Blogadda Who are you reading today ?

March 23, 2013

Tears of the drought

Do you not remember us?
Oh exalted Rain Gods
We light our lamps of fervent prayer,
Forgive any speck of rebellion
And drench this scorched earth,
Comforting winds, showers of life
Let hope sprout forth again.

Written for the Trifextra- Week Sixty at Trifceta  

The challenge is to use three words and make a 36 word response

The three words are:

My response is for the parts of my state(Maharashtra, India) hit by the drought and facing severe water shortage.

A Step Back

I sat by the window gazing afar
A hush I sense, stillness in time
Life is galloping away
And here I was feeling void, empty  

What were those dreams of mine?
In my childhood, in my adolescence
Dreams woven so beautifully, so daringly
With no crumbs of self doubt

Out of school I stepped and then
Obese books, generators and motors
Surging like a mountain torrent
Dragged me along an unstoppable flow

Couldn't pause, couldn't breathe
Those beautiful buds I held in my hand
One by one, they were wrenched away,
Striving to capture a raise, a feather

If only there could be a crack,
A fissure in the wall of time
I could tiptoe back into the land
Of enchanted trees and magical beings.

Written for Fireblossom Friday: The crack in Everything at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Caught up in the rat race, striving an ascending career path with raises and feathers in the cap you lose some magical element you always wanted in life.

March 20, 2013


They rolled about, legs up in the air.
Like cuddly little puppies without a care.
Sniffing each other, pawing each other
A tiny nibble hither and thither. 
Their soft laughter, full of sparkles
Up they go, running in circles
Who is chasing who? you never know
Now is their time, their hearts aglow
Brothers are friends for ever
Alone is what they will be never.

Written for Susan's  Stretching Comparisons at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads


He ran like a little fawn leaping over the bushes. Never had this much space at home and mother was always yelling if they ran about in their two bedroom flat. It was lunch break in school. Vaulting over short walls and reaching for the tree leaves. He dashed about like a boomerang.  He was euphoric that teacher had complimented him today on his handwriting. Mother will be so jubilant. He was sure. Eating was at the back of his mind. Mother would be really upset if he brought lunch back home. She does crib that she gets up early to cook him lunch for school. He decided to wash his hands and settle down with his friends for a quick bite.  He was all smiles as he parked near the gang. “Hello Blackberry”, one voice quipped.
That one word was enough to infect his cheery heart with gloom. He looked at his hands and legs. Was I really that black? Mother always told me I am very good looking. He tried to fight the despair. He looked at their laughing faces.  He couldn't understand what they found funny. Silently he finished his lunch. Dragging himself back to classroom, he wished his mother was near to hug away the blues.
Suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder and down came the showers. He looked up to the heavens and spotted a friendly cloud. He raced with the others to the open grounds for their rain dance. Merrily they swayed. Only the colors of childhood in sight.   

Written for Trifecta Challenge  Week Sixty Nine     

Challenge -> use the word "Infect "

3a : contaminate, corrupt   
  b : to work upon or seize upon so as to induce sympathy, belief, or support                                                                                                                                                                                   

