Break of day.....

Option Four:Fiction

Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies.
~Erich Fromm

Using the above quotation as your inspiration, write a flash-fic, scene, or short story involving a bright morning.


The aroma of morning coffee is quiet different from anything in the rest of the world, if you know what I am talking about. And as I sipped on my coffee with every sense of joy that can ever be, the voice of the morning show's radio jockey fell on my ears. He sounded like a young lad in early twenties, nice crisp voice and was endlessly speaking in the local language but with a heavy english accent. I took another sip of coffee and decided to give my un-didvided attention to him, there was something in his voice!

'For all those early risers, Good morning Bangalore. I love you guys! Today's theme as I have already spoken in detail; It's about the five best people in your life and why. Be it your father, your best friend, your girl friend or teacher, call up 98877...' I lost him for a while as my mind immediately turned inwards in search of those five people. this announcement was followed by two songs, one of them was my favorite and was successful in bringing my attention back.

I finished my morning coffee and dismissed the search of five best people. The task of preparing breakfast seemed more important than anything else for that moment! And I knew I would thinking about this 'Theme' for the whole day. It was always like this. After the second song finished the RJ was back and I began chopping onions. 'Good morning bangalore, I am back with you. We have young Shreya online, she is five years old and wants to share something with us.... 'Hello Shreya' Now, I stopped chopping onions and stared at the radio. Not that I knew who Shreya was but I really yearned to listen to the voice of this young girl, what better way to start the day!

'Hello Uncle.' The voice was beautiful. So pure and innocent, completely musical. She seemed scared at first, then slowly she spoke 'My first favorite is my mom. She is the best best person in the whole world. My second favorite is my dad. I love him a lot. My third favorite is my pet dog, 'Subbu'. He plays with me.....' And then there was silence for a minute. Then she reacted immediately 'After I grow old, I will have two more best people. But for now, it's only three!'. I laughed hilariously, that was the cutest talk I have heard on the radio till now..... It made my day!

Broken promise

Option Four: Fiction

All art is autobiographical; the pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.
~Federico Fellini

Using the above quotation as your inspiration, write a flash-fic, scene, or short story involving pearls.


'There she comes again! I better run, I don't waana be involved with this one again' Farida told herself as she looked at the old lady walk through the doors of her work place. Nazir, the new guy in the jewellery store welcomed the old lady with a warm smile. Farida silently prayed that this encounter would go smooth. She liked him. She thought he was cute.

The old lady returned Nazir's smile. It was a toothless smile but the eyes shone brightly like a pair of diamonds. Nazir silently checked the potentiality of the customer. Yes, she wore gold bangles and a glimpse of a gold necklace was seen partly covered by the sari. She looked all right, potential and all was good. That's what Nazir thought as the customer sank into the chair opposite to him.

'Yes my boy, I would love to look at pearls. Show me the best you got!' she said with an authoritative voice. Though 'Pearls' was not exactly what Nazir would settle for, but he never allowed the expression of discouragement to be seen on his face. he ran his hand over the counter to open it through the key he had and picked a few necklaces with pearls. The best they had got. Farida noticed Nadir picking up the necklaces with his delicate fingers and thought 'His fingers look very feminine. Long and thin. Sign of an artist. Let's see how talented he really is!'

The old lady began to inspect the jewellery placed on the glass table. The lights in the shop shone so brightly that everyone around looked beautiful. She picked up one of the necklaces with her shivering hand and began to inspect the pearls. Her fingers ran smoothly over each pearl and Nazir began to feel that he is in the presence of a genius. He began to read the thoughts of this customer. His friends always felt he was a mind reader. And that he was like a radio and could tune his frequency to other's thoughts. But Nadir knew more than that. He listened to what her mind was telling her 'these big white pearls. They are beautiful my dear. Look at them, pearly white creatures. They bring so much joy to my heart. You promised me, but it was not fulfilled.' Nadir's mind was distracted. He knew she was hallucinating. She was talking to some one.... who wasn't there. He simply stared at her again and the lady continued adoring the pearls. He knew it. He knew she isn't going to buy anything. She has come here to relive the past moments.

He slowly kept the other sets of necklaces inside without distracting his customer and then entered her mind again. 'You bought me gold and diamonds. Lots of them. And even without me asking for anything. But you never kept up the promise of a pearl necklace. You hated pearls. I knew it. You hated everything I loved.....' At this point Nadir caught the eyes of Farida staring at him through a hand mirror. He gave a nervous smile and Farida blushed. The lady was lost in her thoughts. Though he had no interest to read her thoughts anymore, he continued to watch the elderly woman. She was playing with the necklace. She adored it undoubtedly but he knew she will never buy it.

