Archive for the ‘Writing 101’ Category

You’re told that an event that’s dear to your heart — an annual fair, festival, or conference — will be cancelled forever (or taken over by an evil organization). Write about it. For your twist, read your piece aloud, multiple times. Hone that voice of yours!

 


 

Since it is Dusshera (Vijay Dashmi) time in my country, India, I remember  an incident  of my childhood that suits to today’s prompt.

To begin with, those who don’t know what Dusshera is, I would like to throw some light on that. Dusshera is the tenth day of the Navratri, one of the biggest festivals celebrated in India. It marks the victory of the good over the evil as on this day Lord Rama and his forces emerged victorious over the ten-headed demon kings Ravana, his brother and son Meghnad & Kumbhkaran. Also, Goddess Durga had killed the demons after a long battle. For more details, click here.

A glimpse of the celebrations in India –

Now, coming back to my narrative, being children who had not entered their teen’s, my siblings & I were too excited to go to the Dusshera fair. We had read in the books and heard a lot from our grandparents about this festival & fair and this doubled our excitement. Obviously, it was a chance to visualize all that we had heard & read. Moreover, the ice-cream treat after the fair ended & the ride with dad were the other attractions. And, this all was being planned from a long time and the countdown started on the first day of Navratri (the nine-day festival). Our elders could get any work done by us in the name of fair. As kids, we did also but now it seems to be a stupidity. But then this is probably the fun & charm of being kids. They are so pure at heart. They find happiness in the smallest of the pursuits and while growing up we forget that art, but we still say, we have grown up. Ironic, isn’t it?

Any ways, the fair. Yes, everything went as planned until the ninth day when we got to know in the evening when dad returned home that we would not to be able to go to the fair tomorrow as he had to leave  the town that very night owing to some medical emergency with some relatives. I was too small to understand what went wrong. All I could gather from the discussion was that dad had to leave & so we won’t be going the day after as my mum could in no way handle the ‘little us’ alone in that rush created by large masses & mob. So, we were disheartened but and sad.  That night mom got busy with dad’s packing and stuffs and by the time she got free, we were asleep. The next morning was a terror for mum. An outburst from her kids, say a minute revolt. We shouted and cried that how can you people not fulfil what you promised? We were adamant for our demand of going to the fair. Mom had to put in more effort than she though to be able to convince us and make us smile. But, for some obvious reasons, she succeeded. You know, how mums are.

So, this was the incident when we had our voices loud enough to break the mirrors. Looking forward to some such incidents from your end too. Feel free to share.

Letter to a Flower

Posted: October 2, 2014 in Writing 101
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Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What jumps out at you? Start there, and try a twist: write in the form of a letter.


 

Dearest Flower,

Hope you are in the pink of your health.  I am super fine and super happy to write to you. I know you can’t read this but I am sure my message will reach you in the same language as yours reaches us…Confused..??

Oh! please don’t be. I just meant that we will talk in your language since you don’t understand mine, I’ll try to converse in yours. You must be thinking how do you communicate, wait, I’ll tell you.

  • A bouquet of yours is best accompanied as a congratulatory message or with a Get Well Soon message.
  • You even help us to convey condolences.
  • An apology message or  a cheering up message is better said through your help.
  • You are a gift that spreads smiles along with its fragrance.
  • You convince the couples, you mend relationships, you add love in their lives.
  • The decoration you lend to our houses on special occasions is worth a mention.
  • The boutonnières and the corsage that you weave adorn us extraordinarily.
  • You complement our home décor.
  • You are the means to please God.
  • Some essential oils that you own also serve our medicinal purposes.
  • Your scent is a natural perfume.

And, the list goes on and on. You do so much for us and do not expect anything in return. Even if we do not treat you the right way, you still make sure to keep our lives fragrant as always. The misbehaviour doesn’t let the sweetness lessen. Your selfless nature is worth following. Now, I hope you understand what communication was I talking of. Set aside, the fragrance and the use you are being put to, your colour also communicates a lot. What is needed is to understand your language and emulate that attitude in our lives. To list a few —

  • White symbolises Peace & Purity.
  • Pink symbolises Grace & Delicacy.
  • Blue symbolises Serenity & Calmness.
  • Orange symbolises Energy & Enthusiasm.
  • Purple symbolises Spirituality & Faith.
  • Yellow symbolises Joy & Light-heartedness.
  • Green symbolises Good Health & Happiness.
  • Red symbolises Love & Anger.

The red colour can be taken to be a symbol of love & anger both, it is on we humans how we perceive things. Your nature is a perfect epitome of being patient, selfless and humane.

