hesitant to walk into our part of the world, which is such a good idea from nature’s part.

The later part of evenings and a good deal of night goes in waiting – for the partner to turn up from the work. It has become a routine now; it just makes me sad that he is not around to enjoy the good weather and relax from the stressful work. We don’t really get time to spend together and it’s not just me alone who is missing the company. I only hope the work load goes down in future to some extent.

Head or Tails prompt: List Three

A reason to celebrate

2009-04-05T17:40:00.004+05:30

It is indeed a coincidence, a very pleasant one. Today’s prompt is ‘Celebration’ and I have a reason to celebrate.
Two of my stories got accepted by an online magazine.
I received a mail from the magazine and I felt so good about it.

It is alright to publish your stories in your own blog, but when someone deems your work good enough to be published in their domain, you feel that your effort did not go waste. Through this, I get a chance to anticipate the reactions of a wider audience. This has also given me the inspiration to go ahead and continue writing.

Get it, baby

2009-04-02T23:08:00.001+05:30

Long ago,
when we walked
on the windy shores,
You said,
the turbulent sea
is just a mirror
of the anger of Gods
above.
Don’t you see?
If my eyes are
courting emptiness,
it’s your own
lack of love?

Prompt from Heads or Tails: Sea/See

While time flew...

2009-04-01T17:53:00.002+05:30

How is it while I
struggle with my thoughts,
your memories
refuse to age?

________________

A crow’s feet
clawing into my
youth
A laugh line –
so uncouth
I try hard not to fall
to the trap of time
only to remember
there is just me
with no one to surrender.

Sunday Scribblings prompt: Aging

Unruly

2009-03-27T18:52:00.001+05:30

Circles.
Encircled.
Circuitous.
Circumspect.
Circadian.
The only thing common between these words is a restless mind that forced the hand to jot it down.

Heads or Tails prompt: Common

The Origin

2009-03-25T16:38:00.002+05:30

We walked together,
hand in hand.
I didn’t want to show but,
You wanted to know…

The abyss was still there
at the end of the road.
The full-stop to all dirty dreams,
deep desires and hesitant hopes…

You wanted it all, the ugly,
nothing-but-the-real, didn’t you?
There you go: see the pain,
hear the silence.

You take three little steps forward
and see: the emptiness,
the oily uncertainties still
floating…

The stench of loss,
the fear of unknown,
all huddled together –
a soggy baggage from the past.

You stagger back,
struggling for a hold.
The doe eyes searching,
for a rationale untold.

I mouth those wordless
truths of my existence –
This is who I am,
This is where I come from…

Sunday Scribblings prompt: 'I come from'

Untold...

2009-03-20T17:00:00.005+05:30

There came a point in life when I had to choose between love and commitment.
I was already committed to someone I didn’t love.
But along the way, I fell in love with someone else.
I was young, I was naïve.
I admit I made a mistake.
A heady mix of youth and foolishness together gave me the confidence to go ahead and choose love over commitment.
I should have chosen freedom instead.

Prompt from Heads or Tails: Point

Farewell

2009-03-19T21:16:00.002+05:30

I look into your
brown eyes, melting chocolate
buttons –
a kaleidoscope of past glories
and purple heart aches.
And I realize, for too long
I have held you dear,
now the time is near
to let go…
To be free and to learn to love,
and life, the never ending
adventure is calling…
Dear past me – here is
a loving goodbye,
My love wasn’t untrue,
But I have to learn to live too…

As usual, late on writing deadlines; here is my take on Sunday Scriblings prompt: Dear past me, dear future me.

A last ditch effort

2009-03-06T13:17:00.004+05:30

Listen up!
I won’t be an invisible,
unwilling slave anymore,
to your whims
and insecurities.
Love is a reason to be
together
But, it won’t bind me
forever.
Your heart, corrupted
by my affection,
needs to know,
This is Important.

Sunday Scribblings prompt: 'Listen up, this is important'

Premonition

2009-03-05T15:45:00.001+05:30

Those joyous mornings,
steaming coffee and kisses.
Bronze sunsets beginning
our glorious evenings...

I was puzzled why
the moon always smiled,
watching our lovesick hearts
bidding goodbyes.

I wonder often,
if, your heart misses the lost beat.
If, you foresaw
our dreams retreat.

