The old lady

Sitting in the veranda, was an old lady. Her glasses, perfectly balanced on her nose. She shook her head from right to left drawing imaginary lines on a newspaper placed on a table.

The sun warmly lit the November sky. Silence was disturbed, momentarily, by the chuckles of children playing on the street. The old lady enjoyed the to and fro movement of strangers and acquaintances. Strangers got a blank look; whereas, the acquaintances received greetings followed by a lengthy smile.

Her shawl was neatly folded and kept on a nearby bamboo chair. She loved talking as she turned the pages of the newspaper. Her friends – a cup and a saucer, a quite chair beside her and her humble shawl – listened to her peacefully.

This peaceful daily act was disturbed once in a week. She welcomed and longed for this disturbance. At a distance a bell would ring which was followed by a speeding bicycle that glided on the gravel path and stopped right in front of her house. Like some miracle she would raise her head… to catch the sight of a postman.

Today was the day; the postman had showed himself after nearly a week.

Greetings were exchanged with warm smiles. Time was automatically spared from the busy schedule of the postman for the old lady. He would sit on the chair in the veranda. First a glass of water was served and then a cup of tea. Their topic of discussion revolved around – health, medicine and their children. Like a ceremonious ritual the postman would first check his watch, then get up and hand over her letter. She would collect it with the same exuberance of a child collecting candies.


Bundles of letters were stacked in the cupboard. All were arranged according to the year.

Time had moved forward. The son had moved away for better prospects. He visited the old lady in the form of many letters and some photographs.

Satisfaction was found in a mother’s heart that her son was well settled and doing good for himself.

On one side hung photos, and on the other side, paint was peeling off from this colourless wall. Her son’s photos appeared in the order of his growth – infancy, childhood, adolescence – and then additional faces appeared – wife and a son.

After a while the photos had stopped appearing, but the letters had continued.


In a city apartment, was a sofa, a center table, a foldable bed and a kitchen stove. On a shelf, in the room, at a far corner was a trophy with initials at the bottom – Leo S. The surface of the trophy reflected a humanly face. This young face had an uncanny resemblance to Leo S. He had promised Leo S. something.

And today as he sat down to write…

Dear Ma,

…nothing came to him. He had been doing this for the last five years. Every time he wrote he remembered his promise – Please don’t stop writing letters or she’ll get worried.

Today, he struggled with words. His desire to continue a lie had pressed his soul hard and made his heart heavy. The old lady was ignorant of Leo’s death.


Leo was a guard at a bank. One day, when the robbers attacked the bank and the people, Leo’s bravery fetched him a trophy but it also drew a wound in his stomach. All he thought it to be a small wound, but it was not. It became the reason of his slow and untimely death along with his ignorant attitude towards medication.

In the room, where the trophy was still standing victoriously, a decision was being formed.

Bags were packed and young Leo was ready to go.


Years back, a traveler had come from a village. Today someone will be tracing back Leo’s steps to reach a someone dear in the village.

Thank you, Guys

What happened when I was away from my blog for these many days?

My blog became three years old. Yaaay!!!

kittyThe day when I had started blogging I had my apprehensions about reaching this far. I was nervous and scared and the only question that came to my mind was – who is going to read my blog. I dismissed this thought and followed my twitching fingers. The result – my fingers were in love with the keyboard and followed my hearts dictations quite obediently.

Funny thing was – the first year I wrote turning a deaf ear to my negative thoughts. Then came… a heart breaking revelation. Some people had shared their feelings of struggle of keeping their blog going. Some also wrote, how they had enjoyed it in the 1st year and then it became a bumpy ride with their interest soon fading away. One had strongly suggested that on trying hard, one’s blog could survive only for two years. As my blog was coming close to a second year, I was visited by my own ghostly unsupportive thoughts, again.

Fear had raised a question – will I be able to continue swimming or be drowned by my negative thoughts? The fact – I survived and swam through another year of a blogging current.

Today, as I see… the first year, I stood on the shores watching and waiting; then the second year, I rushed in wanting to be washed away by the current; and now as I begin a third year, I see myself joyfully swimming and floating in the salt of my creativity.

But…wait, that’s not it….

What made all this possible? All this was possible because of the love, support and encouragement of my fellow blogger friends and readers.

Thanks dear friends for all your comments, follows and likes. Thanks for being my life support jacket when the negative discouraging tide was high. Thanks for investing your time into reading my posts. I hope to keep on adding more to this blog.

Some sweet treats. Please enjoy! 🙂sweet-shop-party-decorations-table



Birthday’s and other occasions are good enough to treat oneself with some yummy confectioneries. Here’s one that I had last year for my birthday.


Why limit oneself with only sweets and chocolates when there are some natural treats too, that one can feast on? It is a real treat to go pick fruits and eat from one’s garden. I was home last month and I did, just that.

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When nature’s supermarket is up for sale, it’s a treat for these someone too. Why should we only enjoy the produce?

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