And my dear friend, these are no sugar-coated words to please you. This to express my gratitude towards you on behalf of the entire mankind. Moreover, you don’t need flattery, do you? You help one and all who comes to you asking for help. And, you even lose your identity and roots in order to be of help. Sometimes you die amidst the pages of lover’s books & novels and sometimes you are thrown besides the roads. And, the pure and gentle soul, you still help. What more can you do and what more do we expect? Nothing my dear friend, nothing. I look up to you. If any day I can be the way you are, I ll be glad.

Till then, I’ll always treasure you.

Loads of Love,

Love.

In continuance of Serially Lost and in response to Serially Found –

 While she fell asleep, she still had those thoughts and questions hovering in her mind, troubling her and not allowing to have a sound sleep. Probably, she didn’t have in in months now. But, as they say, there are limits to everything, so had her pain and suffering. And, the limits were reached. It was high time that she had been going through all this mess that she certainly didn’t deserve.  What was required doing was introspection, but she wasn’t in a condition to have realized that herself. Thank God, she had a dream..A dream that was a flashback..A flashback of the entire happenings and consequences as of now. It was then she realized while conversing with her own self in her dreams that what went wrong?

There was an “Evil Her” dressed in black and a “Good Her” dressed in white while, she stood in the middle listening to what they had to say. Both had their own opinions, they had their own say and she kept calm and silent peacefully trying to understand what they had to say. It was then that she could formulate her opinion, she had her answers, she knew where she was wrong and vowed to herself to stop doing it and mend the situations she faced. It was she herself who could help her and no one else. She was at fault by caring more than what he deserved. To love selflessly is no wrong, but to have loved a ‘him’ selflessly was wrong as he didn’t value that so he didn’t deserve it. And, it wasn’t him that troubled her but her being stick to him and his memories that caused the pain, so she decided to move on.

She decided to be strong and accept the things as they are. She decided to let go of what she can’t control. She decided to be patient enough to wait for what she truly deserved as now, she was confident that one day she will be valued for her care, concern and love. And, the one who values will be ‘The One’. A dream of her’s awakened her to reality. In a dream, she found all her answers. In solitude, she found bliss. In loneliness, she found happiness.

Every end is a new beginning.

Posted: September 30, 2014 in Writing 101

In it’s truest sense it is foreshadowing…something that I wrote before knowing of this prompt. Isn’t it Foreshadow? lolzz.. I am glad to reblog my own post for the topic that is connected… 🙂

Writing 101: Dark Clouds on the (Virtual) Horizon

perferviddreams

It was a dark & beautiful Wednesday evening when they met at a coffee shop. His late arrival compelled her to wait and this was nothing new for her. She was lost in her thoughts of the quarrel they had the previous night and this was also the agenda of the meeting. The thoughts about the consequences of the fight as to in which direction will it lead them disturbed her. Does it signify the end or is it paving way for a new beginning? She was too occupied with her fear of the future and the memories of the past that she didn’t notice that he had arrived.

He called out her name in order to confirm his presence.

They greeted each other, trying to be friendly and not showing the impact of the fight, although it was visible in their eyes. The waiter arrived to take their order…

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Home Sweet Home

Posted: September 29, 2014 in Personal, Writing 101
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Size Matters – Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.

Create a sound that pleases the reader’s ear. Don’t just write words. Write music.


I am glad that I still live in the same  I lived when I was twelve. Though the things have changed, time has changed and so has the structure and the people inhabiting it. I mean the house has been renovated and some people have shifted in and out of the house but the place is still the same, as heavenly as always.

 is where I live with my family, creating memories & re-living them and spending time happily laughing with each other. The place where most of my life is spent. The place where I have had ages of fun, The place that has been a witness to all the celebrations, howsoever small or grand. The place where even the ordinary days were converted to those special festivities due to the presence of some special people. The place that is evident to everything listing from smallest joys to biggest achievements, a sibling squabble to the elderly quarrel, from the moments to rejoice and cherish to events just opposite and anything that was happening and not-so happening.

The house I live in is a two floor building, the ground floor having a few big and spacious rooms with windows and ventilators for proper ventilation that serve as the living room and bed room, a moderate kitchen from where the aroma of delicious food keeps coming every now and then, a drawing room adorned with various trophies and mementos, a very large compound that witnessed most of my childhood and the games I played then, a common dining space where we all eat together, though sometimes the timings do not match (be it due to different school, college or office hours), parking lot (which formed a part of our pitch when as kids my brother along with his friends and I used to play there), two box-rooms that act as a warehouse (concerning the volume of the things they store) and small vestibule at the entrance and the upper floor is a roof-top open terrace where most of my late evenings are spent, even now. Back then, when I was 12, I used to roam about, run and wander with my siblings and friends and now my cell is added to that list. Our home is surrounded by the semi-detached houses on either side, facing the street directly and an open backyard where we have a few plants grown depending upon the season it is.