March 17, 2013


A young executive was nervously biting her nails. It was the detailed design meeting. She had to present the exact design of the new service requested by the client. The team lead was a micro managing maniac. His quiver was full of queries coated with instant poison. It always jammed up the nerves relaying data to her brain. She would start mumbling jargon she hardly could mouth. This was going to sink faster than Titanic and he was sure to needle in that he had warned her of all the icebergs. This was a tricky service. They had to keep all other services undisturbed and connect this new service with those. He had been asking for updates on the design daily. Bloody Mogambo. They had a name for him since he had a habit of saying “That makes me happy” when stuff got done. Mogambo was the king of evil villains and “Mogambo Khush Hua ” was his eternal tagline.
She had always given him some thing to chew on. Now there was to be detailed explanation of functions, sub services, sub modules. It was not that she didn’t work on it. She had done a good amount of hard work but she couldn’t tear herself away from a new attraction. Aman. He was the stuff Yash Raj was made of. His dimpled smile. The way he coaxed her to the canteen. The way he complimented. Even in the gloom of the huge impending doom Aman was like a fragrant breeze soothing her nerves.
She closed her eyes and tried to recall all those ice creams…all those pizzas and burgers. He had so much time. She had wished that they both were in the same project.  Maybe they could have finished this horrid detailed design in some cozy cafĂ©.  All those days were magical. Aman had told her in the morning chat over messenger that he had some thing important to tell her. That would make up for the shootout about to begin. She tried to pacify herself. This was just a job. Aman was a lifetime. She had used her time wisely. He was perfect in all ways. She just couldn’t bring it up to feel guilty about not using her time for her work. Not a problem if her appraisal was screwed over this. I can face any crap life would throw now that Aman was there, she comforted herself.
She looked at the time again and gathered up her prints. Mechanically she walked up to the conference room. How could I blow this, a question darted in the back of her mind. She passed her team lead’s cube and saw a big poster in bold letters “WORK IS WORSHIP”. That guy really lived it. Not such a bad thing. She felt her stomach cramping.
Slowly others piled into the conference room. She sat by the whiteboard. Depression flooding slowly.  Aman couldn’t keep her dry anymore. How could he pull me away from work? He knew I had this big task, yet he wanted all those long discussions. How could he not care about me doing well at work? A seedling of resentment raised its head.
Enter Mogambo. “Are we all here?” he asked. “Yes, the whole team is right here. Shall I start then?” she gulped even as she tried to keep a brave front.
“Yes we shall start but I am expecting another team to join us. There is a major change. I am sure you worked too hard on the design but it appears you may have to tweak it some. There were some suggestions about merging another service with this one and yesterday night the client has given the nod to it. So we have to rethink the design with the other service functions. They already have some components which we can reuse”, he ended. Never did his words elate me so. Dare I ask that this meant I was off the hook for today? “That means we have to redesign from scratch then ?” I asked trying to mask the joyful jingle rising inside me.” I am afraid so” he replied. “Don’t worry. We can try to reuse some components of your design. But we have to reason it out with the other team.” he replied.
Really? God alone knows what is there to reuse…reuse..ha ha when will this guy stop ? I was no longer humble and bowed down. In walked the other team and I spotted Aman with his dimples. I could have broken into a jig.
 The teams got introduced and then Aman’s team lead took over “This is definitely a  most interesting project. But I have some important assignment I was already committed to take up in Munich. So I will sadly not be around here to push you all. Aman will how ever see to it that everything sails smoothly. He is taking over the lead role while I am away. “
Mixed emotions flooded in. Aman was applauded and pushed to the center stage. “Thank  you Ravi for your confidence in me. I will not let you down. I believe that both our teams could work great together. We may have to push ourselves a bit more.   We need to give every second of our time to our work. Entertaining ourselves in office hours will not be tolerated. We cannot take our work lightly. We have to gear up and out perform everyone else if we expect to be rewarded.” he concluded.
Did he throw a glare in my direction, she shuddered.  Her wish was granted.They were going to work on the same team, more or less.  But he had turned into Mogambo.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

March 16, 2013

Slipping away

There was beautiful sunshine and fragrant air,
A cool breeze teasing my unruly hair.
In I slowly put my hand ,
Picked up a fistful of golden sand.

Merry times on a beach, splashing in the waves !
Blend of fun and love any girl craves.
Not a care anywhere in sight,
My life never seemed so bright.

Slipping through my fingers, cannot hold forever..
Hurtful words I should not remember,
Cling onto the tender love and laughter.
The sun will rise again the night after.

I grope again in the space,
I know I have myself to brace.
Broken pieces of a dream..
Surges my agony in a silent scream.

