My Soul To Keep

It was like the devil had taken my soul to keep. I let the bomb rip through her pretty head. I forgot my vow of secrecy to my husband. I forgot what I was taught, while growing up. Never hurt anyone with words or deeds.

Her face fell. She was shaken beyond words. The guests’ eyes were on me, shocked at my brutal words to her. No one could have imagined the gentle me, capable of such a callous behavior.

Did remorse touch me at the sight of her face? No. I was beyond caring. I was done with her.

With an assumed nonchalant air, I came out of the room, and went to call my husband, so that we could leave.

I had heard her talking to my husband, belittling me behind my back. My husband was laughing and saying, “Is that so?”

I was furious. I thought she was my best friend. With shattered belief I recognized her for what she was. She was a snake behind her wily charms.

That’s why I let on what my husband had told me not to divulge.

Her husband was having an affair with his secretary.

Photo Credit: Shutterstock


What you did to me
Gave me a surprise
You hurt me with your arrogance
Deceived me with your lies

Still don’t believe what happened
Your heart didn’t render with my cries
The tears kept falling down
So blurry were my eyes

Left me cold for another
So vague were your replies
I am still in denial
Hope arises with each sunrise

You won’t come back to me
Hope crumbles with my tries
My world got lost with your leaving
Left with memories to fantasize

The Butcher

Daily Prompt: Bookworms
Grab the nearest book. Open it and go to the tenth word. Do a Google Image Search of the word. Write about what the image brings to mind.

A day before, I had returned my library books. You can imagine my exasperation the only book lying in my room was my grand son Sn’s book, “More Scary Stories.” A week earlier, I had introduced him to “Freaky Folk Tales.” He was enthralled by the stories and could have horror to his heart’s content. Feeling indebted to me he thrust his book in my hands and told me to read it.

As per the Daily Prompt I opened the book, and the tenth word was butcher. Trust me to land in a soup. So here it goes.

Obviously everybody knows that a butcher is a person who slaughters animals and sell their meat.
A short poem to the butcher by me.

Please give me a sirloin
It’s so tempting to look
I will cook it and bake it
Kindly take it off the hook

Muslims celebrate Eid-ul-Duha. On this day Muslims around the world give sacrifice in God’s Name.

The tradition of sacrifice goes to the Prophet Ibrahim. He built the Kaaba in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. It’s the same Prophet, known to the Christians as Abraham and to the Jews too. He was told by God to offer sacrifice in a dream. Muslims follow this tradition every year.

On Eid day butchers are in great demand. Believe me finding a butcher is like finding a needle in a haystack. Everybody is offering sacrifice so the butcher becomes a hot commodity. They are booked days in advance. They charge exorbitant rates. You have to give according to their demand, otherwise you will have to do the slaughtering yourself, which is simply unthinkable.

One thing is truly amazing. I always get a jolt of surprise while cooking. The sacrificial meat is extremely yummy. Probably you have given the sacrifice in God’s Name.

Image and Cartoon’s Credit: Thanks to Google. Butcher

Friends And Why I Don’t Need Them

Photo Credit: Shutterstock
Please listen to Tim McGraw song, “You are my best friend.”

I have a different intake on that. Please don’t be misled by the word friend. It’s a commodity which is rare and difficult to find. You must have heard or read, “If you have a friend, you don’t need an enemy.”

Now I will come to the plural word friends. Friends are family you choose. They are the ones you need.
1. When you need help.
2. To console you, when you are unhappy.
3. To feel happy with.
4. To natter and chatter.
5. To share news.
7. And to be there for them when they need all those things.

My grey hair has taught me.

1. Friends are fickle beings.
2. When you really need their help, they don’t help. They may have repeated many times,
“Call me, if you need help.”
When you need them, they will have the perfect excuse.
3. If you tell them your secret. That secret will be known to everyone, besides the gullible you.
4. While they are consoling you in your hour of anguish, the thought uppermost in their mind will be, “Silly bi……it’s all her own doing.” Or
“She brought it upon herself.”

