Window to the sky

window to the sky

I was sitting inside a restaurant and my eyes caught sight of this small little thing. I wanted to click it. But I was confused if it was inside the window or outside. A careful gaze helped me in ascertaining that it was inside the place.

It kept on dashing against the window thinking it’ll make its way out to the open sky. Poor thing! It was late, but it did find its way out after a lot of flapping around. I couldn’t blame it, as the window seemingly opened into the clear sky.


Being spared

It was a hot dry day. I was in a car and stopped at this wonderful sight of yellow flowers that had lighted this small stretch of road.

I didn’t mind the heat as I stepped out of my car. I was quickly dissolved at the brightness of these flowers. As I saw the children of nature playing with the gentle breeze I smiled, and I think, they too, smiled at me. I took out my mobile camera and walked to get the angles right. I realized that before capturing it in my mobile I should capture it in my memory first. So, I walked for a few minutes or so.



It was a miracle. Why so…because, it seemed they knew of my coming….All the flowers were fresh and there were only a few petals scattered on the ground. I took a deep breath and filled myself with the essence of its freshness. I enjoyed the sunlight as it played hide and seek in between the spaces created by the yellows and greens. I peeped out of those spaces and the palette of the artist looked fun and playful with azure blue, lemon yellow and forest green scattered in a limited place.



I was lucky to have spared some time because I knew that the next time when ( or if) I’ll visit this place, it would be different as the nature is a submitting canvas in the hands of the creator who changes and colours the landscape with different hues every single minute.

But in reality, it was this moment that had lured me to witness and be a part of this miracle, and had spared me to be in that moment to marvel this beautiful sight.

























An early bird will miss…

 There was never a night or a problem that could defeat sunrise or hope. –

                                                    Bernard  Williams

morning sun

Sunrise when walking in the morning

Night is a peaceful time…to sleep (for many) and to work (for some). The problem is when you keep working the entire night to meet your deadlines you would probably still be awake at 4 o’ clock or preparing to sleep. Either ways you’ll be too tired to see the magical sunrise (I say so, because at such a time I only want to sleep – catch a cat nap and look sane, when I go to work later).



sunrise when I was flying

“An early bird catches the worm,” they say, but does it matter? If one has to catch only a worm it can be done later as well. What I think, the bird will miss is – the rising sun, a direction to fly, an hour of its day, a rosy glow of a magical morning and flying individually in the sky.

As I stood to greet an early morning sun, I noticed something. At first one or two birds flew calling out loudly. Then as the sky wore more patterns of orange and red the number became a design – a slant line or a letter “V”. There sweet call for the day also diminished with their growing numbers. Finally when the sun was up there were more people on the streets and less birds in the sky…there was also more noise and less peace with the passing day.

Floating in the sky

clouds colour“Look at these. Aren’t they beautiful.” I thought as I peeped out of the plane window. These puffy clouds were floating like carefree nomads in the sky. All I wanted to do was to jump on them…but, oops! I could have had a terrible fall. They also reminded me of cotton candies and I wanted to wrap them in a stick and have them…a warning – the taste could be highly imaginative.

Since I could not do all this I thought it would be best to take out my camera and started clicking.

For this week’s photo challenge: “Afloat” 




Sun running to catch a sleep before it arises the next day. I could not capture its speed or colour but only a blur orange dot in the sky.

blur sun

An unclear medium is bound to produce a blur image. Sky looked hazy as I capture it through a net.

blur sky

blur sky

It’s good to be focused, but sometimes when you are out of focus small things appear…

red leaves

red leaves

…to be beautiful…

white flower


…and clear, bringing out the best and…

rust in focus

rust in focus

…the worst.


Everyday is a fresh start

green (leaves) the colour of freshness

Fresh is the first ray of morning’s sun

Fresh is the sip of an early morning tea

Fresh is the smell of green grass under my feet

Fresh is the giggle of an innocent child

Fresh is the breeze that flows in the field

Fresh is the taste of a ripe tomato from my kitchen garden

Fresh is the sight of blue sky from my window

Fresh is the feel of cool water running down a stream

Fresh is the first shower of rain

stream running up and down struggling to stay fresh

The last time I looked at a grass it was bright green one day, light green the next, then pale yellow and finally wore a rustic brown. We are just like a blade of grass crossing all the stages of life. But never once I thought that the blade of grass had lost its freshness. It appeared fresh at every stage to me.


There is freshness embedded in every fold of life. If we think yesterday was the same as today and tomorrow will still be the same we might lose to stay fresh. I wonder how the sky has worn the blue garment forever and still looks fresh to us. Being mortals we might wither away some day that is inevitable but we can choose to begin everyday programming ourselves with the thought that – it is a fresh start, it is a new day.

bud – ready for a fresh start of its journey

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.


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.


The Night Warrior

In the beginning was nothing and…. But how can that be possible, there has to be something. In the vastness of darkness was something or rather someone. He had no form or rather no one had seen him to say that he had some form.

He was the warrior of dark. He looked dark; he was formless. His duty was walking through the infinite darkness and so was his form-infinite; dark or light no one knows, no one has seen. One day he got bored with the silence and so he took out a bow from his quiver and shot it in the darkness.

The bow was harmless and just like a fire cracker sprinkled the space with dots of light. He was happy to see it. Due to no gravity and freezing temperatures the sparks refused to vanish and so they stayed. They stayed like hanging lights. Some sparks were like mini bulbs and the others were clubbed together, they defined no shape. So, the warrior took out a flute from his quiver and like a glassblower blew air into these cluttered sparks. They were now inflated. Now a shape could be defined, they were round and somewhat circular in shape.

He moved covering the space from white ball to orange ball, from orange ball to yellow and finally he stopped at a blue ball. It looked very attractive; so he gazed at it. He took out his flute and started playing the sound of life into it. Very soon the blues got separated into two parts- sky and ocean. The waves danced at the notes played by the warrior. The warrior saw them happy and shot a bow right into this blue ball. There was gravity and the sparks did not stay and fell down. They were scattered all over the ocean. They were shinny, sandy, muddy and formed parts of land. He was happy and wanted to assign a protector to all this. He took out a conch from the bed of the ocean. He blew into the conch and since everything was so happy and the waves were dancing and there was breeze…the sound got transformed into green trees. They were planted everywhere. They stood deep rooted and with their branches joined together showed respect to the warrior.

There was one tree that looked very attractive. It stood firm, had good thick branches; however, unlike the others had no leaves. The warrior could see him in it. He called at it to get a closer look. But the poor tree could not see and fell down with a big thud. Right where it fell was a large ball of mud. The warrior placed it right at its center. He plucked three leaves from other plants and placed these three leaves on this ball. Two were placed horizontally in one line and the third one in between these, a little below. Now the warrior asked it to get up and walk. He was walking and fell into the ocean. There was complete silence. The warrior thought he will not see it, but then something came out. It was not the tree and sure looked different and new to him (can say looked handsome). It was thankful to the warrior because it was his creation. The warrior name it-HE and made him a protector of this land. He was pleased and said this is a land of magic and blessed him and all that was there and went away.

The warrior still moves from one dark space to another. He keeps moving, creating and shooting in the open space with his bow. It is very difficult to say what he would be creating…NOW.