A promise remained unfulfilled, a love which was denied had run this woman near to insanity. She would crave for pearls but never buy it herself. There was 'someone' who promised her but never kept up that promise. And she seemed to wait for an eternity hoping that 'the promise' be fulfilled. When she was out of her trance after several minutes, Nadir was very much present. 'Boy, I am too old for pearls now. May be I should go. Thank you.' she said and rose gracefully and walked out of the store. Nadir didn't seem surprised and put those pearls back safely in it's place. 'She will come again' he told himself.

Seven fears....

Fear is a strong emotion. Fyodor Dostovesky, writer and philosopher has truly defined the commonest of fears in the below words :
'Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most'.

Here are the seven things that scare me the most:

1. Fear of failures: Though it may sound like a weakness this 'quality' has transformed me in more than one ways.

2. Fear of darknesss: As a child this kind of fear was very dominant in me but I have now learnt to conquer it.

3. Fear of 'some' people: 'Some' belong to a group of people who have always been successful in scaring me. Not the loud and harsh ones but the ones who remain calm on the surface. These seemingly calm people bottle up their anger and one fine day with no prior notice there will be a volcano of emotions. The consequences are the same as in any natural calamity, mass destruction!

4. Fear of 'insects': I am terribly scared of all the insects. Bee, cockroach, dragon fly, beetle.... all of these winged creatures. I am scared that these things might creep into our ears when we are asleep. This is my worst kind of fear.

5. Fear of losing my luggage: This fear, i have developed from my past experiences of losing things easily. Shear carelessness!

6. Fear of sudden noises: Imagine when the room is totally silent and then there is a tunmble of falling vessels. My heart literally skips a beat at these situations.

7. Fear of 'nothingness': What if one fine day I will have nothing to do! No work, no identity. Sometimes this is what I desire for but again it's also one my dark fears: Uselessness.

Autumn of life

drop, evenings, glad, mist, motionless, murmur, pallid, rivulets, swoon

'Hmmmmm' he let out a sigh which echoed in the solitary valleys and startled him. He looked around slowly around the bench to look if anyone heard him this EVENING. No one did. Bashir looked above at the hazy sky, waiting and hoping to catch the sight of setting sun. But all he could see was gloomy cloud and MIST filled murky garden which lay ahead of him. The garden had withered a long while ago, flowers seemed to bend down in shame now and the leaves lay crushed beneath the bald trees at the weight of time. It was autumn.With despair he gripped his walking stick tightly and looked around. 'Growing old is miserable. It's a sign of weakness' he told himself. 'But then wisdom is a quality inherited along with grey hair. The world teaches you the secrets of life and love' another voice within him cried. He began contemplating about the idea. 'Aren't all the wise men in this world old? Yes they are!' he was overwhelmed with this new revealation. His eyes brightened and then he looked at the garden again. His life seemed like a 'PALLID' performance now. Gone were the days of strength and foolishness. 'The spring of life had ended for me, autumn has set in now. This is not the time for fights and flights, but a time for search of wisdom and pursuit of truth within.' The crushed flowers seemed to applaud and the bald trees shook their head in approval, a cool breeze carried the withered leaves a little further and they seemed to tell him something...... 'Hmmmm......' he sighed.

Seven changes

For cafe writing I choose option two: Seven changes / Seven stages

Before I begin my list, I would like to share a word or two about the topic. Just like how nature would have seemed placid if not for so many changing seasons, our lives would appear tarnished if not for changing times. As they say

They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom.


1. When I was five years old I went to stay with my grandparents for some time. the world seemed beautiful and I lived like a princess all the while. The best of my qualities are due to their upbringing.

2. I was seven years old when my sister presented me a book. It was Enid Blyton's 'tales of long ago'. After that reading became a habit and now it's become a passion. The library almost became my second home.

3. One of the most important changes and the change which I am proud to talk about is that I had ugly handwriting till fifteen years. People tried to change it but I wasn't motivated enough. And one fine day I just sat in front of the computer picked up a Font from Microsoft Word and practiced it in my notebooks for a long time till I succeeded. People now are all praises to my handwriting.

4. The profession we choose has a big role to play throughout our lives. I joined in a dental college. At that time I had absolutely no interest or motivation towards dentistry. In a way I resented the decision but I had no other choice. But when my patients addressed me as 'Doctor' that moment changed everything and I fell in love with my profession.

5. I fell in love for the first time when I was twenty. And the whole world seemed to change around me. It was exactly how I had pictured it in my mind. Love taught me a lot of lessons and the most important one being 'Love yourself before you love others'.

6. When I joined college I was as innocent as a child. In two years I mastered the ways of the world. And became a part of it. I slowly began to shed off layers of my character - innocence, fear. and I let go my insecurities and prejudices. I wore a 'mask' most of the times and now I can hardly distinguish between me and the 'mask'.

7. I got married in September 2007. It's been the most important decision and actually the only decision 'I' made in my life. I am enjoying life to the fullest and there are absolutely no regrets.

