Lyra and the lucky red rose

The sky was a black canvas where lightning made a terrorful entry with the rumbling sounds of thunder bolts. It seemed the gods were at a war. A thunderstorm was about to make its presence in the silent city of Sabethville. Phones were ringing at the work places and homes, people were queued in booths to check on their loved ones.

Lyra was packing her bag and like all the other staff members was moving towards the exit. This would be her first thunderstorm experience away from home. The distance between her work place and home was not very far. She was walking hurriedly making her way into the crowd. Her coat was a cheap material that could barely protect her from the weather; however, she wrapped it around herself tightly.

As she was passing a booth she could hear a woman’s voice. “Hello, where are you?” Ok, just stay safe. And don’t you worry about me or children. We’ll be fine. See you tomorrow. Love you. Bye.” The woman kept the receiver.

Lyra saw people running to reach their homes before the thunderstorm really started to burst its anger on human race. Last time, the thunderstorm was responsible to bring flood which destroyed atleast a dozen lives and uprooted the buildings, houses and roads. It had a horrifying effect on the people of this small city. The life had come to a standstill and it took months for the people to get back to their normal lives. People were strong enough to cope with the pain then and this time preparations were made in advance to have less causalities.

Lyra reached her building. There was no difference between the chaos in the streets and her building. All she could see was people running in the building’s stairway and hallway. No one greeted anyone. Everyone was in a hurry to lock themselves up in their respective homes.

She opened the door and looked for the switch.But her action to bring light into the apartment was futile as there had already been a power cut. She carelessly threw away her coat as it landed on the sofa. She was looking… not outside but something that was in her hand. It was a rose. It was- the red rose, a symbol of love, given by a boy who worked with her in her office building. She kept looking at it, not because it was a love symbol but because it looked very attractive to her. Outside was darkness and chaos and inside there was a sense of calmness and a power cut that enveloped this silence. The velvety red rose was a contrast to the darkness all around it.

The street light was flickering which was a signal that it could go off any moment and her room would be in complete darkness, so she quickly looked for a matchstick and a candle. The street light died as soon as the candle came to life. The candle glowed gently on a table by a vase. All the things in the room were mere shapes and were glowing in the candle light, but the red rose was living, it was the only thing that was breathing life.

Suddenly a squeaking sound made Lyra turn her head. Her concentration was disrupted and she became aware of someone else’s presence. Her eyes were moving, wanting to hear the sound again. The rose still in her hand; after a minute’s silence she could hear the sound again, it sounded like a mouse nibbling at books under her bed. She kept the rose and reached for a torch and bent down to see if it was certainly a mouse or a squirrel had mistakenly found its way into her room. She saw the mouse. It jumped and then made a run for its life as the torch’s light flashed on it.

“Oh! My god I’m so hungry,” Lyra spoke to herself and went to open the fridge door. Just when she was about to open the fridge her eyes darted on a pastry box kept on top of the fridge. This part of the room was partially filled with light. She eagerly took out the pastry and took a bite. The bite followed the action of chewing and she realized that Tom had packed Chocolatine a French pastry instead of a Baklava a Turkish pastry. Anyways, she had taken a bite and didn’t mind eating it all.

“Silly, Tom he did it again. Now tomorrow I’ll have to buy something extra. Seriously, does he intentionally do it to make me buy extra or is it an unintentional act.”

“Now I feel much better,” Lyra rubbed her tummy and went near the study table. It was a normal 3ft by 4ft table. The table’s dark coffee brown shade appeared darker than usual in the dim light of the candle. The table had a few books, a pen stand that had many colourful pens in it. There were two magazines that were lying on the table. One was closed and had a picture of “Carribean Islands” on its front cover and the other was open with a pencil in the middle. Just then she saw a card which was peeping out of the magazine. She pulled it out. It was a wedding card. She pulled the card and started reading it, “so now faith, hope, and love abide…Lauren Peters and Jason Knight request the pleasure of your presence at their marriage…”

“How could I forget,” Lyra shouted. “Oh! Lauren and Jason I’m so happy for you two.”

She looked at the card again to check if there was a dress code or something, thankfully there was none. She went to the cupboard with the candle in her hand.

“I’m not going to buy a new dress. Let’s see if I can find something to wear for the occasion.” There was nothing that was appropriate. She sat on the bed with a grumpy face. After seconds her face lit, “yes, I’ll ask Jenny if I could borrow her dress. Problem solved.”

Nothing had changed outside it was pouring heavily and the street had water running through them. Suddenly Lyra again spoke to herself, “What about the gift? I haven’t got one. I’ll have to buy one.”

