We Were The Stars

Daily Prompt: The Cat Says Meow

Write a story about yourself from the perspective of an object, thing, animal, or another person.
Show Perspective.

An e- mail from my plants to me.

Dear Sheen, Our Sad Nods To You.

You would open the outside door, down the steps you would come, and greet us all. It was a sight, dear to our hearts. It would be evening time. The sun who scorched us during day, would be leaving to take a nap.

We would sway in the light sprinkling of water with which you would quench our thirst.

Your smiling face haunt us now. Just see, when you were here, we never thought you will abandon us for such a long period. We thought we were the moons, we were the stars in your existence. What happened to us? We miss you. Don’t you miss us?

Last year when Mr.R was having Chemo, the most you used to be away was two weeks or a month.

You have left us at the mercy of Mrs.A, who occasionally peeps out at us, from behind the curtains. She doesn’t have any time for us. She never comes out and talk to us. We are sad and disillusioned.

You would be talking all the time to us, examining us and removing dead foliage. You would be dead heading faded blossoms, your face flushed with the exertion, removing damaged leaves and stems. Your looking after us, kept us healthy.

Your brown hair would be falling on your face, while you bent to peer at us. At moments like those, you would forget your aching back, which hurts a lot we know. You would remove the slimy slugs and beastly snails, accompanied with jumping back, and low shrieks of Eee…….. , so that the next door neighbors won’t hear you.. The snails have punched holes in the Lilies’ leaves now.

The Geraniums are looking pathetic with brown leaves. We all look the same with tattered foliage.

The lilies of the Valley are overcrowded in their pots. The Palms have cracked their containers. You have to come and fetch new pots for them. The Ferns look pale now. We hope they survive till you come back to us.

Your Chinese Grass is over run with weeds. The weeds are having a jolly good time, if you ask our opinion. Nobody takes care of us like you used to do. Please come back soon. Waiting, your Loving Plants.
We Were The Stars

Images: Thanks to Google


My Precious Nose

Daily Prompt: Super Sensitive

If you are forced to give up one sense, but gain super – sensivity in another, which sense would you choose? Show Sensitive.

The five senses all humans have are sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. Some people have the sixth sense, which is called the kinesthetic sense.

My sense of smell is pretty weird.

Let me explain.

I suffer from sensitivity to dust and allergens in the air. If there is dust or any such thing, I start sneezing. My nose starts running. At moments like these I become desperate.

Desperate about what?

I quickly exhaust tissues which normally I carry around, and desperately start looking for a supply of further tissues. In the meantime I keep sneezing, and my precious nose drips like a tap turned fully opened. It is a must for me to carry a wad of tissues, not knowing when the dam will burst open.

I had a round of vaccines, medicine and other remedies told by helpful relatives and friends. The vaccines helped the first time, but other doses failed. Taking Anti Histamines made me dopey. Other than making me sleep all the time, when I stopped taking them the full works returned. I gave up and started having copious amounts of Green Tea and honey, as per advices of my well wishers. This amounted in failure too.

I do have a problem. Most of the time I am breathing through my mouth, as the nose I am blessed with, clogs over. I am sipping alarming amounts of water to slake my thirsty throat. The funny thing is, if there is a bad smell, the nose sort of wakes up from it’s slumber and it starts working.

My husband, the eternal joker he was, liked to joke about my nose. He would wave his dirty socks or his sport shirts, drenched with sweat in front of my face, and I would be trying to escape the dreadful smell.

So, if I give up my sense of smell, I would crave the sixth sense. It will be a wonderful ability to sense things before they happen. I would love it, if my sixth sense becomes super sensitive. My sixth sense works to a certain degree. Like before anything happens, I have a dream. When I get up in the morning, I do get a vague feeling that something has happened or is going to happen.

Imagine if I could sense things about other people, won’t I become a famous person? People would come to me for help.

Aspirations aside, I am perfectly happy as I am, and thankful to God.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/16/daily-prompt-sensitive/My Precious Nose

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.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/14/daily-prompt-bookworm/The 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.”
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/13/daily-prompt-wrong/Friends 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.

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