(A bit late, in posting the prompt) for Sunday Scribblings: Lost

Cul De Sac

2009-02-16T21:54:00.003+05:30

I am the generous
one,
a jilted lover
who forgives and
forgets
all your
follies...
Not for your love,
but for my own
withering soul.

Reading prompt from The Game: The book was The Brooklyn Follies - Paul Auster. I chose the word Follies

Mute

2009-02-16T21:23:00.001+05:30

I have seen you
with them.
Doe eyes
fluttering,
smiles splattered
generously over
painted lips...
A faint wisp of perfume
A hint of romance?
You are the superstar
and I,
a forgotten audience.
I only hope
this is just a game,
and not a
sport.

Prompt from Sunday Scribblings: Sports

My Experiments

2009-02-13T21:58:00.004+05:30

Writing came naturally to me at a young age, however, I didn't write that often as one would imagine a girl with a flair for words, might. I used to pen some silly limericks, an occasional story, but I don't remember having saved them. Even when I realized I enjoyed writing, I didn't do it much. There was a small problem, which I recognized much later in life - I always felt the need to be validated, appreciated. I needed an audience.

Much later, when I started working, there came a time when I had a lot of time in my hands, the work was light and I had access to unlimited internet. I explored the world wide web and I realized how people enjoyed letting their creativity bloom in various forms - blogs, poetry and articles online. I realized I could do it too. Complete strangers who didn't have to be nice to you (well, not always) enjoying your writing and complimenting your style was a high that I very much looked forward to.

I started my own blog - I had regular visitors and I built a rapport with my readers which was quite comforting. I was growing confident with my writing and I wanted to experiment. I loved stories. As a child, I read a lot, and invented my own stories and regaled my friends and cousins with them. I decided I wanted to write stories.

I started a fiction blog. It started with flash fiction (similar to 55 words) and I immensely enjoyed them. My readership grew and they were enjoying it too. Soon I began writing short stories that were longer. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. I strived to keep my stories different, free of errors and always felt the need to improve them. But the impulsive, showy side of me, always got the better of me - the moment I finished writing a story, I wanted to share the joy, the exhilaration of creation with others and wanted to publish in my blogs. Of course, my mentor would always reprimand me - his words were the final. It was quite funny actually, although I craved for the entire world's attention, praise, it was his opinion that mattered to me the most. Even if it was not quite popular.

I reached a stage, where I began take myself a little too seriously. Reader's expectation or, rather, my assumption of what their expectations could be, started getting to me. I began doubting my writing, my ability to entertain. Instead writing for myself, for my own joy, I began writing, keeping an audience in mind. It started affecting my work.

And one fine day, I decided to shut my shop. I stopped writing on my blogs.

But writing is a disease, (I had mentioned it in my old, dead blog too) and it doesn't have a cure. After a time, I was restless, and I started these brand new blogs. This time, I decided it is going to be different. I am going to be the sole audience for whom I shall write. If other enthusiasts enjoy my writing, they are most welcome, but I shall not delude myself with unrealistic expectations. Even now, I write on my fiction blog, albeit occasionally.

But, I am happy with what I have begun. I hope this journey is going to be equally fun if not more.

Dictionary word prompt from The Game : Writing

A love story it is!

2009-02-11T23:29:00.002+05:30

It's been difficult
hasn't it?
Your clothes spread all about
my patience that wears out
In cooking,
I am always a mess
I hear you saying,
the salt's always less...
Money is the sand
that pours through the hand
One's a miser and
the other is none the wiser
All the fights
and salty tears,
rolling tissues
and unsolved issues...
Yet, if one were to ask
Will you swap, are you upto the task?
The answer would be a
No, in unison…
Cuz we like coffee and
we like tea,
we like to be together,
always,
just
You and Me.

Heads or Tails meme prompt: A Love Story

Days and Nights

2009-02-09T12:43:00.006+05:30

You know something is wrong with you life when you find your days and nights are just grey blurs, you have no recollection of what you did three days ago because three days or thirty days - there wasn't any difference between them, and they all blend into one giant, unintelligible mass of confusion and indifference.

You know something is wrong with your life when you feel the days have stretched for too long and at the same time, they end so abruptly that you have no idea where the time flew.