Written for The Last Mixed Bag 

March 03, 2013

Little Chef

I waited and waited while all the beautiful long haired princesses got picked up by cute dimpled girls in frilly frocks. I knew I wasn’t a princess. I was just an ordinary girl with a plain dress. My hair wasn’t long or blonde. My dress was simple red and white checks with a red belt with no fancy silver buckle. My shoes were black and kind of ugly. I used to gaze longingly at those beautiful homes Barbie lived in. Bursting with colors and blooms. She had an endless wardrobe and accessories. I had nothing. I stood in a plastic case. Slowly gathering dust. Sometimes when the toys became too dusty, dirty or old they were  thrown into a box and never seen again. I wondered if that would be my future. I dreamed of a sparkling little girl who would see me within the dusty old plastic case.  She would make me her best buddy. She would probably not want to brush my hair because it wasn’t that long but we were going to do a lot of great adventures together. I was so sure of that.
And then that day came. It was a lovely family. The perfect mother, father and children. But they were boys. The elder one had kind eyes. He looked at me and slowly picked me up. "It has been here a long time, very dusty", his mother said. He wiped a part of my case clean with his fingers and looked carefully into my eyes. "Such a clever doll. She is a chef" he said. I was blushing. No one had ever found that out about me. I was a cook. A chef he said. I was so happy. He really saw me. But would he want a doll? He was just going to race for the trains or trucks or planes. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but then he never put me down. "Let us take her mom, please", he said. "What are going to do with a doll? “His mother was very surprised. "We can gift her Ann. It’s her birthday next week. She has invited us for the party, rem?” he replied."Oh yeah, your cousin Ann. But I guess she would be expecting a beautiful princess doll...not this one...” his mother was reluctant."She has so many of those....she would need a chef as well some time...please mamma, let us gift this doll to Anne", he was so persuasive. And that’s how I got all cleaned up and wrapped in a beautiful gift box with a pretty ribbon.
I was a little sad that the boy who saw me as who I really was didn’t want me for himself. Anyway I am going to have a home, a friend and so many adventures. I tried to comfort myself. So now I waited in the darkness of the gift box for Anne to find me. Days crept by, but I could imagine what went on the outside of the gift box since my little prince would come and talk to me everyday.
"Hello Cheffie...Guess what happened in school today..Are you sleeping ?...", he would go on...describing how his friends were teasing him or fighting...or about some exploration they did in the lunch break. I would try to imagine all that....I could still remember his face.
Anne's birthday arrived and it was a grand party. I felt nervous hearing all the commotion. So many many giggling girls. Was Anne
going to like me ? Would she want to play with me ? Would she talk to me ? There were so many songs..I guessed they were playing some games...they all seemed happy and nice. I was going to be fine, what was I worrying about. I felt a bit sleepy...the noises seemed to be coming down...there were byes being said, so I tried to stay awake...Anne will open my box any minute now. After a billion good nights I heard the distinct sound of a little girl skipping towards me. "I am going to open all my presents now... "No Anne..You have to go to school tomorrow..It’s very late..why don’t you go to sleep now ...let us do it tomorrow after school.." , a very strong authoritative voice played out.
There was a loud shrill wail. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO...I want to see them all now........sob sob....its my have to listen to me....sob son sob"
"Stop crying cannot blackmail us on your birthday...."
The wailing increased in frequency.
"Ok, you can open five presents..the rest tomorrow after school..."
There were heart started pounding..this is it.....I could hear her ripping off wrapping paper...not my box..I was still inside..and not after the other...finally I felt movement...I was going up...the box was open in a flash. And Anne, a most beautiful rosy cheeked little girl with bangs and beautiful long hair looked at me..I couldn't breathe. I was so overjoyed. She was more beautiful than any princess doll.
She smiled at me and picked me up..."What’s this Ken has gifted? He should have got me a book..he has no taste in dolls" ..she examined me closely and kept me on the shelf. She then disappeared. So his name is Ken. I smiled remembering the kind little boy. I recalled that Barbie had a vain boyfriend called Ken. But the Ken who gifted me to Anne was hardly vain. I wondered if Anne liked me.