She grabbed a note book and a pen and sat down to make a list of gift items.She jotted down 5 gift items: a camera, watches, photo frames, a crystal vase and a bottle of champagne. She glanced at the list for a while and played with the pen…click,click,click,click…. The pen’s noise made a beat with the rain drops that were making a tap,tap,tap noise outside. She just stopped and the rain was still playing its beat. She ticked in front of the photo frame and a bottle of champagne.

Outside the rain had subsided and the wind had come to a rest. The clock on the wall stuck 10. She remembered four hours ago everything seemed chaotic but now there were signs that tomorrow the life would return back to normal. She took out the leftover meal from the past day. One half of the plate was served with mashed potatoes and on the other half was some chicken salad.

She started to eat. The street lights were coming back to life.

“Oh! The street lights,” her voice echoed in the house like a small child. She went to her window; looked up at the starless sky. Her face glowed in the street light that was now entering her room. The candle had been burning for a long time and had lost much of its life in the battle against the darkness. For some reason Lyra didn’t blow the candle. The rose was now kept by the bed side. Lyra looked at it and smiled at it. She took it in her hands and said, “goodnight”… kept it back. The candle started flickering after a while when Lyra was already in a dreamy state ready to hug sleep.

My five nouns are: The squirrel. The thunderstorm.The mouse. The red rose. The French pastry. The wedding. Hope you’ve enjoyed it.


Got my life back

After an exhausting week or a day I need a cup of tea. It makes me feel like I’ve regained my senses. I don’t care what time of the day or night I reach home but I’ll take the trouble to make it and drink it.

If I’m back after a tiresome journey I need my energy drink first, that would be- a cup of tea. Then I just go off to sleep. That would be like a dead dog. Oh! And before going off to sleep I keep my mobile in silent mode, no disturbances you know. Even if I forget I don’t care. I just sleep….cause I’m too tired and nothing or no one can then wake me up.There have been instances in the past when my phone was ringing and I had nicely received the call, mumbled a faint hello,and kept it next to my ears and continued with my sleep; irrespective of who was on the other side of the line. I found out that it was my mom, many times, and my boss, once.

Age and life

What would a one year old toddler understand as people gather around her, and mom and dad point at a burning candle and a cake? At that age who would understand the relevance of a cake, or a candle or a party or even the people singing a birthday song for you… I didn’t. I was like that till five years, I guess, oblivious of the fact of my surroundings and my age.

That was till I was five and after that I became a little aware of these words: birthday, age, cake, flavor, party and gifts. I thought that birthday was equivalent to gifts (birthday=gifts; and not, birthday= age) and not age. Age was just a factor of getting the right gift from parents.

Till eighteen and twenty it really meant something. I really looked forward towards this day of the year as it meant so many things. It meant growing up. It meant a step towards my  independence (but not complete independence). It meant I could drink, have night outs, have boyfriends and all the things that I could not do as a child.

Then there was the phase of early twenties, which was obviously good and exciting. It meant new life, career, dreams, ambitions, car, house, marriage and life after that. Mid twenties was able to bring some panic into me, but I stayed strong and managed. And so it was only after twenty five that I started believing that age is just a number. So, that’s what I started doing whenever I blew the birthday candles I just believed that I was twenty five and ever since I’ve stayed twenty five. Now please don’t take my word for it; it only means that I look much younger than other people of my age. The funny part is people are not able to guess my real age (so I guess it really works…staying young at heart, believing that it is just a number and whatever to make you feel good) So, do I care? I think earlier I use to, but now I don’t…it is just a number and I’m happy to continue my life’s journey.

Corn: A mystery novel

corn: a powerful and healthy food to nibble

corn peeled to show its true colour

What is so unusual about corns? Have you ever thought, that there could be a similarity between corns and onions or are they completely different characters?

They both are similar as they both are layered and nicely wrapped. There true identity is hidden and it takes time to reveal itself and in the case of an onion takes a lot of your patience and watery eyes. This is the only similarity that I see; their true identities are hidden.

Corns reminds me of some mystery novel. Of course I know what’s inside a corn’s ear. But I also remember the first time as a child when I had seen the corn in my house.

My niece was home last week and I got some field corns for everyone one. I went to the kitchen and saw the little one coming after me. She is very shy and an adorable kid. I took out the corns from the basket. I started to husk them. Looking at her, I thought it would be a great idea to give her one to do the job. She and I were husking and finally when she saw the golden corns she was overjoyed and she smiled with wide eyes. Now that was my reward, but it took me back to my childhood days when I used to be amazed to find my way in through the corn’s maze. Till date I’m surprised by these humble edible treats.

What surprises me is that these yellow tidbits are always arranged in a nice order of rows and columns. They remind me of obedient school children. When I was one we were asked to form straight lines, till primary (junior class) we could not stand in neat lines but in higher classes we took an arms distance and knew to make a perfect line. Same is true with these edible masters they are always neatly arranged and one or two might just protrude out from a line. They might destroy the pattern but it reminds me off a curious child, the one who will not do the same as asked to do. That particular corn reminds me of my friend’s son; he will never listen to anyone and will do what you ask him not do.

