A roundup of great reads

great reads

Like something delicious to eat, writers are always looking for something sweet to read.

Writing 101 prompt asks me to share a round up of great posts which I’ve read this week. I’ll be honest, this past week I didn’t read much blogs but these are some of the posts which I love to share with you.

Cab drivers and maps

Amanda author of the blog mandibelle16 shared her experience of travelling in cabs. It’s a brilliant write up which shows her deep observation of her surroundings. I like the natural flow of her thoughts and here is a link to her post


The Deeper Purple

Nicodemas  author of the blog Ancient Skies  writes this beautiful poem. The depth, magic and the use of beautiful imagery are all very inspiring. Here is a link to his post


Letters to Heaven

Hayley author of the blog  Dear Dad writes this heart warming post. A worth read tribute to her late father. I love the way she express her feelings and I’m sure that reading it will left your eyes teary. Here is a link to her post


Truth about marriage

Brey author of blog Ordinary Adventures shares her thoughts about her married life. The mere reading of this post will keep you glued to your seats and you’ll end up hitting the follow button on her blog.

Here is a link to her post




Attock:a bird’s eye view

Attock formerly known as “Campbellpur” is a small and beautiful city of lovely people. Maybe it’s my natural inclination towards my maternal family but I’ve always felt nostalgic feelings for this city.

attock city
Road covered with Sheesham trees (Pictures near Attock city)

I can recall all those pleasure trips to my late grandmother’s house. In those days, the eight hour long journey usually left us tired and by the end we used to make our mother annoyed by asking repeatedly the same question

“How much time before we reached?”

For me, the very names of river Haro and the light grey Kala chitta mountain range hold a sweet scent of love and care.

kalla chitta mountains
Kala Chitta mountain range
river haro
River Haro

In my memories, my grandma’s house thrives as a warm and cozy place which wholeheartedly embraced the large family of more than thirty people. The veranda was large and in that sunlit place of home, we children remained busy in playing for long hours.

In front of the house there was a market. There were some shops of cobblers and all day long we could hear the hammering sound of their tools but in the evening as soon as the color of the sky turned black, the loud bang of shutters announced the closure of market.

In the small city of Attock, people wake up early in the morning and when the sun is still yawning, the city streets burst into life.

natural beauty pictures of attock
Beautiful view of city

Attock is a city of largehearted people where residents are tightly knit with each other.The educational institutions in this “home of gunners” are best. This is a land of brave people and I feel proud to be associated with this city.

cadet college attock


Writing 101: A map as a muse

photo credit: pictures.org.es

Things we leave behind


Heidi by Johanna Spyri is an excellent work of literature. I remember reading it in my childhood and the process of rereading it brought tears in my eyes. I assume Heidi was a lucky girl that finally got reunited with her grandfather but everyone is not as lucky as Heidi.

I’ll be honest, I’m really trying hard to put off all those old memories aside but I had little control over my subconscious. So, in spite of all my struggles, the memories of my old home always find their way in my dreams.

Like Heidi’s house my home also appeared to gleam in golden sunshine. I can vividly recall the beauty of those green shrubs and flowery bushes. How can I forget those sweet songs of sparrows and how can I neglect those green leaves that were home to many birds?

Like Heidi, I was associated with that home. That house meant everything to me. Those walls were my best friends. Playing, fighting and studying together, we spent a long span of sixteen years together.

The place witnessed many special moments of my life. I moved into that house as a school girl and left that place as a university graduate.

Those were some sad prospects in which we had to leave that place and while typing these words on my laptop, I’m sure that Heidi and I’ve got one thing in common and that is our love for our home.

Heidi beats me as she succeeds in getting back to her home.


writing 101 prompt: Things we leave behind

The magic of poetry


If we’re having a coffee session right now then I would love to tell you that how much I felt afraid of poetry and the long list of poets in the paper of “American literature” was haunting me but on reading John Ashbury’s Melodic Train and Sylvia Plath’s Ariel, I started to enjoy its beauty.

I remember reading Daffodils in my school days. It’s been a long time and this morning I decided to read it again. So, sitting on my bed I made myself comfortable with pillows on my back. I placed headphones in my ears and with the single click of the mouse, magic of daffodils started to play.

Would you like to feel the same magic?


I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.


Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.


The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:


For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
writing 101: update your readers on a cup of coffee

Recreate a single day

Today, the dull rays of winter sun were looking pale and I was feeling tired of that cold and dreary environment in home.

Never before, I had ever saw my father so tense. My paternal uncle living in a far country was ill and my father’s agitation was on its peak.

