Rain, fog and Sun

In rain, these flowers looked magical.

In these past days when one after another, rain, fog and sun appeared, this week for me has become memorable.

On Monday evening, it rained.

Weather was so pleasant on that day that I who normally hate getting wet in rain, asked my niece to come and join me outside. 

A puddle was formed on street and I didn’t mind standing in it.

Water found its way inside my sneakers and my socks got wet.

At that moment, I looked at my niece who was enjoying playing with leaf in water, she was considering it a boat.

On seeing that, I decided to enjoy the moment anyway and allowed water to find more ways to wet my socks.

Reflection of trees in water on street looked beautiful.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were cold and foggy days. They didn’t allow us to explore much outside.

Even this Saturday morning there was fog in sky but later sun appeared with all its might.

Under the canopy of yellow shine, earth got warm and calm today.

This is an outside view of library. While taking this picture, I inhaled the sweet fragrance of yellow flowers in air.

Sitting in a park observing shades of sunlight on grass, I thought how different facets of Mother Nature has successfully allowed themselves to fuse in a single week.

When it rained, it was cool.

When there was fog, driving was difficult and today with the sprinkle of golden sunshine on earth, each and everything regained its lost vigour.

Divinity in its might is kind and diverse, It has many colors. If a certain day is dull than a next day can become fun.

Brilliant integration of fog, rain and sun has made this week beautiful for me.

Even Jack and Jill while fetching water from well were also looking happy today.

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Word of the day: Integrated

Eating habits of birds in my home

This black-rumped flameback is a guest of winter in my home.

Outside on the wall of my home, three clay pots are placed. Two out of three hold bird seeds while the third one which is placed right in front of kitchen window remains full of food which comes straight from stove.

With the exception of doves and pigeons; myneahs, starlings, sparrows, crows and bulbul all love to eat bread.

Rice is a favorite staple food of birds and it has become a common norm in home that whatever is cooking in the form of rice, before going to dining table, first goes straight outside in that pot above the wall.

Glass of the windows are such that we can observe the birds outside but a bird sitting near the window is only able to see its reflection in it.

It happens that whenever food gets finish, birds make different types of sounds.

With time we have learned to discern these voices.

When hungry, they make short sounds. When need help from cat, they sound excited and their voices are shrill. When they like food, their sound is soft and happy.

At times, they come near the kitchen window and look inside as if they’re in search of extinct food.

Crows and Starlings waste bread and seeds but squirrels are careful to pick every tiny bit of food from floor and wall.

Watching squirrels eating food is a delightful experience.

When they’re eating, sometimes they put one foot in pot while their other foot is down on the wall and in such funny pose, they like to eat with great attention.

These last days of January are cold and foggy.

Birds are finding little to no food and they’re coming in large number to eat. So, it happens that when I put crush bread slices outside, the pot gets empty in no time.

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This post is in response to RDP Saturday: Extinct

My brother

Thank you Dorothy for this lovely picture

December 2, 1997

Today, Alen woke me up early. He knew well that I slept late in night but all he care about is discipline in life.

At times, he’s bossy but mother is always on his side and has given him every right to bring discipline in my life.

How could a big brother be so ruthless in waking his younger brother for a bicycle ride and that too seven in the morning?

I read somewhere that a child’s prayer is readily heard. God please help and take my brother away from me, he’s strict and I want freedom in my life…”

August 9, 2017

I just saw an old note in diary. Twenty years ago, I didn’t know the importance of Allen in my life and today when I bid him farewell, I realized his importace in my life.

Alen was my big brother, he was my friend but more than anything else he was the son of soil.

Thank you Alen for making me what I am today

May you Rest in peace bro

(174 words)

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The above story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by PricelessJoy.

Treasure the moment

His last conversation

His faint whisper and shaky voice

Now etched on my mind

Nothing is precious in life

Just few moments for loved one’s

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Image Courtesy: healthyplace.com

This post is in response to Colleen Chesebro weekly Tanka Challenge

 

Fate & stars

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.

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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

Apple-pie order

photo by Baher Khairy via Unsplash

When I opened the door of my room, I saw my three year and four year daughters were looking afraid.

I followed their gaze and on seeing the crumpled bed sheet, I smiled.

Later, when I joined my daughters in their adventure of jumping on my bed, they were amazed but I knew that it was necessary for I learned that things place in apple-pie order appear nice to eyes but at times too much order can makes it difficult to breath.

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It’s been a while that I read some research on the importance of a bit of clutter in life. I too like to keep things in order but I’ve also noticed that too much obsession for neatness and order can make life really tough.

Above three lines are not directly link to the picture but in the morning when I was thinking to write some post on this topic, I though of nothing but the word apple-pie order.

This post is in response to Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Four by Sonya.

 

Thanks and beginning

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.

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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.

Creative day

Sound of lawn mower

Singing myna, hopping sparrows

My haven for writing,

Embracing this form of day

I have fallen in love with life.

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Lately, I’ve been noticing this change in my writing habit that stillness of night creates hindrance in my creative writing process. During the day when there’s the sound of life on the street outside my home, my mind remains active.

This morning, when I could hear the sound of lawn mower in my neighbor’s garden and twittering of sparrows on my terrace, I was thinking nothing but this very line that “I’m in love with life”.

This post is response to Silver’s Weekly #Tanka #Poetry Prompt Challenge #5 SHAPES & HEART.

For heart I’ve used love and for shapes, I’ve used form.

Image Courtesy: flickr.com

My lighthouse

On my way back to home, I was worried and I was tense, yet I smiled the moment I saw that bright face boy.

I know when sunlight fades, darkness emerges, it is part of nature; we can’t change it but the thing which could be changed is the way we look towards life and I feel no shame in admitting that a ten-year-old boy has recently taught me this lesson.

I’m happy and I admit that the image of that boy on wheel-chair would always act as a light-house in my life.

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This post is in response to Three Line Tales, Week Thirty-Eight by Sonya. The photo for this challenge is provided by William Bout.

 

 

 

A note in diary

My dreams of getting married to a prince charming got shattered the day when my quiet nature husband entered in my life. I was young and in those early days of my marriage being lively, I was expecting him to show same kind of emotions but when he didn’t speak much, it made me angry. In those moments of my severe anger, he would simply smile and preferred to read books in his library.

With the passage of time; I started developing feelings of hatred for his books. To this day, I can’t believe how could I thought in that way but on that morning when I entered in library with the aim to hide his books, I saw his diary was placed on desk. I knew it was wrong but curiosity engulfed my mind and with the strange feelings of discovering an unknown land, I started reading his diary.

Previous night, he was writing

“Anna, my love of life is young and naïve. I don’t know what sort of love is this but I like her more when she fights with me. I don’t know how to express but I love her a lot…”

As my lips curled in a smile, a tear fell from my eye.

It’s been a while and today I know life is not a fairy-tale. Brian is still a man of quite nature but I don’t complain much for I know if he cares about me then he sure loves me.

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This post is in response to Sunday Photo Fiction – October 9th 2016 by Sunday Fiction