Coming back to the corns. As they remind me of some mystery novel as I was saying earlier…how? A mystery novel needs a proper planning and plotting. Forget it being a hit or not, a mystery needs anticipation some keenness, which is present in a corn.

It certainly looks like a humble plot in wrappings of vibrant cool shades of greens. The long smooth fiber that is there at the top of the corn cannot be reached at without peeling the corn’s ears. Now do you see, the mystery begins right here, right from the beginning…it’s outer shell. The corncob is so different than the outer layer of the corn itself. There is a difference in the colour and matter both. The green leaves are like lotus petals and if only coloured in pink or white will look like a lotus. But the corncob is so different than any other fruits or veggies. It is not juicy or succulent, but has tiny yellow beads in them just like a building which is decorated with many 40 watt bulbs in it.

The mystery of corn is different than onion as it needs to be opened up one layer at a time. The onion opens up after one or two peels and you know the edible part is right there. You can see it; you can taste it and you can certainly feel it. But for the corn it doesn’t reveal itself in one or two layers. Firstly it is nicely packed in layers, so you have to open it one at a time. The final product is different than the outer cover in terms of colour and substance. These yellow tidbits have a soft, buttery, silky, smooth and shinny surface. It is a great contrast to the green, vibrant, fluorescent leaves that make the outer crust of the corn. It might give the notion that the cob is unbreakable but it is absolutely breakable. In fact I love to break it into two halves with my hands. It somehow, reminds me of sugarcanes, just the breaking part.

Sometimes we might know the ending to a mystery or might not know what is on the other side. But we are not concerned as we just want to be there and hope to find what we are hoping desperately to find. For me it is the case with corns, I know exactly what I’ll find (or maybe not…nicely arranged corns) but still I’m attracted to open it up and look for a different answer or the same answer. Sometimes the endings in any mystery is surprising and sometimes we get exactly what we had hoped for. No matter what we get; it is the curiosity in us that leads us to the path of discovering the reality in any hidden mystery.

Cotton Candy Floss

bright sky and puffy clouds

bright sky and puffy clouds

Clouds floating

in the bright blue sky

Drifting in another world

Attract me

like a bird

My body

so heavy


I could float

like one

to be one


I could jump

on one to reach another

Roll it into a ball

play with it

eat it


it will taste

like cotton candy floss

or sweet coconut

or like snow

will it melt in my mouth.




Blooming in the night

it’s sweet smell wafting

through the garden

entering the corridor

The girl

comes out

Everyone in deep sleep

She passes the corridor

reaches the garden

Watches her steps

She waits

The boy

Lover of hers

Life of her heart

Climbs the wall

Pats her on her back

They meet

They look at each other

their hands clasped together

They sit

in a dark patch


They sit quietly

under the jasmine bush


of a lovely future

joining the starry dots

write their names


to part

bid farewell

with a passionate kiss

with a gentle embrace

Joke of the day

It is said, “Laughter is the best medicine”. Sometimes things just happen and you decide to laugh. Today was one such day and I had my portion of laughter medicine and thought it would be great to share some portion here with everyone.

My sister and I had gone shopping and were returning home.

I just asked her, “L***** do you want some chips?”

And she said, “No, I’m chewing gum.” It was the way she had intonated that made me laugh and I asked her quickly, “Since when have you become Chewing Gum.”

Then she corrected herself and said, “No, I mean I am chewing a gum.”


Part and Parcel

Ah! She wears glasses. Not that it’s a crime but we think she has beautiful eyes and can wear contacts. She refuses to wear contacts and we have never seen her without her glasses. She loves wearing watches too. She just thinks it is cool and she has some trendy ones as well.

We have seen her carrying a packet of tissue wipes or handkerchief in her bag. Who carries handkerchief? We don’t but she does. She thinks her face is oily and needs a tissue wipe or handkerchief after a quick splash of water. She definitely carries a hand sanitizer in her bag. Once we had gone out and we ordered food she quickly took out her mini sanitizer and dabbed it in her palms and hands. She offered it to us as well. She would never forget to carry a bottle of water. She believes why buy it from outside, when you can carry it from home.

Smiling with the Smell

I smell nature

in fresh green grass

I smell innocence

in a hot cup of chocolate

I smell strength

in the pages of new books and covers

I smell freedom

in the vastness of sea

I smell relief

in the first shower of monsoon rains

I smell my hunger

in the freshly baked carrot cake

I smell love

in lavender, jasmine and roses

I smell my addiction

in a bottle of all ground spices and herbs

I smell laziness

in the dark blue night sky

I smell a child

in you