The light of Passion

PADE Day 7                                                                                                                                                                                   

Theme – Light

The light of Passion

A long time ago, I saw a peculiarly shaped cloud in the evening sky. Almost like a fearsome monster. As I looked on, it slowly spat out the sun and then it resembled an oyster cradling a precious pearl.

I had clicked the different stages of the cloud as it moved over to reveal the sun in its glory. The images make me reflect on the light of passion within us that can transform us. I believe we need to be passionate about something. Even watching tv can be sort of a passion. Maybe not one to be pursued too long.
Passion is what lights up our dull existence.

I thought I would also share this with the toads as I couldn't get another poem out of me for Monday.

A light dwells within us

A little sun, a little ball of passion

Brightens up the world it shines upon

Suppressed, it shapens into an ogre

Let it out and watch

An oyster cuddling a pearl                                                             

This post is my entry for the PADE conducted by “Just a mom” or “ Things to rave about”

Also shared with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads in them.

Layers of love

When I saw the word layer, this photo of my children taken some time ago leaped in front of my eyes.

It was chilly winter and they had on layers of clothing and covering. It also triggered thoughts of how helpless I was to protect them from the perfidious layers of the world.

This is my first post on PADE and I have enjoyed it tremendously. Will try to make it everyday and also catch up with the ones I missed.

Layers of clothing keep you warm my children

Layers of love will keep you warm inside

The world is to be discovered yet

Layer by layer

Some beautiful some treacherous

Your fiber will be tested

May this warm blanket and my prayers

Shield you and strengthen you

"This post is my entry for the PADE conducted by “Just a mom” or “ Things to rave about”

I won the Shutterbug of the day for this Theme !! 

One tiny feet, a giant leap for me

 Trifextra Week 75 challenge wanted us to write 33 of our best words. These are mine – to my children.

My children inspire me to do more. Being so non-ambitious, I would have gone no where without my parents pushing me to study. Later in life, for my children I want to explore every possibility, every talent within me so that I can inspire them to do the same. They have transformed me from a laid back (exact translation - lazy) non adventurous non experimental (kind of a dry leaf on the mercies of wind-blown where ever) existence to taking the reins in my own hands.

Tossing away self doubts

Push myself to places higher

I pretend to be an adult

But I don’t know the way any better

Come, lay your tiny feet

On wobbly grounds of life. 

Fields of Harmony

I am visiting the Imaginary Garden after a very long time. School summer vacation had me travelling to grandparents homes with no laptop and an avalanche of trips and treks and visitors and shopping. 

Now back home to the usual grind. I get a little free time when my younger son goes off to kindergarten. I am definitely putting that to good use. If only I could get up from the couch and throw the tv remote down the drain.

Thanks Hannah for the beautiful tulips. I really enjoyed the train of thoughts they triggered.

I couldn't watch the video, the streaming was very slow for my connection. But I got the idea of the gardener and his huge toil.

This poem is written for the Friday challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Borrowed from Real Toads 

Hannah gave us some images of Tulip fields from Holland. A never ending ocean of vibrant hues.

Fields of Harmony 

If I could capture these soothing shades

In my thoughts, my words

As far as the eye can go,

A ribbon of purple, red, yellow

I envy the butterfly, the bee

I wish I could be like the wind

Gently touching each jubilant bloom

Inhaling a bit of a miracle called life

How can I fathom the greatness of the Creator!

So many different shapes

Such a blend of colors

Can a mere mortal ever conjure this up?

How amazing is the earth that breathes!

Can we keep these flowers real?

Let a caterpillar eat its leaves and petals

Let some flowers be flawed

Let not every smidgen be arranged and sold

Let the melody of life flow

A bit of rot and decay

For new blossoms,

New strata of life to open awe filled eyes.

One thousand pants

Written for Trifecta 82 

This week's challenge is 'club'. I couldn't link up in time ...connection woes..but I am posting anyway....

A light went on in the old shack. There was a moment of silence when she looked all around and contented that all their secrets were safe. Every copper piece and every plant, every book and rag were exactly in the same spot. Their shrine was undefiled.

In the corner there sat a huge green trunk, slightly rusty. There was a beautiful copper vase with cheap plastic flowers gathering dust, sitting on it. Almost like the door keeper of Tutankhamen. She lifted it gently, smiling to herself and opened the trunk. Inside were roughly folded and labeled pants in all colors. She sat herself by the trunk and waited for the others to arrive.

They started to trickle in. Some had in their possession the offering to the green trunk. They submitted it to her, their unassuming undemanding but awe inspiring leader. She folded it, labeled it and deposited it. Some had brought in some sweets which they shared. They all found their smile in the club. Some had news to share. Some brought new friends. The shack seemed to fit them all somehow.

When it was discovered that all of them had joined, she slowly stood up.

“Soon it will be time for us to focus on our own lives, families. We are nearing our target. We have to burn the trunk with a thousand pants and then start afresh.”

Tears rolled down some cheeks. They had all been treated like a piece of meat for the filthy pleasure of demented men. She had fused courage in them to wield the blade for a single cut to eradicate frenzied manhood.

 “Would one thousand be enough?” a trembling voice piped up.

“We cannot keep this up for ever. We cannot let this be our whole lives. We have to discover a new path.” She replied.

They pondered on it. She made sense like always. After all they were only children. Their parents had sold them off but they would take back their freedom.

Written for Trifecta 82 

A dreamy slow dance

Summer– Oh to wake up late, breathe in the chaste fragrance of ambition-less calm, drench in the hues of wild blossoms and trickling streams, slow dance under the endless twinkling canopy, in love. 

Written for Trifecta Writing Challenge - Trifextra Week 72.
This weekend's prompt is to describe summer in our own words. Thirty-three of them exactly, of course. 

