Tag Archives: sketch

The Intense Joy

Daily Prompt: Intense
Describe the last time you were surprised by the intensity of a feeling you had about something, or were surprised at how strongly you reacted to something you thought wouldn’t be a big deal.


My husband was an old fashioned person. He believed that women shouldn’t drive. For years when he was sitting somewhere guarding our borders, I would be sitting housebound waiting for him to come home, so that I could run my errands. Later on when he became a senior officer, I had no dearth of drivers. Once he retired my situation detoriated.

I was again dependent on him for driving me for various things. It irked me to no end. If I went for shopping I was expected to finish in two to three hours. Within this time limit I bought groceries, fitted in doctor’s appointments (if I had any) and other things waiting to be done. Shopping for my own needs got pushed time and again to another day. I would be left frustrated.

In the year he was to go for heart surgery I begged and cajoled for a car of my own. Finally he relented and bought me the car of my choice.

You can’t imagine my immense joy and overwhelming happiness at getting a brand new car of my own. It was INTENSE.

The Intense Joy


My Writing Space

Tell about your writing space. Where do you write your blog posts?


While I was leaving my own home to come and live with my son, I left my laptop behind. Actually I was going to bring it with me. At the last moment weighing the two bags and a carry on I found my luggage over the allowed weight. That left me with no option but to leave behind some items I had packed. One of them was my laptop. On my long and tiring journey here I didn’t want to pick anything else other than my shoulder bag.

My writing space consists of my bed and a chair. When I am feeling lazy I prop my three pillows behind my back and start writing. I use my iPad to write. On an iPad I can’t drag things on a page. In Windows you have the option to open many pages. On an iPad you can’t do it. I can’t position my images or photos. I don’t even know how my page will look with photos till it is published. Sometimes the images are disproportionate with relation to each other. I do get aghast at the resulting mess I create. Oh God! What have I done? That is my reaction most of the time.

In normal routine I pull a chair near my bed. Open the notebook in which I have written the topic and begin my blog. When I want to draw that takes a lot of time. Sometimes the result is good but at times I am flustered or something so my time gets wasted and I throw whatever I draw into the waste paper basket. This is a recent past time. I used to get images from the Internet for my blog and still do. I left my camera behind too, but I should confess it wasn’t much of a camera. My son has very kindly given me his camera. I haven’t got the hang of it so maybe I should spend time on it to learn.

Mostly I use the iPad camera to get photos. It doesn’t give you much leverage. Anyway something is better than nothing. On the plus side my son has shifted an old PC to my room. Once it is reformatted and virus free probably I will be able use it. I think I shouldn’t elevate my hopes to a high degree, otherwise they can be dashed to the ground and I may not be able to get over my disappointment.

My Writing Space


A Cure For Cancer

Daily Prompt: Placebo Effect
If you could create a painless, inexpensive cure for a single ailment, what would you cure and why?


If it was possible and I could create a painless, inexpensive cure for a single ailment I would go for cancer.

Last year on 2nd Aug 2012 my husband died of cancer. He was diagnosed in Feb 2011 with Signet Ring Carcinoma of stomach. It’s the worse form of cancer.

I have seen first hand what cancer does to a person. The heartache, misery with which one goes through is immense.

My tall, handsome husband became a thin, shriveled, bald headed man. The pain and agony with which he coped was heartbreaking for me.

When I looked at him I would feel miserable at what he was going through. Several times a day I would cry. I would try not to cry in front of him but at times the tears would spill down my cheeks, when I looked at him or was helping him. Even now I am crying at the terrible and dreadful time in my life.

I hope a cure is found. I have read it that a cure has been discovered, but the pharmacy industry and cancer specialists don’t want it known. How will these people forgo to line up their already filled to the brim coffers with more dough from the sick and dying humanity?

A Cure For Cancer


Daily Prompt: Conflicted
You’re in the middle of a terrible argument, and everyone turns to you to help resolve it. How do you respond? How do you react to conflict?


Last night a conflict was going on at our dinning table.
I B was slow as is usual with him at eating his dinner. His parents were going to their friend’s place. I B wanted to go with them. The only drawback was that he wasn’t finished with his food.

He eats very slowly. He forgets the food in his mouth. Often he and Sn are bantering with each other. I B is slower than a turtle. Once a bite reaches his mouth it lodges itself permanently in one cheek, more often the right one. It stays there.

If you are there you will keep on saying:
Eat I B.
We all are getting finished.
We will leave without you. The threatening notice.
We are getting late.
Please finish quickly.

I B ‘s response:
Sigh a weary sigh, as if the weight of the world is on his tired shoulders.
Maybe transfer the lodged food to the other cheek.
Oblivious to what everyone is saying.
Sn jumps into the foray with saying something and I B responds with a sling back.

Yesterday my son took over and said, ” We are going to shoot your video and put it on uTube.”

I B instantly dissolved into tears with the bite as large as a golf ball still in his mouth. Huge tears fell down his cheeks.
Sn was taunting, “Uhuh … you will be on uTube. Everyone will see it.”

I told Sn to be quiet and told I B, ” Nobody is making a video. See there is no camera.”

It took sometime to stop his tears.