Visitor

I heard a knock and opened the door. The unexpected visitor just rushed in. ‘Thanks’, she said and then moved on to have a glass of water. ‘And you must have been busy with your busyness.Look at you untidy, disheveled and disorganized. No, no arguments. You are pathetic’, she said.

I glared at her but it didn’t make a difference to her. She went on from one topic to another. ‘Why can’t you leave me in peace’, I screamed.

‘How can I leave you alone. You are me and I am you, so how can I leave you’, she said.

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Inner voice. alter ego, whatever you say… it never leaves us in peace, does it? And it pops out/speaks out when least expected.

Written for 100 words on Saturday at Write tribe.

 

Make hay….

The winter has been quite dreadful. It hasn’t been very cold but it has been very windy with occasional rains.  The weather is such which  makes your teeth chatter and your bones cold.

As I snuggle inside the quilt to watch some TV, the son snuggled in along with me. And for some time we have fun, snuggling, kissing each other. And then I realise that in a few more years he will refuse to snuggle with me, spend time with me  or allow me to kiss him.

I snuggle some more and make the most of the available time.

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Written for 100 words on Saturday at Write tribe. The prompt this time free your mind.

Solution

It was 11.30 p.m. As she sat down with a sigh. Her mother- in-law came in and yelled. ‘And why is the light still on, who will pay for the electricity, your father?’. Nayana’s eyes welled with tears. Ten years and still no respect. She had to work the entire day. A donkey might have a better life. Her husband was his mother’s puppet. She had to escape somehow but where could she go?

As she switched off the light she noticed a loose wire.

She had the last laugh.

The problem was annihilated …after all she was the electricians daughter.

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No, I am not being vicious…just trying to write different.

Written for 100 words on Saturday at Writetribe

The prompt this time – She had the last laugh

I love my pastry

‘You don’t love me anymore’, I screamed, ‘It is only her nowadays, I said pointing at my ‘new’ sister.

And so I sulked. Ma cajoled and Pa tickled but did I smile. No.

And then Ma whispered something in Pa’s ears, And then Pa smiled and took the car keys and said, who will come for a ride?’

I turned my head but pa held my hand and pulled me out.

And off we went for a chocolate pastry. Pa beamed to see me drum but little did he know pastry is  why I had played this drama all along 🙂

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Written for 100 words on Saturday at Writetribe. The prompt being the picture.

My angel

My first visit to Moda mall and I was excited.

image courtesy: google images

I moved my gaze up and looked at the structure with its fans. The summer sun reflected its rays. Without sunglasses I was temporarily blinded but stepped into the foyer and banged on the door. Maybe the sensor of the automatic door was not working properly, but it opened after I banged on it. A bunch of guys laughed at me. I felt ashamed.

My little sister rushed in at that moment, held my hand, made me stable; all the while glaring at the guys and then we marched in.

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A real life incident which happened some years back. The only fictional part is that it was my hubby who held my hands. I do not have a younger sister and it is always my better half or the son who hold my hands while I keep banging on things or doors 🙂

Written as a part of Writetribe 100 words on Saturday. The prompt this time My little sister.

 

Some injuries save life

Akbar once got hurt while hunting. Birbal remarked that everything happens for good.  An infuriated Akbar jailed  Birbal.

While hunting in the forest the next day Akbar got separated from his retinue. The tribals in the forest were preparing for a sacrifice and for that they wanted a whole  human. Akbar was captured. But it was noticed that he was injured. Akbar was set free.

Akbar returned and released Birbal. Birbal  exclaimed that Akbar’s injury had been a blessing in disguise for both of them. If he had been with Akbar in the forest he would have been surely sacrificed.

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An oft told story for 100 words on Saturday 11 at Writetribe the prompt being Blessing in disguise.

DUMB!!

I  popped the cookies in the oven and  switched it on.  And then I noticed that there was no power. But the lights and fan were working.  The oven was plugged to an extension cord. So I unplugged and plugged again. Still, no power.

I brought another extension cord and tried again. No luck. Then I tried the extension in two other plug points, still no power.

‘Two cords gone simultaneously, how come?’, I muttered.

‘If I were you I’d do things differently‘, the son replied.

I raised my eyebrows.

‘There is a trip-off. Go switch it on’, said he.

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So know you know how dumb I am. 😛 Written as a part of 100 words on Saturday. The prompt being I’d do things differently

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Had I looked back…..

‘You really do not know to make a cootie catcher’, our six-year-old asked his father,

‘No’, said the father.

‘Alright then, pay attention’, he said and  began folding a paper.

We  exchanged happy smiles. Little did the brat know that his father was feigning. There is so much joy in learning from a child.

We sat in content silence. Had I looked back, I would have seen the years of adjustment and misunderstandings in our journey as a couple. Rome was not built-in a day, neither is our relationship. We built it little by little and it stands erect today.

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But then relationships are built like that. Written as a part of 100 words on Saturday for Writetribe. The prompt this time Had I looked back

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Image source; hubpages.com

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She moved out with a smile. She had never thought that she could manage that. This time, she raised the bar to her limits.

A contract killer she usually remained anonymous to her victims but today she did not. It helped that she knew the target. It was a pleasure to be hired to kill your enemy. To kill someone you hated so much upfront, felt nice. Ah, the look of horror…she had enjoyed that.  Now on she knew it would never be anonymous..it would always be forthright. Yes, from now on the victims would know who was killing them.

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Shocked on reading this? Well the theme for Write over the weekend at blogadda is This time she raised the bar…Well the woman in this story raised the bar of her own standards, didn’t she….:)

The smell of sustenance

Insulted, beaten, cursed I withdraw to my dark corner. There seems to be no respite to my bad luck, fortune still does not seem to bless me with either a knight in shining Armour or a wonderful job somewhere far.

From my limited possessions I take out ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen. A copy which was rescued from the neighbors garbage.  I open it up and take a deep breath. The smell of the old book invigorates me. I open it and start reading it yet again. Till the time I find an escape, I escape to the world of Emma.

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Fiction in 100 words written for Writetribe Wednesday. This time the prompt was the smell of old books. I have adapted the prompt to The smell of the old book. Hope it is acceptable.

Some of us have the comfort of having a career or giving it a miss.Some have the luxury of a home where in our views are respected
While some still have to struggle for an existence