Miss Knit Brow

For Cafe writing, I chose Option One: Fiction.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
- George Santayana


Write a flash-fic, scene, or short story about a happier state of mind.





As I walk along the street where I have been living since the past forty years, I am aware of at least a minimum of four pairs of eyes watching me and sigh ‘there goes the old maiden’. The old couple living at house number 42, a policeman adjusting his cap and walking stick and the vegetable seller across the street. On certain occasions a few middle aged housewives squatting outside their homes join the ‘watchers’ and at times I hear giggles from the young girls down the lane telling each other ‘you don’t want to end up like Miss Knit Brow, do you?’. I have never felt odd about the whole exercise of being watched, sympathized, blamed or talked about. It’s a cycle of responses that automatically sets in when they see me on my morning walks. It’s become a ritual since ten years.


Being a woman of forty years is not easy. Being a spinster is difficult. Having to look after the mother whom you don’t relate to anymore is absurd. Above all being the owner of a beauty parlor can be highly backbreaking at times. When your bread winning job is to make others look beautiful, you fall into the pressure of looking the best. All the time. I don’t step out without my make up. I take a lot of care for my skin, hair and body. I have all the time in the world! Why wouldn’t I? But every time I look at myself in the mirror I feel ghastly. Something seems to go wrong always. I know what my assistants call me behind my back ‘Miss Knit brow’. I must be sulking badly. I never socialize with customers. I believe in doing my job, that’s all.

On that Sunday early morning as I was on my way home after crossing ‘the’ four pair of scrutinizing eyes a football landed right in front of me, which for a moment shook me off. I looked hither and whither and a voice came from a distance ‘Mam can you pass the ball?’ I looked in the direction of the voice, a young lad in early twenties with a tensed look stood behind a mesh. On a different day I would have ended up shouting harshly at that boy. But not today, the ball had traveled a few distances I went behind it to collect with both my hands and handed it over to the young lad smilingly. ‘Thank you mam. You look beautiful’ the boy replied with the politeness of a gentleman.

I must have stood there for a long time, trying to live that moment again because when I opened my eyes the boy was gone. I was blushing like a young teenager; I could feel the flush in my cheeks. I must have looked like a red tomato. I continued my journey homeward, trying to recollect the last time a man called me beautiful. I checked myself in the mirror of a car, the reflection was beautiful. I swore to smile throughout the day. When was the last time a man called me ‘beautiful’? I was wondering.

‘Mam the customers are waiting for you’ my assistant at the parlor called for me. I was lost to myself looking at the mirror. I don’t know how many hours have passed since I last saw the boy but every moment seems wonderful now. I smilingly greeted my customers and my duty to beautify others seemed welcoming. Everything changed from that day. 'Maria, you have aged so gracefully' one of my customers noticed that day. 'Yea, I have' I replied proudly.

Between the devil and the deep blue sea

For cafe writing : Option Two

Give me seven things that make you sigh. You are not required to provide any explanations, but it’s more interesting for readers if you do.

1. I take a 'relieved' sigh when 'it's finally over'. Like may be if I have to stand an inquisitive neighbor's gossip updates or at the end of a difficult game or maybe when I just finished an appointment with my beautician. It gives me so much relief to sigh, it literally puts a full stop.

2. I take a 'slow' sigh when I am surrounded by breath taking scenery - deep blue sea, strong mountains and star lit night sky. May be as a sign of gratitude to be in their presence.


3. I sigh 'hopefully' when I encounter ignorance.

4. I sigh with 'lust' after a delicious bite of dark temptation pastry. Isn't that moment so so special!

5. I sigh with 'resolution' when I realize that my house needs a spring cleaning or the carpets need to be vacuumed.

6. I sigh with 'guilt' when I realize I have indulged too much in shopping and bought stuff that are practically useless.

7. Every time I turn the last page of a wonderful book, I sigh with a sense of accomplishment.

Cloud buster!

For Cafe writing - January project (option 2 Pick three)

Pick at least three of the following eight words, and write a paragraph, scene, flash-fic, essay, blog entry or poem using them. It’s fine to change tenses, or pluralize if you want to, but please bold the words you choose.

breathless, change, elusive, pensive, reflect, surge, tide, vibrant




'Oh God! So many of them today. It's going to be tough competition. But I am not going to say that loud, papa is in a pensive mood already' Chintu resolved. 'The sky looks vibrant with so many of them flying. It looks as though someone is shooting different colors at the sky, a ceaseless surge twirling and whirling, playing with the wind. I think the wind is friends with these cloud busters. And there are more this year, many more'. 'Isn't it beautiful papa? How does it fly so high? What will happen if the birds run into it?' Chintu asked his father. 'It's just a kite. No birds will touch it; look I just cut our neighbor's kite. Down goes the golden colored kite. Hurray!' rejoiced his father. Chintu amusingly looked at his father turn into a kid again.