The Beginning of An End

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

Began a new year and with it a new start

The journey was long and exhausting

Some moments sad, some memories long lasting

A new year cometh again; for the moon, this time, let us dart.

Written as part of the Limerick Challenge:The End in loving memory of 2015 which brought with some good moments and some terrible ones, some victories and some losses. Here’s wishing everyone a rocking 2017!


A 100 Words Micro Fiction

Here I am sharing a short story I wrote long back, in response to a prompt given by Short Story Lovers’ Facebook Page. I had even forgotten about it. Only now when it came up on my notifications recently, because someone clicked ‘like’ on it, did I remember that I had written it quite some time ago.

The prompt wasUntitled.jpg
He held her hand and gently caressed it. Just like he always had for the past fifty years. Only now she didn’t reciprocate. Only now her eyes didn’t gaze back into his. Only now she didn’t giggle or blush like she had every time. Someone stepped forward and gently pulled him away even as they fought back their own tears. It was their lovely daughter.
He looked up at the young girl and was reminded of her – the one who refused to even look at him now. He sighed, wiped his tears away and stepped back.
A few moments later, the casket was closed and lowered into the ground.

Did you like the story? How would you have written the story further? Do share your comments and feedback via the comment box below.

The Case of the Broken Spectacles

Rajan stood with his ear to the door. Only when he was sure he heard a soft snore, indicating the occupants were fast asleep, did he straighten up.  He rolled his shoulders back and took in a long deep breath. It was time to put his plan into action. Continue reading “The Case of the Broken Spectacles”

Daddy’s Princess

“No!” Aisha giggled.

Mark checked his speed-o-meter again. “No? You sure?” He asked her, sticking his tongue out even more.

“Daddy, noooo.” Aisha giggled again. “Still no doggy,” she said, flapping the large ragged doll in her hands for emphasis.

“Okay, No.” He laughed. “What about a horse?” Checking the rear-view mirror, he cautiously overtook the slow trailer in front of him. She watched as they sped past the trailer. She stood on her knees and looked at it through the rear windscreen as it got smaller and smaller, finally disappearing completely. Continue reading “Daddy’s Princess”

Colourful Excuses

While going through some old posts, I realized that there are two drafts that remain unpublished. Wondering why and when I wrote these but here is the first one.

Clearly the spaceship’s been hovering above for too long.


When a random comment triggers off a limerick, there’s no other choice but to publish it, especially when the threat of a pointing gun already looms large. Don’t believe me, just check the comment exchange here. 😛

The resulting limerick ? Here it is. Continue reading “Colourful Excuses”

The Green Monster’s Visit


I’m super envious,

Of those who’ve been victorious.

In the challenge of limericks,

That gave every poet inspirational kicks.

My spot in top 4 hopefully now makes others jealous!

Do you think I am as pathetic at writing poems as I seem to be? What limerick would you write for the prompt  – envy? Do let me know your thoughts via the comment box below.



As usual, I write for fun and very foolishly I share a photo with some underworld elements and instantly a gun gets pointed to my head asking me to post it. So, the below post is being published under extreme duress and much against my wishes. I hope the Inter-Galactic Society for Injustice to Aliens is watching and taking note of this. Where is that idiotic Jadoo when I need him most?!

Here’s the limerick that caused me faux heart-attacks and almost resulted in my brains being blown to pieces unless I shared it with you –

What’s this thing Superstition!

A load of nonsensical fruition.

I’ll go, no need to heed,

so what if someone sneezed.

I’ll reach new heights, that’s my vision.

Story Continuation Challenge Prompt 10

Last week, we had changed the rules a bit and upped the ante. You story-tellers had had it too easy I had thought. 😀 I had prepared myself to be surprised yet again with your amazing stories. And surprised I was! Mandi’s story about waging war to maintain peace and Sonali’s story about battling environmental destruction to save lives were both futuristic and solved some world crisis, just as the challenge rules had demanded.
I was also surprised at the lack of response as I had thought this challenge would be again child’s play for you. Apparently, not. So, this time let us lower the stakes a bit and make it a little easier again. 🙂 Continue reading “Story Continuation Challenge Prompt 10”

The Camp NaNoWriMo Battle Victory

I’ve already been shouting about this from the roof-tops. I’ve also been dragging you along on my journey, turning to you often enough for moral support, motivation and encouragement. I only talked about my novel and of Camp NaNoWriMo this whole month. Looks like it worked after all. Continue reading “The Camp NaNoWriMo Battle Victory”

Of Rains and Rainbows: Solicit your feedback

A few months ago, a close friend had said this about me: “Give her any prompt and she dives right into it; writing in full flow.” At the time I had simply laughed and brushed it off.

But her words came to mind yesterday after I completed the first assignment at the Interactive Flash Fiction Workshop organized by Wrimo India, the India chapter of NaNoWriMo. Published author Rochelle Potkar was our instructor. We had been given a few preparatory assignments to complete ahead of the workshop. I, being the lazy bum, foolishly thought it was okay to ignore them and decided to wing it. Closer to the appointed time, however, fear gripped me. (Those who know me will know of my chronic problem of self-doubts.) What if nothing came to mind just then, I wondered. With just a few minutes left before the workshop, I hurried through the assignment. I jotted down the details quickly. Continue reading “Of Rains and Rainbows: Solicit your feedback”

The Most Dangerous Writing App

I don’t know how but I landed on this writing app called ‘The Most Dangerous Writing App‘. I think someone in my writer’s group on Facebook had suggested a writer’s website, and while browsing through that website I came across an article about this app.