After this small description of the vernacular architecture of our rambling home, all I have to say is ”  is where your ❤ is.” And, all it takes is ‘Love’ to make a house “Our Home”.  I  our .

N.B. – As the prompt says, “Don’t just write words, create music”. I don’t know if I have succeeded in doing that from a reader’s perspective but while writing this I have re-lived my life in a glimpse like a small video clip where the visuals are from past and the music of is the love, care and concern that I have been receiving ever since the day I was born. I am thankful and honoured for having a chance to write this.

The Foodie Mee.. :)

Posted: September 26, 2014 in Writing 101
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Writing 101 – Today, be inspired by a favorite childhood meal. For the twist, focus on infusing the post with your unique voice — even if that makes you a little nervous.

After reading the prompt, first thing I did was to ask my Mom “What was my favourite childhood meal?”, as to be very honest, I am not very particular regarding food. I’ll eat whatever served, unlike my siblings and I am being praised by my family for that.

But, then when I insisted, that there must be something I was very fond of and could have it any time, she replied “Fruits and Juices or Shakes”. And I was like, “Mom, that isn’t a meal” and she started laughing and said,”But for you, it was. When you used to come back home from school, all that you had was fruits and juices. It was probably a day or two out of seven in a week that you had proper lunch.”  I couldn’t resist but join in her laughter, when she added, “Dear, till now if given an option, won’t you prefer to have that?” because the answer to her question is in affirmative.

Apart from that, some of my peculiar food habits or favourites –

  • Everything that my mother and granny cooks are mouth-watering and yummmm.
  • I am fond of Sweets.

  • I love Indian Street Food.

  • Chocolates are any time & every time on for me.

  • I can’t go without Icecreams & Kulfi –
 

By now, you all must have come to know that I am an all time ”Foodie”.

P.S. – Thanks to “Google” for the images, but I wish these weren’t just images but real.. 😉

#Writing101#Day9#PointOfView#

Posted: September 25, 2014 in Writing 101
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A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.


The environment at home wasn’t peaceful at all. Krish was not feeling well rather was grief-stricken. The memories of his parents disturbed him a lot. Most of his time was spent in his parent’s room after they died in a car accident. It’s been a week since he last stepped out of the house. Krish’s wife Aanya thought of taking him out for some change, be it his mood, his thoughts or the environment. She planned to go for a walk in the evening. It was difficult to convince Krish but she did. So, they were out for a walk in the nearby garden.

Aanya was herself too was upset with this irreplaceable loss but she was more worried about her husband Krish who once was a very jolly and easy going person, who lived to laugh & spread laughter has not even smiled since that day. By hook or by crook, she wanted that lost Krish back. She wouldn’t leave any stone unturned for that. They were walking through the park, holding hands together, and they crossed the bench where his parents used to sit and take rest while they came for a walk as a daily routine and they both knew this. Krish couldn’t control the tear drops from his eyes to fall. Aanya tried to explain that what has happened has happened and can’t be changed. Just as this bench is lying empty but you can feel their presence around, similarly,the space in our hearts is vacant but their blessings will always be with us. It’s not the ‘Presence’ but the ‘Essence’ that matters. And, I am sure even they don’t want to see you upset and distressed. Krish understood what Aanya meant. They went and sat on that bench for some time observing the activities in the park, the playing children, the lush-green gardens and their the feel of their presence. Being each other’s strength was their strength.

An old lady was watching all this sitting on a near-by bench who had probably recognized them to be Mr. & Mrs. Khanna’s son and daughter-in-law. They were her companions somehow. Seeing the young couple, she did have a reminiscence of her husband and the times they walked together. She was both happy and sad. Happy to see Krish and Aanya together and for the fact that they were such wonderful and lovable children and sad at the loss that they all faced.

Suddenly, both of them got up from the bench and started walking towards the old lady. Krish knew that she felt lonelier. And, as was Krish’s nature to spread smiles, he was back on track and managed to lent a smile to that old lady who was lost in her memories.

They all walked together to the parking area where Krish and Aanya had their car parked. Krish suggested to drop her on the way. And while on the way, they planned to come to the park together daily. Some how, this way their mutual emptiness was being fulfilled.

Every end is a new beginning.

Posted: September 24, 2014 in Writing 101

It was a dark & beautiful Wednesday evening when they met at a coffee shop. His late arrival compelled her to wait and this was nothing new for her. She was lost in her thoughts of the quarrel they had the previous night and this was also the agenda of the meeting. The thoughts about the consequences of the fight as to in which direction will it lead them disturbed her. Does it signify the end or is it paving way for a new beginning? She was too occupied with her fear of the future and the memories of the past that she didn’t notice that he had arrived.