See, what are their thoughts!
5. You will think they are sharing your good fortune, while they will think, “I deserved it more than her.”
6. Okay to chatting, but beware no divulging your secrets. They are secrets till you tell them.
7. Sharing your good news will only bring on envy.
8. You can be there for them, but don’t expect anything in return.

The lesson learnt by me is, “No matter how much I care, friends don’t care back……..and it’s not the end of the world.” And Why I Don’t Need Them


Daily Prompt: Toy Story
What was your favorite plaything as a child? Do you see any connection between your life now, and your favorite childhood toy? Show Memento.

Memento takes me back to a life in the past, which I forgot. Through blurred memory an image of a top surfaces. It was a rather large one, and gaily painted with vibrant colors. I used to spin it quite frequently. Where it went? I don’t remember.

If I think back, with mother gone to another dimension, the top disappeared from my life.

The second toy I remember, was a doll. A ten inches high doll. I would carry it with me, when I would come back from school. It came along with me, when I would climb trees in the garden at the back of our home. Probably it liked to sit with me on high branches. It would be sitting on my lap, when I would sit on the swing. My father had put up a swing for me, which hung from a sturdy branch. When I wanted to swing higher, my doll preferred to lay down on the grass and take a nap.

Alas! Her end days came sooner than I expected. I didn’t perceive what my doll was going to face. My elder uncle and his family came to spend summer vacation with us. My cousin RA, (only God knows) what possessed him?
My doll was lying on my bed. Poor thing! She met a horrible end at RA’s hands. Her limbs were broken and face smashed. Must have done it with an evil glee. I cried rivers of tears at the sad demise of my doll. 😭. Sobbing, I buried her at the far end of our garden.

There is no connection between my life then and now.

I did make many toys for my children to play with. I am only going to mention two of them. I made a four and a half foot clown for my daughter. My daughter is a PhD in Bio Medical Engineering, but funny to say, she kept that clown by her bedside in a chair, till she got married. At night she would cover it up. In winters, she would wrap the clown with her cardigan or shawl so that it won’t feel any cold.

For my son, I made a large elephant cushion. It’s tie was always askew, cause it was thrown quite a bit, here and there. It stayed with him, till he also got married. Thank God, he doesn’t read my blog. I am really too chicken hearted, to face his wrath. 😐
Images: Thanks to Google.

Life Is What You Make It

Daily Prompt: Write a six word story about what you think the future holds for you, and then expand on it in a post.

Six words: Life is what you make it.

Life is what you make it
It isn’t what you see
You give yourself a push
And look ahead with glee

Work hard and have faith
In God Almighty
What you do will payoff
Wait and you will see

Give all and remember
Be honest and happy
Life is what you make it
Is more of how you see

Photo by Sheen Is What You Make It


My husband was posted to Multan. As usual he was sitting at some border post, while the children and I were alone, and living in Old Fort Colony. The houses were reserved for Army Officers and their families. My daughter was about a year old and son two years and nine months old.

I would try to finish my housework around ten so that the children could play outside on the patio. The kids would take out their bicycles and playthings. They would play and I would keep a watchful eye on them while knitting, sewing or doing some embroidery or other such thing. Sometimes my neighbors would come and join me. We would be chatting and drinking tea, another pastime.

I had taken out my sewing machine, and was busy stitching a dress for my daughter. Suddenly my son started crying, “Look mama, an ant has bitten me.”

I don’t know at which point he had taken off his shoes, and was running around barefoot. I hushed him and told him he was a big boy, and being bitten by an ant was nothing to cry about. In a minute he was again playing with his sister, and I returned to finish sewing.

As I was getting up, he rushed to me, excited. He held on to my hands trying to drag me towards one corner, “See mama, I have killed the ant which bit me.”
I was flabbergasted when I looked at the ant. It was not an ant but a Scorpion.

Images: Thanks to Google.

Life of Sheen

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