Apparently, the app erases everything you’ve written if you pause even for 5 seconds. For me, this was scary and frightening; not to mention annoying. How dare they erase whatever I write, I thought. I decided to try it out.

Below is the screenshot of the results after a frenzied 5 minutes.

writing app screenshot

At the end of the 5 minutes, my relief and elation were unparalleled. 😀

My skepticism has now turned to belief. It works! To be honest, I did have one eye on the timer and it was the fear that everything would wipe out if I stopped that kept me going.

So much so, that even when 5 minutes were up, I was in full flow and just didn’t want to stop.  I think I could have probably  managed to churn out a few more words if not lines. Then the urge to write a proper, streamlined post came over me. The editing instincts I had kept in check until then kicked in and I ended up saving it as a draft for later. That’s when I realised that I just had to share this with you all.

I think it would be perfect in curing writer’s block. What do you say?

Do try it out. And tell me how it worked for you. 🙂



Story Continuation Challenge

I am considering hosting a ‘story continuation’ challenge.

Each week, there would be a one line beginning provided with an open ending. The challenge would be to continue the story by writing the subsequent line, in the comments.

The 2-line story may take whatever shape the participants (you!) choose to give it.

The challenge would remain open until the time the next week’s prompt is shared.

You would even be free to use these comments as a prompt to develop a new story of your own and publish it on your own blog. (Would request you to mention relevant credits and include ping-backs, of course.)

What do you think of this idea? Does it seem interesting to you? Will you participate in a challenge like this?

Timeless Love

“Do you remember this?” He asked her while handing her a small piece of broken silver.

She examined it, then looked at him in surprise. “Isn’t this the …”

“Yes,” he grinned.

“You kept it safe all these years.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had passed since then.

“I’d constantly shine the sunlight on everybody’s faces. Do you know who I irritated the most?” He laughed.

“You were such a pest even then!” She crinkled her nose at him.

“Yeah… Love you too, Wifey!” He turned her around to show the life-size replica of their most treasured moments.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Sandra Crook

Word Count – 106


What’s magic… but a wish of the imaginary

The imagination of the weary!

An illusion of eyes and a sleight of the hand

What’s magic but a world of make belief band

A dream come true, a moment lived without theory!

Sincere apologies for the above. I take no responsibility for it. Whatsoever.
I came up with it impromptu during an informal chat with a friend, who turned out to be a terrorist in disguise and now holds a gun to my head, insisting I post it. So, please bear with me as I try to save my life and put yours in jeopardy by posting my very first attempt at poetry.

A New Day

He told her he didn’t love her anymore.
She was silent.

He told her he had found someone else.
She sat there stunned.

He told her he had moved on.
She had tears in her eyes.

He told her she’d have to move out.
She was finally free.

He sneered.
She smiled.

Her eyes were brimming with tears – tears of relief and hope.
Her wounds would now get to heal.

He told her it was over.
She knew it was a new beginning.

dom. vio
Say No to Domestic Violence! Image Courtesy


Related Reading

Domestic Violence

A Life to Live

She was standing in the middle of the spartan room, its walls a starkly white. Just moments ago, there had been a flurry of frantic activity around her. People rushing in and out, doctors shouting instructions, monitors beeping madly; her eyes took in every minute detail, her mind not registering the significance of any. She watched as the nurses and attendants noiselessly rushed about. It was as if a movie was being played in slow motion; only someone had turned the volume off.

But all that seemed to have died down now. She was now facing a doctor, who it seemed was talking to her but she could not hear anything. The doctor’s lips were moving but no sound came out. She could see everything, had even started to hear snippets of conversation but could not react. She stood there paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to react. The news was not just shocking, it was devastating. Was it true what the doctor had just said. He had been not drunk, they had earlier told her. She had known that already. Of course, he wasn’t! He hates alcohol.
She opened her mouth to say it aloud but no words came out. The police wanted to speak to her, they said. Why? What was left to talk about? If they could not bring him back, everything else was just pointless, she thought.

What was she to do now? What would she tell the boys? How was she supposed to live anymore? Was she supposed to wake up every morning and pretend nothing had happened?

“Mom”, she heard a cracked whisper call out to her and turned around to see her 12 year old standing in the doorway. Tears streaming down his face, he looked a spitting image of his father. His father who was now dead.

Had he seen what had just happened? Had he heard the doctor’s words? Had he seen them struggle futilely to revive him? Had they really just told her that his heart and body were too weak from the trauma of the accident and that they were unable to bring him back? Had all of that just happened and had he really seen all of that? He shouldn’t have had to see this! She should have been more responsible. She should have been more protective of her sons than to allow them to be here like this. They were just kids. What kind of mother was she to allow a 12-year-old to watch his father die! What would she tell her younger one, who was just 8? What would she tell the one who was kicking her at that moment – the one who was not even born yet?

She looked down at her 8-month pregnant belly and up again at her son’s tear-streaked face. She resolved not to let life defeat her. She would be their father and mother, she decided. She bent down to wipe her son’s tears and hugged him hard. “Where’s your brother?” she asked him.
“In the waiting lounge, I told him to stay there.”
She silently marveled at her older son’s wisdom and realized that she may have just lost her husband but still had the family they both had started together.
With one hand on her belly and the other holding young Jay’s hand, she slowly walked out the door, knowing that tough times lay ahead.