Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.
Every second reminds me of your smile,
the loving one!
Every hour brings a lost moment to life,
the ones made special by your presence!
Every day makes it harder to go on living,
Without your warm hugs!
Every month I reminisce a story of yours,
The one that is retold so one forgets!
Every year, I remind myself,
I survived another one without you!
Whoever said, time heals everything,
Never had a dad like you!
A decade later, my heart aches with
Anger, hurt, and jealousy
Yes, Jealousy!
Wishing you had stayed just one more..
Second
Hour
Day
Month
Decade!
I am not forgotten, like last week’s news. I live inside you somewhere hidden from the world. Away from the prying eyes. Tucked behind the façade of wisdom and resilience. I know I can stir up a lot inside of you with just those three words. I still hold that power. Change happened because it was inevitable. And not because I was inadequate. Too small to fit the world you call your own. I was bigger then and I am bigger even now. And that is why as much as you try, I will never be gone. I am the bright light that wakes you up every morning. Reminding you how incredible your life is. I am the hope that lingers inside of you. That inevitable has nothing on us, we made our choice long ago. And we live by that choice every day. I am the soft breeze that brushes over your face forcing you to stay in touch. If it is in our hearts, destiny has got nothing on us. I am not forgotten, like last week’s news. I live on. And so do you!
I am more than you see. My roots run deep holding onto the past. I am strong because I have survived. No, I have thrived. Traumas do not define me. My determination to get up and start all over again tells the real story. The ones that get overlooked under the guise of responsibilities. Because on many days, just waking up has been the biggest achievement. I am more than you see.
I am the love. The one that is taken for granted. What I deserve compared to what I get is an insult. I am the loving eyes that watch over your every step because protecting you is what I know best. I am the arms that are right around you, waiting for a sign to hug you tight. And never let go. I am the soft light guiding your way back home before it gets dark. I am that kind of love.
I am so much that words are never enough. No one appreciates the roles I play, effortlessly, happily, and lovingly. I am so much. So, stay awhile. Spend some time with me. For I am that friend you will always need.
A clogged brain in need of snaking
Stiffened fingers typing and re-typing
Delete, tap….type some more
It does not make any sense
Eyes wander searching for inspiration
Staring at the pile of dirty laundry
Writing is just a hobby, clean up a little first.
Give a rest to the polite 3 regular readers
Stinky dishes lurk in the sink
Waiting for their shower.
Warm laundry loiters around the bed
Relishing its day in the outdoors.
Eyes blink faster then slower
Reminding me that tiredness will soon take over
Leaving me blocked and incomplete
Holding a pen, making points
Something will click
An old picture,
An ignored quote,
A forgotten old story,
A musical revival.
But nothing works
So I given in and close my burning eyes.
When nights are not long enough
And days are exhausting!
When spring is cut short by the summer heat!
When long walks aren’t enough to tire the limbs!
When moments pass without becoming memories!
When music is loud, unable to devour the voices!
When I laugh with tears but all alone!
When stories are retold but never understood!
When love is reduced to small talk!
When education is restricted to bank balance!
When life changes without evolving!
When I write hoping you might read this one!
That is when I miss you the most!
A Flicker in the Dark by Stacy Willingham
A thriller about a serial killer. Story narrated from the point of view of the killer’s daughter. A page turner with twists and surprises that keep you gripped to the book. Not once it feels like the plot diverted to a random moment that wasn’t required. In fact every part of the story makes sense and leads to the final truth. I don’t want to give away anything about the plot so I will focus on the writing style. The writer uses the word ‘Flick’ so smoothly. I loved how the word ‘flicker’ would be used in a sentence gently reminding the reader, who really is in control. The writing is focused, crisp and fast paced. I could not stop reading.
Another very interesting thing about this one was how till the last 30 pages too, the story was moving forward. I have read enough thrillers to get annoyed in the last 50 pages when everything has been revealed and the author is closing the book but too slowly. This one does not stop entertaining even till the last page.
There was just one thing I wish wasn’t such a cliché. The lead female character abusing liquor and drugs. I wish more thrillers are written where the female protagonist is not drowning her rejected and scarred childhood in liquor. I mean humans have enough lingering emotional imbalances without the involvement of alcohol and prescription drugs. I don’t need to read about alcohol abuse to cope with the traumas. This is just my opinion.
In all a definite 4.5 stars for me.
Happy Reading!
Warm afternoons
Bare feet with you
Drenched in laughter
Memories wrestling with reality
You searching for alligators
Me watching out for crocodiles
Arms stretched standing on the porch
I run faster towards him
No competition there
Tap tap Tap
Searching for a flicker
A hint of love telling myself
That world was real too
With all four of us!
I am here
Not where I aspire to be
But I am here, right now
Crawling out of dark numbness
Carving paths with my bare hands
Breaking the confines of my comfort zone
No more submission
No more desperate pleads
I believe, so I try
Each day, every moment
A choice made
With calm discipline.
I will fall
I will hurt
But I won’t back down
Like a cool breeze in summer peak
Like music to lonely soul
An old feeling has sneaked up again.
I won’t stop anymore,
Even if you do!
A tiny inspiration from the song, “won’t back down” by Tom Petty. It was featured in Grey’s Anatomy and that is how it got added to my list of favorite songs. With every song an old memory creeps up, therefore to find something new (even when it is an old song) that speaks to your heart, is definitely worth writing about. I hope my list keeps growing and I never back down from the path I have taken.
happy reading!
