Putting blame on fate
I found problems in others
I remained but blind,
Time was cruel to tell me late
Fault was never with my stars.
This post is in response to Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka #Poetry Prompt Challenge #10 – FATE & STARS by COLLEEN CHESEBRO.
Image Courtesy: http://tajci.net/blog_post
Each day is a hope
In every morning there is scope
When duties become tough
Early morning sun gives me strength
I feel blessed to start new day.
This post is in response to Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka #Poetry Prompt Challenge #9 – THANKS & BEGINNINGS.
Thanks reminds me of being blessed and for me beginning is a fresh start, I’ve used new for the word beginning here.
November 18, 2016
In these past five years, I had been living in a house where in the absence of any kind of traffic noise, my ears got accustomed to hearing nothing but songs of birds.
The window of my room which was on the first floor of that small double story home opened in terrace, my blogging journey started in that room. So, while hearing the chirping of sparrows and observing the shades of sunlight filtering through the green leaves, my mind started to work and my fingers never failed to keep pace with it.
It’s been a week that we have moved to a new place. This new home is better; it’s bigger and airy but the thing which is disturbing me is traffic on road. All day long, I can hear the noise of motorbikes, cars and buses outside. Previously, my house was located on a street where during the day children remained busy in playing cricket and sitting in my room and while working in the kitchen, I could hear the sound of moving tricycle which was a signal that twins had come on street.
Trying to remain optimistic, I can take this traffic outside my home as movement of life but if there exists any difference between that noise of children on that street and this noise of vehicles here then it’s nothing but the fact that in that crying and laughing voices of children on street, I found hope and this sound of traffic reminds me of moving life which remains indifferent to its surrounding.
November 21, 2016
It’s eleven ten in the morning when here in my bedroom sitting on my bed, I can observe sunlight coming through window and making shades on my bed. These days when nights are getting cold, days are also losing their warmness and when I can hear the footsteps of winter approaching, I am enjoying this golden sunshine in my bedroom.
Three days ago while writing, I was kind of sad about change in my environment but right now I think that sometimes change is good. For the change negates the concept of monotonous life, it keeps us alive.
On October 26, I wrote this poem Creative day and then got busy and didn’t find time for writing. Today, when I’ve finally get my internet connection back, I’m posting what I’ve written and saved on my laptop.
On November 18, I was down in dumps and this very morning when I was observing the shades of sunlight, I could find myself in high spirits. I ‘m posting what I was feeling and while re-reading these thoughts, I’m convinced that nature can evoke different feelings in us, I’m happy that this morning, golden gleam of November sunlight helped me in getting back to writing.
On hearing that she looked like a pink rose, Granny would smile her trade-mark smile.
She loved to remain active and when other women spend their time in gossiping, Granny preferred to remain in kitchen.
Those were some interesting circumstances in which our first interaction took place. After two weeks of my marriage, my husband called me from office and told me that he was bringing some guests for dinner. I was inexperienced in cooking and on receiving that news, I started crying. Granny lived next to my house, and on hearing me crying like a child, she at once took responsibility of preparing dinner for me.
I remember, everything in her home was clean and it won’t be an exaggeration if I’ll write that her kitchen was sparkling. I saw her pantry and comparing it with my own at home, I felt ashamed of myself. Milk, spices, nuts and boxes were placed in such an order that even a blind person could find them easily. On that day, I not only learned how to cook but I also learned the importance of keeping things in order.
It’s been a while and these days when Granny is ill, I’m not only sending her flowers but also sending her this picture of my pantry.
I know, on receiving these gifts she would smile her trade-mark smile.
This post is in response to FFfAW Challenge – Week of October 11, 2016 by Priceless Joy. Thanks Maria for providing this beautiful image.
There’s a scene in a Home Alone movie where the family members after getting late from their flight were shown running on airport. Today, we were not on airport but when mother was worried about cooking food and I and my sister needed to get shoes; on entering mart in order to save time, we all three were mentally prepared for running.
It was twelve in the noon when we left home for market. Father wanted to have food prepared for some colleagues in his office and to make some special dish, mother needed to get chicken and vegetables for kitchen.
The shoe shop was on the way to mart and though, time was short, I and my sister also accompanied mother. First my sister bought some canvas shoes for her college. Now, she’s never satisfied and takes long in choosing shoes and when after spending some twenty minutes she finally chose her shoes, I and my mother took a sigh of relief.
Later, on entering mart we grab hold of trolley and noticing the presence of people, we dropped the idea of running and opted for brisk walking.
At one moment, when I and my mother were moving trolley, I asked my sister to lend a hand but she being a medical student refused saying that it seemed as if some orderlies are moving stretcher in hospital.
Nonetheless, I admired her foresightedness.
In normal circumstances mother like a stroll in park prefer to spend some time in observing things in mart but today when the clock was ticking fast, we all three took hold of bags and started putting vegetables in them.
The scene was something like this, I was asking, “Where’re cucumbers?” and my sister getting panicked was saying, “I can’t find coriander!” and then we both helping each other running to get our desired vegetables.
Today, it felt as if the counter boy was not willing to work and escalators appeared as if they were not moving at all.
Back at home, I helped my mother and when the clock struck two p.m. the food was ready to serve.
With lots of running, it was a day full of fun and excitement and right now when I’m recalling the events of this day, I’m convinced that we need not to waste our time in searching for happiness, for these are little moments and unexpected events that can bring laughter in our lives.
(I and my sister preferred different shoe shops and on the way back home, I also got shoes for myself 🙂 )
Stories are on streets, stories are on leaves but my story is different, it’s been weaved in yarn sweater. Thirty years ago, my grandma made it for me and today when my daughter wore it, it was still looking new.
Never before in my life, I had ever realized but it’s true that at times, tales of love and care become immortal.
This post is in response to Three Line Tales, Week Thirty-Three by Sonya. The photo is a courtesy to Philip Estrada.
The lady cradling her new born child in a picture is my mother and the other woman whose arm is visible as if she’s pointing at something was my grandmother. I can assume that my grandmother was looking anxious about the head of the newborn which was quite high in my mother’s arm.
It was the warm and calm day of March 1982 when this picture was taken.
There are many old pictures in my home but I like this most. It has this magical sensation that every time when I’m down in dumps, a look at the sunlit veranda and the mere glimpse of the shades of leaves on the wall behind my mother, rejuvenates my soul and sensing the pride in the eyes of young mother and feeling the confidence in her posture makes me smile.
Standing in front of Pomelo tree and holding her first born child, my mother is looking proud of herself.