He called out her name in order to confirm his presence.

They greeted each other, trying to be friendly and not showing the impact of the fight, although it was visible in their eyes. The waiter arrived to take their order and they were busy pretending being normal. As soon as they realized that he was standing besides they abruptly placed the order in haste.

“One Gourmet Hot Chocolate”, she ordered for him keeping in mind his sore throat and cold. And, he knew it was for him.

Gourmet hot chocolate

 

“One Devil’s Own”, he ordered for her knowing that she likes it.

Devils own

 

 

And “One hot chocolate brownie” they said in unison.

 

 

“Anything else, Sir”, the waiter asked.

He looked at her face confirming if she wanted to order anything else and replied, “No, that will be all”. She didn’t say a word but he inferred that from her facial expressions.

This made them realize that no amount of fights and arguments can hamper their understanding, their concern for each other, and their being aware of each other’s likes and dislikes. This brought a smile to their faces.

Coming to the point, she initiated the conversation in a very straightforward manner. They talked and cleared their doubts and misunderstandings. The conflict stood resolved. And, it was a happy ending.

There is  a saying “If it’s not happy, it’s not the end.” So, the end has to be happy. And, every end is a new beginning. The end of their fights was the beginning of a new bond, stronger, deeper and everlasting as they vowed to get married.

Written in response to Writing 101 & Foreshadow.

Focus today’s post on the contrast between two things. The twist? Write the post in the form of a dialogue.

One fine morning, while sipping coffee,

I had a few issues troubling me.

In a short while, I found,

I was questioning God.

The replies were obviously my own,

To answer me, He won’t come down.

The questions were something like,

for which I had to make my mind psych.

Hello God,

I know you must be in the pink of your health,and I suppose you don’t need any wealth. (that’s how they say) implying that you do not have much reasons to worry about or is it you have given all those reasons to we, humans.

He replied, its nothing like that dear daughter. I just test you for the patience and you start to bother.That isn’t my fault, that’s your own thought.

Then, I said, if its like that, what fun does he get in creating those obstacles and giving us pain?

He answered, that’s the outcome of your deeds & with your reactions the pain goes in vain.

I was mesmerized but too an extent convinced with what he said. And that is when I realized, it is we who are responsible for what happens to us and it’s always Him we blamed.

Now, I know those answers I once sought,

to the questions that are still untold.

It’s the situations we mould,

that causes the trouble we hold.

And, shut all the escape routes,

so our life goes, the way it does.

We should stop thinking much,

and accept whatever happens, as such.

Coz, whatever happens, happens for Good,

Believe it or not, that’s the ‘Ultimate Truth’.

A Character Building Experience

Posted: September 22, 2014 in Writing 101
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Today, you’ll write about the most interesting person you’ve met in 2014. In your twist, develop and shape your portrait further in a character study.

The first person who struck me after reading this description is a man who drove us (my family & I) to Darjeeling from Gangtok. A retired man in his mid-sixties, ordinary looking, short-height, well – built, grey hairs and wrinkled yet smiling face. Going by his looks, no one could ever say that he was a driving-champ who can smoothly run over the hilly terrain crossing the twists and the turns and passing through those scaring mountains slopes and that too in  a dark rainy night (as there are no street lights on that hilly area).

He initiated a conversation by introducing himself and asking our names and educational qualifications individually. While we were answering to all that he asked, he maintained the rapport by indulging himself in the conversation by telling us what his children have done/do. We all felt a little awkward in the beginning as we had never met such an extrovert (or say super – friendly) person before but later we were all very comfortable with the way he talked with due respect to all and being careful enough and concerned about his driving. He also told us about his life, the problems they face, his achievements amongst the many other things. By all this, you will understand why I call him a generous, gentle, humble, honest, hard-working, courageous, courteous, sensitive, sensible, well-mannered, dependable, down-to-earth and a laid back person. He was a very joyful and happy-go-lucky kind of a person, very optimistic towards life. In no ways, was he a taciturn man. He made us enjoy the ride thoroughly making us know the dangers involved and still not frightening us.

But while on the way, I admit that I was badly frightened, almost dead (amidst that dark and rainy night anybody would have lost senses) when we got stuck at a point where the car started to go down the slope while we were climbing up the hill but that experienced & daring uncle (I won’t prefer him calling a driver, he was that friendly and charming and made us feel so comfortable) struggled hard to get over it and finally he did and saved us from a nearing death experience, which I am sure no young driver could do. He was very attentive, careful and took defensive manoeuvres all through the drive.

Truly, he is one of those interesting persons I’ve met this year.

[Not a pic that I clicked then, but will help you understand the situation we faced.]

P.S. – Image Courtesy – Google