My WeChat Pack

Flooded in by mundane tasks, cornered by snoopy desperate housewives, I would jump and snatch the opportunity to connect to those I love sharing everyday stories of life. My best friend Elizabeth is the first name I would add. She lives now in Ireland and whenever she calls we have so much news to exchange. Our brain waves are very much in the same frequency.  When we were roommates in Bangalore we had a lot of escapades, mostly from the nuns who wanted us to attend mass every morning at 6:00 am and switch off room lights at 8:30 pm!!  We hid behind doors, under beds. We played all sorts of card games till wee hours of the night. We discovered Bangalore devouring sweets and savoring KFC, drenched in rain. Some nights we woke up hearing terrible ghostly noises and sat trembling under our tables. It is quite tragic that you have to grow up and be married and live so far away from those who truly know you. Growing up years are painful yet full of hope and promise to glorious years. Elizabeth’s words touch that promise of glory still eluding me. She would make me see the audacity of my ambition and the insanity of my dream. But she would applaud me on. She is the one who knows what I am feeling in the deep parts of my soul because she feels the same exact way about everything.

 When all my best laid plans fall to smithereens I imagine I am talking to her about it and how she would make me laugh about it. It would be the perfect thing if I could do that in real instead of imagining. Elizabeth my best friend, with whom I have faced ghosts and nuns alike, I add thou to my WeChat pack.

Next pops up my office cube inhabitants. We were the noisiest cubicle. Mostly we discussed transgender issues, trying to spot the effeminate guys and those with different inclinations. We also dissected the project politics and the sadistic HR policies. It helped that none of us were in the same project team. We could offload all our project frustrations on each other without fearing that it could come back to us as a CRR (ranking) down grader. So those would be Vasundhara Ray and Vipin Jain. Vipin in the funniest guy I have met till date and Ray is my fashion police too.  Now I am a full time mom battling with two boys who want to live on Lays and Cola and I miss the cube a little. My critical issues and defects which need immediate fixes are homework and science projects.  To chat with Ray and Vipin while I go about warring would be a definite calming effect. My children would highly benefit that I take my focus off them and indulge in office gossip.

Cam Tucker from Modern Family is so full drama. He choreographs every little event into a larger than life scene. I love that. To enhance the little joys, to make life a little more filled with wonder, I want to talk to Cam and be swept away in his theatrics.

Then comes to mind the eidetic memory waala Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory. I want to see  how much I can combat with him – words wise, knowledge wise. I love to analyze how different people think and react and he is so radically different from anyone I have seen.

The last person on my list is my favorite author Jane Austen. I believe she has influenced me right from my teens. The noble thoughts in her stories. The beautiful form of the words. Like a melodious song lifting up a simple life into a magical ethereal romantic existence. I wish I could be able to talk like her. To conceive a world in which there is so much so love and goodness to share. I could also take hints from her on writing.

So here is my WeChat pack. The pack will increase in size over the days but this is the start.

1.     Elizabeth
2.     Vasundhara Ray
3.     Vipin Jain
4.     Cam Tucker
5.     Sheldon Cooper
6.     Jane Austen

I can see myself connecting with Cam on recipes and family event plans. I see offloading the crabbiness of the day with Elizabeth. Dueling with Sheldon Cooper. Having masti mazaa with Vipin and Ray. And taking in a breath of noble romance from Jane Austen.

For more on WeChat visit WeChat YouTube channel .

For You

Never believe when people say:

You are mediocre.

It is a crime to self to not try,

Never be content

Until all your senses for life

Are fully awake,

Your core fully alive.

Written for Trifextra : Week Sixty-Two 

Treasure

He opened the door with his key and put down his heavy bag on the floor.
He glanced over the kitchen and then darted out into the bedroom, lugging the bag.
She was in bed but not asleep. A poignant calm radiated from her. He felt an angst tearing across his heart. She wouldn’t approve.
She smiled. “You look excited. What’s up?”
He sat near her and took her hands into his. Felt icy old. Maybe she was washing clothes or dishes for long. She would not have to do any thing laborious any more.
“I have great news. I got a huge contract and I got some payment advance.” he announced. He kissed her on the forehead. Felt cold again. The room temperature was normal. What was going on? Was she sick? He looked deeply into her eyes for some clue. He hadn’t been able to see her much in the past couple of weeks. He was stressed over his scheme.
“I am so happy..maybe you can get those shoes you admired so” she smiled and seemed to struggle with her breath.
“An alarm rose in his subconscious senses. He cupped her icy face into his hands. “What’s going on?” he could barely bring out his voice. “Don’t be scared. Just the flu. Had it for some time now.” Suddenly she gasped and closed her eyes.
He shook her gently at first, then violently. She didn’t open her eyes. Her heart had simply stopped.
Tears seared his cheeks. He spotted his bag. He opened it and grabbed fistfuls of the rupee notes. This was what he dreamed of for her, not the stillness she was enveloped in. He felt guilty. He wasn’t there for her when she needed him most. The money had her blood on it. He threw the bag out of the window with disgust.

The small vegetable sellers by the road were suddenly amused in the rain of precious paper from the sky.


Written for Trifecta Week Seventy One

This week's challenge is the word rain.
rain (transitive verb)

1: to pour down
2: to give or administer abundantly
3: to take a lot of money in bill form and toss it up in the air. This is most effectively done at a strip club for the effect of raining one dollar bills on the dancers (and it makes them feel so pretty), or to snub a hater by throwing money into their face that then falls to the floor like rain (use this when paying a debt to a punk bitch who keeps asking for their money to the point that they are ruining your friendship or when dumping someone who has been bankrolling you for a while now that you're making money).

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:
remember
rain
rebellion

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