You know something is wrong with your life when the nights are not lovely, full of dreams that have no meaning and sometimes, scare the hell out of you and in the morning, you don't know what you can do about them.

You know something is wrong with your life when your days and nights turn into an endless dream of which you so badly want to come out of it.

You also know that wrongs can be moulded into rights - if only you want it and, want it enough.

The prompt from The Game: Days and Nights

The Mask

2009-02-07T23:21:00.003+05:30

While the world
happily found us
a success,
it was just
some moments for
the cover ups.
It was only the
art
of deceit
that kept us going,
although the world had
no way of knowing.

Sunday Scribblings prompt: Art

The Game

2009-02-04T10:38:00.003+05:30

In order ensure I dont go astray from my 2009 goal of writing and reading, I have devised a game for my own entertainment.
This game has two components - Writing on Reading and Writing on Writing. And a few rules to ensure there is no laziness creeping in.

Writing on Reading: Everytime I complete reading a book, I will pick up its title or a word from its title (if it has more than one word) and use it as a prompt for writing - be it prose or poetry.

Writing on Writing: Every week, I will find a word related to writing from the dictionary and use it as a prompt for writing.

The rules -
1. I will let myself a bit of leeway - only three times in the entire year I can afford to miss the prompt.
2. I can use a random word as a prompt in case I haven't been reading much (self defeating isn't it? but I can't help it - what's the point of setting deadlines that I cannot hope to meet?)

For this week, I will be doing a prompt triggered by the book 'The Days and Nights of Shorty Gomes'. I am picking up 'Days and Nights'.

All you wonderful writers out there, if you want to, you too can go ahead with this game.
Try it, may be you'll like it.

Too late

2009-02-03T14:43:00.003+05:30

I probably waited
too long
to take the weight
off my soul,
You were far far away by then
for me to cry foul...

Tuesday meme - Heads or Tails: # 76 Any past theme. I chose Wait OR Weight from June 08 theme list.

Burden on the Soul

2009-01-31T15:19:00.005+05:30

She looked up to see an empty sky
Lord, where did all the stars go?
Someone told her the world had a new rule
One sorrow for a Star just an hour ago...
Tears started streaming down
the brown eyes refused to hold
Where was one for her, Oh God,
Not a single spared?
For, her regret stood out bold
And she was yet to unload...

Weekly prompts from Sunday Scribblings: Regret

Change.

2009-01-15T03:00:00.002+05:30

Sometimes, one forgets the reason for exsistence.
I have not been working for almost six weeks now and I am beginning to feel the cold shadows of boredom and helplessness coming over me.
The winter has not been very helpful either. My routine has gone for a toss, I wake up in the afternoons (yes, it is true) and wander around in the empty house. I hate cooking, so make do with mostly biscuits and milk and ocasionally chapatis.
I need a complete overhaul (a word I borrowed from H's vocab, he seems to be using them all the time)

Three Things

2009-01-12T21:15:00.001+05:30

The year 2008 was a year of realizations. The year didn’t turn out to be a good one for me, although I hope to see a positive phase ahead.

I learned that I cannot wish away my problems – they keep coming back to haunt me. Unless I learn to deal with them, this year will turn out to be as traumatic as the last.

I learned that life is not fair and it is foolishness to expect it to be. Till I fight to prove myself and stand up for what I am, people are going to walk all over me and I would as good (or bad) as they assumed me to be.

I learned that God gives each of us something special and unless we make use of it, we just lose it. So it all amounts to me being disciplined and learning to write and getting better at it.

2009 beckons

2009-01-02T17:50:00.006+05:30

To think I can let go a brand new year without making any promises to myself!
It was definitely prompted by Tumblewords' lovely poem and I feel I need to do it all the more.
The most important ones (not necessarily in that order) -
1. Be regular in writing, learn to be objective while editing and polish the line till it shines...
2. Get a job and keep it
3. Excercise
4. Take a wonderful holiday
5. Learn to be patient
6. Not fib

Not so important ones - ummm... well, I decide to chuck this category: any way it is not so important.

Watch

2008-12-30T18:31:00.005+05:30

It took all the power of
those stains
of dried up tears
on my pillows and
the leftover dreams to
watch
Him walk away…

Prompt from Heads or Tails : Watch