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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.

100 Words on Saturday - Write Tribe

 

Finding out ways

Vidya Sury 28.10 (7)

Respectability, what was that? Not in our office at least.  I have a  tyrant boss who has killed my confidence. I had to find a way out. Resignation was not enough. The brute had to suffer the same way he made me suffer.

I walked into the library to find out ways to kill him.

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Written for 55 on Fridays at Writetribe.

55 on Friday #WriteTribe

Thank you Write tribe. I am so busy nowadays and I am so glad that I don’t need to think of what to write with your different prompts 🙂

Random thoughts and free write ups

Expectations are a curse, but can one live without expecting. It hurts especially if you feel that someone whom you are very attached to or someone from whom you do  not hide anything, is not so open with you. You know, hides facts, does not reciprocate and then you submerge yourself in self-pity.

The expectation that the world will function as you want… but why should anyone follow your will or your dictates, everyone has their own feelings, their own better sense to guide them.

But why this sudden thought on expectations. Two things basically. A person close to me always hides facts. Now that hurts. Why, I think. But then why not. For me the person is important, for her it may not be so. I may be just another individual in her vast entourage of friends.

Another used to talk to me when there was no one around. I foolishly believed that I mattered to her. Until a couple of times amidst a group she ignored me totally and then reality stuck. The same person would tell me repeatedly that I am wasting my time by not earning. ‘But I write’, I said. Writing is OK as a hobby but it doesn’t pay, she retorted.

Why don’t I work is a mystery to myself. Maybe because I really do not have the stamina to balance a house and a career. Or that I never found the satisfaction that I get from reading scriptures or teaching children. Yes, I can be a teacher but for that I need to do a B.ed and will I have the same enthusiasm when I teach for money, I really do not know.

As I finish my homely chores and sit with my books jotting notes, highlighting points, it fills me with peace. I feel happy when I see the mysteries of life unfolding. The analogies which bring forth dimensions not yet thought by Me, fill me with anticipation as to what else it may mean. And when I close down the books, they remain in my subconscious, going up and down like waves and then sometimes a new thought strikes. Aah what joy that moment holds.

Yes, I can be alone. I do need company but hopefully I will grow up one day and realize that you can be friends and yet not expect. Be connected and yet remain aloof. I may be termed as a recluse but then now I have enough inner peace to cling on and be strong. ___________________________________________________________

There… that is what I wrote in 15 minutes. Write tribe has this free write theme for this week. A prompt which suited fine for the avalanche of thoughts that were going on in my mind.

Write Tribe

Thank you Suzy for helping me sort out my thoughts.

7 Days

Fridays I jump up from the bed with a happy song. It is a holiday and a special day wherein the body follows the heart.

Saturday is a weary day. The activities of the previous day have battered self. So slow I move, all at a leisurely pace. A saving grace that the others have to go to school and work and so I have some time for myself.

Sundays are the days to clean. Arrange everything that is scattered everywhere. Sundays are also days to prepare.

Mondays are hurry-burry days. Days of us women meeting up and then discussing on the Bhagvad Gita. And then later it is some talking on mundane and food.

Tuesdays we meet up to honor the Guru. Read some scriptures one amongst many.

Wednesdays are the day for planning. Preparing for children’s class the next day. Some new game, a play, oh there is so much you can do in a way.

Thursday is the day of anticipation, The weekend is about to begin. Clean and keep everything shiny for the fun in the evening and next day.

So how are your 7 days?

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* We have our weekly ‘off’ on Fridays here.

I am taking part in the seven day blogging challenge at Write tribe 1st to 7th September 2013WTFestivalofWords

The telemarketer

It was a busy day. The day had been spent on conference calls, preparations, presentations. But days are like that when the company is going through some restructuring.

Nitin was tired, longing to escape on a holiday with his family but no, not now, not for some months at least.

The phone rang. He picked it up.file000884219889

‘Sir, I am calling on behalf of xxxxx Bank would you like to take a personal loan?’, the telesales-person said.

‘How many times I have to say no and how did you get my office number?’, he screamed.

‘Sir please I need to complete my target. Please Sir’, she pleaded.

Nitin understood that this is one lady who would not withdraw.

‘Why don’t you meet me today evening at Starbucks at Exhibition Road? And I want you to meet me and not some silly Salesman’.

There was silence for some time and then she said, ‘Fine Sir, 6.30 p.m then’

‘Yes but I can give you 15 minutes not more than that.

‘Sure Sir’

Nitin was puzzled. Will a tele sales girl be so ready to oblige just for a silly target? But who knew what her obligations were. A family to support maybe………

The phone rang. It was his six-year-old son. ‘Dad’, he said in a grave tone.

Nitin’s mind raced. Why is his son so serious? Is he unwell, did he have a fight at school?

‘Dad, what day is it today?’

‘Saturday’, he replied.

“What are you doing in office? It is your holiday isn’t it?’

‘I have work son, loads of work’.

‘So much that you forgot you HAD to attend the PTA at school?’

Nitin slumped on the chair. He had promised the kids that he would attend this meeting for sure. His wife had reminded him last night but he had forgotten.

He wanted to say something but realized that the line had been cut.

Why do we have to work like this. He thought. You have deadlines to reach, presentations to make, satisfy clients just to earn some money. And when you think you have earned enough, you realize that your kids have flown away, you are old and maybe just have obesity and arthritis for company.

It was 7.00 p.m. The phone rang, ‘Sir I am waiting for you’

And then Nitin remembered that he had promised the tele girl that he would meet her. He told his assistant that he will be back in 15 minutes and rushed.

The doorman at Starbucks gave a broad mischievous grin and pointed at a table. Nitin rushed there and….. found his wife waiting there.

He stared at her.

She smiled and said, ‘Well you never listen to me so thought maybe a tele sales person could entice you.’ By then the kids joined them.

‘And by the way it is our wedding anniversary today’, she said with a smile. ‘Knew that you were too busy so we came here to celebrate with you. Care for some coffee?’

Written as a part of writetribe photo prompt

Image courtesy :MorgueFile (http://mrg.bz/LsH3I1)

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