He didn’t take his breakfast properly nor did he ate his lunch. In the evening we all tried hard and with much effort we succeeded to persuade him to eat.

Later, mother told us that father cares about his brother and their bond of love was so strong. She asked us to pray and then much awaited phone call ended my father’s tension.

My cousin informed us that uncle was feeling better.

It’s late in the night and when I’m scribbling down my thoughts in my diary, I can’t help thinking about today’s developments. I had a vague memory of that day when in search of better future my father decided to leave his country.

Uncle was against that idea and today on observing my father’s agitation, I came to understand the meaning of fraternal love.

The other day, I was reading the poem “Melodic train” and was finding it hard to concentrate upon its theme but the developments of this day have cleared my queries.

Today, the melodic train of our lives encountered a dangerous curve on its track. Right now, I can hear my father’s snoring. Thanks God he’s relax now.

I’m happy that all is well and I hope that tomorrow will be a different day.

melodic train


Writing 101 prompt: Recreate a single day


Let the scene write itself


An old clock is hanging on the wall of my room. This replica of cuckoo clock has lost its pendulum and sitting on the perch of the clock’s window the old wise owl is quiet now.

It’s ten in the morning and looking at the sky, I can see the pale yellow sunshine which is a sign that winter season is slowly creeping in.

Outside, sitting on the hanging line, the sparrows are chirping. My mother is in a habit of placing bird’s seeds and they’re here to eat them.

Right now when I’m typing these words on my laptop, I’m thinking of the university building situated at the back side of my home. The construction work is in progress and the hammering sounds are disturbing me. The building is not far and I can hear the builders are laughing and talking with each other.

In a street there’s a cart vendor. His voice is loud but I swear it’s not clear. He has made his own tune and without stopping he’s shouting the names of his vegetables. I can hear the doors opening and the women are gathering around him . They all are demanding fresh vegetables.

Here, sitting on my bed, I’m hearing all these beautiful sounds. I love this time in the morning. For me, morning is so dull without any such noise 🙂


writing 101 prompt: let the scene write itself

The Space to Write

space to write

The calmness of morning and stillness of night are my best friends and my dear laptop accompanies me in my process of writing.

It reminds me of my wonderful experience of writing a story. Once, there was a picture prompt given and my mind was totally blank. All day long, I tried hard to come up with some idea but to no avail.

On that night when I went to sleep, my mind started to work. Lying on bed, I grab hold of pencil and paper and with eyes closed, I just started to write.

The morning light unveiled the mess on paper but it opened the closed window of my mind and once I started typing, I never stopped.

Truth be told, I’m still practicing it and whenever I have a feeling that I’m getting short of ideas, I just close my eyes and relax my mind and at that very moment the film like motion of my words started to play in my mind.

Trust me this practice is really helpful.


Written for Writing 101 prompt: The space to write

Why I write


I won’t say that reading and writing run in my family but leafing through the pages of my memory book, I’ve found that I and my sister inherited the habit of reading from our father. I don’t know when and how I started to write but I remember that I’ve always found comfort in creative writing.

Throughout my academic career, reading and writing remained my plus points but I never took them seriously.

And then a remarkable change came in my life when I studied for my competitive exams. I didn’t succeed but in the process, I rediscovered my love for writing. That was the first time that I read the book “Alchemist” and the moment I realized the importance of dreaming, everything got changed.

Today, I’m thankful to this world of blogging because it has given me an excuse for reading.

The mere feeling that I’m here to share my ideas with the world is so calming. I like to scribble down my thoughts because I love sharing.

I’m writing and I’ll continue to write because writing has changed my process of thinking.


Writing 101 prompt: why I write

A story in a single image

steering wheel

Lapse in concentration proved fatal; control of the steering wheel was never regained.


writing 101 day 4

Speeding, fatigue, non use of seat belts and texting while driving are some of the major reasons behind road accidents.


That’s how I define hope!

Moment the cold and dreary night ends the soft and bright morning emerges. I find hope in a golden gleam of a kind sun which sparkles to illuminate my path.

golden sunshine

I can hear the whisper of those pearls of wisdom which reminds me that in difficult hours of my life, I’m not alone. I find hope in books.


Watching the moments of extreme passion often energizes me and I become hopeful for a bright future.


Our dreams, aspirations, desires and wishes provide an excuse for the continuation of life. The life which will end in the absence of all these elements is beautiful. So, take a deep breath and embrace this precious moment of life.

Open your eyes and seize the moment because life is all about to remain hopeful.

free fall


Written for writing 101 prompt

Image credit: Google Image