Lurking in brightness
Sniffing through my beloved possessions
You sneered at me
Staring into my eyes
Challenging me to make the move
So, I showed you
My strength standing tall
My voice kept it loud
But to you I was nothing
A mere passing shadow
Ignorable and dull
Wandering the paths I have watered and nurtured
You turned around one more time
Glared once more turning around
Because you don’t scare easy
Walking away leaving me jittery.
A short visit by a raccoon during the daytime has clearly left me wondering about the whole nocturnal angle. So, while posting tonight, all I could think of was the long stare it gave me before walking past the deck. I mean that was insanely scary. It left me worried to the extent that I went out to pick up my girls at the bus stop first time in months holding a broom in my hand (to be used as a weapon in case the scary one came back to give me another stare).
This is a story of a girl. Wait don’t leave just yet. It is not a boring one. I promise it will be different. With a little suspense and darkness. A flash fiction like always, so I will not take too much of your time. All I want are 5 minutes of your precious life. Naina started talking without giving Dev a chance to even react.
‘There was a girl who loved walking barefoot everywhere. Her explanation was she wanted to feel the authenticity of the crude and hard ground. Even when her parents told her to limit her barefoot walks to gardens, indoors or on beaches, she never understood their over-protective attitude. Wasn’t it her mom who always said,” my job is to raise you strong enough so you can maneuver in this world by yourself”? So why the fuss? She was going to go out on her own one day when she was old enough. Then who was going to stop her from walking barefoot. No one had the power to convince the not-so-tiny girl who was now a teenager.’
“See, I told you it will be a quick story. It has already jumped over a decade. Please don’t close your eyes yet. I know you are tired but this one is truly a good one. I promise. Are you listening?” Naina gently kicked Dev’s tired legs forcing him to keep his eyes open. As if he needed eyes more than ears to listen to her narrate yet another story.
He lovingly replied, but with eyes shut. “I am tweety. I am wide awake. Go on. I am listening to all you have to say about the girl who loved walking barefoot. And now she is a badass bare feet teenager, probably in the need of too many tetanus shots.”
“Aarrgghh! Stop bringing in logic. It is a story. I write fiction.”
“Flash fiction.” He corrected her.
“Fine then. I am not telling you the story anymore. You don’t even like reading, so why should I bother at all?”
“You are right.”
“What? Do you think I am a talentless hack?”
With eyes wide open trying to hug Naina, Dev spoke, “Wait, when did I say that? Let me talk.” Putting his hand gently on her babbling mouth he smiled hiding his laugh underneath.
“You are a talented writer and I love listening to your stories. But tonight, I will be listening with my ears and not my eyes. So, keep talking. And do not stop until you reach the end.”
Naina mumbled again something under his sweaty palm. But her eyes said it all.
“Please, don’t ever say, I think less of you. You are an amazing writer. Black coffee is my favorite one. “
“That day you said, ‘sweatshirt’ was your favorite story by me. I mean how am I to believe anything you say?” Yet another question by Naina.
“So, what happened when she was a teenager walking bare feet.”
“Oh ya! So as I was narrating.”
‘The girl grew up to be a shoe-hater. Until one night, when there was a storm. A devastating one. Her parents had to stop midway while driving back from work and take shelter in the local motel. Trees had broken branches hanging like un-socketed limbs. Barely hanging on to the roots, plants and bushes were bent in ungodly shapes turning the beautiful green garden into the morgue of garish and dismantled twisted bodies. Laying around the yard seething with pain and fear. The girl stared out through the glass doors. Noticing how the debris smashed on the glass announcing their arrival unable to get inside. She opened the doors and walked out to feel the wind and rain on her face. But immediately felt the fear of becoming one of the mangled bushes. So, she closed the door turning all the lights on walking barefoot toward each corner of the living room. Only when she got to the third lamp did she notice the footprints her bare feet had made all over the dark mahogany wooden floor. And for the first time, she lost her grip and fell to the floor staring at the prints. They were all hers only backward. All leading to the glass sliding door. Her own bare feet were leaving footprints behind, forcing her to walk backward to the outdoors. Into the storm. Into the mangled and broken branches. Destroyed flower beds and broken fences. She gasped and picked herself up running to the closet. Only when her feet were safe inside her mother’s rainboots did she turn around to find no more of her backward footprints. Just mud slithering off the boots settling on the floor for her mom to fuss about in the morning.’
“So, what did you think?”
“Spooky.”
“Isn’t it? I love the twist. Ok, I have another one. Are you listening?”
“Of course, I am. And were you sipping white or red while writing this one?”
“Oh, I think it was tequila that night. Wait a minute, what do you mean? Is it that bad?”
“Not at all, it gave me goosebumps. I’m sure mothers will use this story to teach their kids to wear shoes all the time.”
It was all quiet for 15 seconds, until Dev’s not so bare head was smacked with a silver-colored satin pillowcase filled with a firm pillow and love.
The night ended after yet another storytelling session, entwined with laughter and bare feet.
I wish I had you.
Edgy, forceful, and assertive
Turning heads to watch you perform
A daring facade oozing with oomph
Your words and my story
No one to stop us
You and I
Against the world
Writing our own destiny.
Our bodies in sync
My arched back
Fingers entwined in yours
Raised above all
Moving to our secret rhythm
You and I.
A force to reckon with.
I wish I could be with you.
Right here right now.
With no care or scare
Holding you tight
Click-clack
Clickety-clack
Typing a thought I just had…
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 