I was to find that out the next day afternoon. After opening all her birthday presents princess Anne ordered her staff to clean up her room and arrange all the new toys according to their new jobs. I eagerly awaited my new station. I was not in the back rows. I was placed near a Barbie palace. I looked around and saw the beautiful Barbie dolls in amazing gowns and bejeweled denims. I started to feel like scum. Anne came near me and looked me over carefully. "You need a makeover. Let me see your hair". She loosened my hair. I didn’t have much long hair and that was pretty disappointing for her. She frowned. "You have terrible curls...let me brush them" . I was happy. Anne was going to turn me into Barbie. Brushing was painful at first. I had never brushed my hair before so I assumed my hair was a mess. But Anne got impatient after sometime.  I sensed that she was using more force to move the brush and it started hurting more and more. "Why doesn’t it stay? What’s wrong with your hair?...maybe u need conditioning..."
I found myself soaked in cold water while Anne shampooed and put some smelly stuff into my hair. She decided to blow dry my hair then. The heat was so awful. I wanted to scream while my cheeks burned. After that Anne was a bit tired but not happy at all with my hair. She put me on the shelf. She went out to have refreshments I think. This was no fun, I shuddered. Barbie looked at me and said “I hope you are all right”. “Not very”, I replied.  Why was being beautiful so easy for her and such a torture for me? She was so graceful. I just stared at her. I could never become her.
Anne returned all refreshed with new ideas for my reformation. She cut away my dress. I felt so ashamed. She then wrapped me in an itchy lacey clothe and tried to sew it in some weird dress like silhouette. The needle poked me innumerable times. I don’t remember when her sewing ended. After sewing she decided to have tea with her army of Barbie dolls. I hoped she would include me in the tea party. I was a chef after all. But she never thought me worthy.
This went on day after day. She painted my nails one day and scraped it off with some sharp blade like thing the next day. She tattooed on my hands and legs and later tried to scrape it off too. I felt that I was dying….losing bits and pieces of myself day by day. I started to feel scared every day as the noon sun shone brighter. What ghastly game plan would Anne have today?
She cut my hair in all weird styles. She colored some part of it. She even started painting on me. The most painful were the sewing days when she decided to play dress designer. I had never imagined that this would be my life with Anne. It had never crossed my mind ever that I would be treated this way, like something with no feeling…no self respect. Anne never even looked at me. All she wanted was to use me. She was not playing with me. Playing should be fun for me too. I wished to see Ken again. Maybe he would see my agony and rescue me. Would he understand unspoken words? Would he read my plea for help? Would he want to be even seen with a doll? And now I dared to call myself nothing less than hideous. Ken hardly ever came to see Anne but one day I heard Anne discussing Ken’s birthday party with Barbie over tea. That was my chance. To flee from a life of zero respect. To be treated like a chef who I rightly was. I decided to hide in Anne’s bag and run away to Ken’s on the birthday day.
Climbing into her bag was easy. I lay low, praying she would never find me. At the party I sneaked out and hid under the chair.  I was slowly making my way into a room when someone picked me up. A pair of kind eyes. Ken!!! He looked at me “Who do you belong to?” he asked. He could not recognize me I realized. Anne had really tried out all her makeover strategies on me and now I was probably some alien life form from Neptune. Ken looked at me again…”Do you belong to Anne? ” I wanted to scream “No”...don’t hand me back to her …keep me over here… Just then Anne appeared and my heart sank. “Ken…come along …time for games….you silly birthday boy”. Ken frowned …”You are not getting your doll back Anne” he muttered and hid me behind the curtains.  I waited there…..hoping that no cruel ice princess find me. Ken may have forgotten me….he may still not come back and get me from behind the curtains but I was going to have my adventure. Hideous as I may be now…I was going to go on and have all my adventures. I smiled in my new found courage and promised myself that I would never suffer again.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda -