Monday, March 31, 2014

Annoyance! (A)

(A to Z blog Challenge. For  http://writetribe.com/)


A-to-Z-Challenge-theme-reveal



'Ham tere bin ab reh nahii sakte
Tere bina kyaa wajood meraa..'..

She scurried for the phone.

“Hello!”

“Yes….”

“Madam,  please tell me the way to your house. I am from the courier service.”
“O! Sure. From the National high way,  turn to the N.P road and go straight and  we stay at the dead end.”

After an hour a young man handed over a packet addressed in her name. It was a big one, sized somewhat 10’’x 10’’x 10’’.

“A parcel for me! What must be inside? Who will send me a gift?”
Savita passed her vision through the sender’s address. Unfamiliar, both the person and the details! No idea.
 She had placed herself on the chair near the window. Then the dial-song from her cell disturbed her calm.
 Actually she was enjoying the procession of different varieties of vehicles with a variety of colours and sizes on the road in front of her residence.  Some vehicles did break the order, the slightest gap the largest automobiles occupied to overtake others, throwing the entire traffic to turmoil.

 The exams were over by that time and so she felt the days were halcyon. Weather seemed to be comfortable, as the heat of the exam had subsided.  She wanted to open the packet in a furtive manner, though she had no information about any gift or giver.

Nosiness travelled over her hand to examine the content of that packet. So she took the packet to her study and kept on the table above her 11th grade text books. She came out to survey the surroundings. Her hap had helped her. None was present there; mother busy in her kingdom, the kitchen and father with his friend, the news paper.

Ensuring her absence from others’ sight she entered her world, the study room. She undid the packet to find a cardboard box. Inside that another packet, again inside another one and after unfastening three or four packets and wrappers she found a card at the bottom of the packet-box.

As she was about to haul it up from the cardboard box, a pair of hands masked her visage from behind. She under duress towed apart the hands and turned back in ire to see the person who irked her. It was Apurv, her babyhood friend, whose presence she always yearned for. No sooner did she hide the packet-box under a news paper lying there than he snatched it from her.

Despite all her resistance he seized the card from the packet. On the visible side there was a painting.  She got annoyed with Apurv’s all these acts including his intrusion into her secrecy at that time. But her natural fervor forced her to look into it.

Apoorv turned the card, divulging the script on it, ‘April Fool!’

“Today is April 1st; somebody has fooled you, sure.”

Suddenly something clicked her mind. With mirth on the face she said, “I know the person, come on I’ll take you to him.”

  She turned his ear in 3600 and burst out into laughter, “You… devil! Used a pseudonym,didn't you.”

  Tickling hilarity filled the room.

Friday, March 28, 2014

The Greatest Love of All!

The hunter’s arrow hit right at the male of the Krauncha birds, when the pair was in courtship.  Ha! The agony demonstrated by the love was inexplicable.

 Being fully conscious of an equal fate, she didn't deviate an inch from her lover’s precinct. She clobbered about her beak, flapped wings and flurried in heart-deep anguish. She swaggered around her beloved’s body on the ground, gasping for breath.


 She didn’t perceive the presence of the sage or hunter. The dismally engrossed female fainted and fell down sensing her lover’s last breath. Sage Valmik's unfathomable anguish here gave birth to the great Epic Ramayana.

For http://writetribe.com/100-word story


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Wealth ,Sand!

(Google image)
Blot not sand,your wealth.
Sand, Mother Earth’s hand holds for
 Your food and water.

Flower flaunts wide smile.
She thinks not, next day she will
Fade and fall in sand.

Men clash for sand and 
Soil; think they don’t, that one day
End they will, in it.

Sand ,one glances on
Shore in multi-coloured  paints.
Shimmers in the sun.

Let your steps on sand,
Imprinted guide the needy.
Be  satiated

For  http://haikuhorizons.wordpress.com/category/haiku-horizons








Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A to Z Challenge!


         
http://vidyasury.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/A-to-Z-Challenge-theme-reveal.
   
I didn't have a plan to make my presence here since my schedule allots me very little time for blogging. But when I had a glance at the numerous participants my mind instructed me to have  a trial. I strongly feel that a trial can be initiated by any person and that is why I have also positioned myself near the steps. And so here I am.

I am not sure whether my participation will be as regular as the other ones or not, but I am sure it is a platform of friendship to be cherished and flourished. So my appreciation and gratitude are due to the parents of this brainchild.I don't choose a particular theme, I opt for random writing, as whatever creeps to my mind will reflect here.

My theme is  ‘A Garland of Simple Imaginations!' (WR)  



 A-to-Z-Challenge-theme-reveal

Monday, March 24, 2014

The Fabergé Egg!

 A story has to be developed on the prompt given.

 For http://writetribe.com/wednesday-prompt-9/

450px-Faberge_egg ‘The £20m Fabergé egg that was almost sold for scrap.
A scrap metal dealer bought an ornament to be melted down for its gold - until he read a Telegraph article revealing it to be a £20 million Fabergé egg. The  Prompt.
(A Fabergé egg (Russian: Яйца Фаберже́; yaytsa faberzhe) is one of a limited number of jeweled eggs created by Peter Carl Fabergé and his company from 1885 to 1917.[1] The most famous of the eggs are the ones made for the Russian Tsars Alexander III and Nicholas II as Easter gifts for their wives and mothers, often called the 'Imperial' Fabergé eggs. About 50 eggs were made, and 43 have survived.[2] Another two were planned for Easter 1918, but because of the Russian Revolution were not delivered.
After the Revolution, the Fabergé family left Russia (see House of Fabergé). The Fabergé trademark has been sold several times since, and several companies have retailed egg-related merchandise using the Fabergé name. The trademark is now owned by Fabergé Limited, which makes egg-themed jewellery.[3])  From Wikipedia.
  
Now read the story……..

John, the lone son of Mr. and Mrs. Xavier found fun in sowing in his compound, the seeds of whatever he ate. It was his fond hobby to lurk for the shoot of the seeds, which he thought to come up the next day itself. So the next day he would visit the venue. Most of his holidays after his sixth grade exam persuaded him to be with his spade that dug pits for his seeds. He also used to dig out the soil to examine the growth of the seed. Desperation averted him not at all from further trials. He also rejoiced at the company of cows that browsed in the meadows. The cowhand was a playing hand in his venture.

               One day his spade produced a clinking sound and in amazement he dug again. A twinkling round thing somewhat like a ball, embedded with jewels of luminous colours lay covered with mud there. He ripped it up and imagined playing with the new toy. As he kicked it with his left leg, he got hurt. Uttering an interjection ha! He threw it away. The bang of that heavy thing brought his parents’ presence there.

“Why did you expose this? I had kept it concealed there. Burglary is in its active mode now,” father, Xavier rebuked him.
“What is that? I have never seen such a thing with you so far,” mother to father with the tint of affection for the son in words.
“I procured it for our deal of scraps. A day or two before only an elderly woman sold it to me. But a telegraphic message informed me that it is worth several millions of rupees. It is an invaluable antique piece.”
“Several millions!” astonishingly mother.
“Yea, but I have to guarantee myself about its accuracy. Let me meet someone who can help me. Mr. Mathews from the Archeology department brought him at home about the thing.”

Xavier got all his doubts clarified. Actually it was one of the Faberge Eggs, presented to the King of Jaipur  by the Russian Tsar at that time .It was really a gleaming item with stunning stones like dazzling white diamonds, glittering gold beads, radiant rubies, joy-generating jades, eye-catching emeralds, sparkling sapphire  and the like. The egg rolled and rolled from hands to hands and finally reached an old lady of Kerala, who was oblivious of its antique value. She sold it to the scrap dealer for its metal price.

“If we sell it for the original value we don’t have to work anymore. Our days forward will see us in colossal bungalows with all sorts of cozy- comfy life style. Some crazy rich men will be ready to hurl any sum of money over it,” Xavier.

John jumped with joy. His legs darted around his domicile.  He found no bound to his delight.  His mind was all set to benefit from the god-given gift. He imagined riding a car full of luxuriant items. He reached a multi-star hotel which he had glimpsed only in movies. The table in front of him with his favourite edibles invited him filling his mouth with saliva. He relaxed on the most comfortable bed in his palace-like mansion.

  Xavier, having the sign of a firm gaze fixed at john’s face, “Son, darling, we should not go after the dangerous monster, money. It may turn us to be Satanic. We may overlook the way to be travelled, the duties to be performed, the ethics to be followed and the persons to be revered. Pride and impertinence will be our face value. Our group may keep themselves aloof from us and vice versa also.  We will be cheerful only in our own men’s midst.  The money earned without sweating will not last long. So we’ll vend it at a reasonable rate with a reasonable profit .Let us do away with the greed of amassing money with it. The pecuniary gain due to hard work is always charming. Let’s not lose the tranquility of our life, prevalent here. ”

 This resolution led the Xaviers to heave sigh, o! A sigh of relief.

Sarala.








Tuesday, March 18, 2014

High and Low!


Nowadays the new
Gen men view things in their rank.
Scorn on old, they own.

‘Knowledge is power,
Vision is victory; hold
 Vivacious men high.

 Himalayas and
 Indian Ocean edge one
Land;vary levels !

Much hard to attain
Ranks of seers' ecstasy ; good
 Deeds' bliss we obtain.

Hills and knolls stand high.
Poor rivers,streams lie low; is
Mother Earth unfair?

sarala.

This is penned for Haiku horizon's prompt 'Level'

http://haikuhorizons.wordpress.com/category/haiku-horizons/












Saturday, March 15, 2014

People! ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­


­People! ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ 
People, the word designates the two-legged animals that can talk and laugh, that can complain and envy others, that can hurt and harm others, that can deceive and trouble others etc, etc. These animals are different each one from the others in size, shape, age, colour, category nature, character, habit and habitat. What I intend to express here is the consequences of the increase in number, the population expansion and thereby explosion.

Among Mother Earth’s progeny China and India stand highly out sized. They are the most populous countries on the Globe. Of course they own a power, the man-power, unparalleled with that of the others. So they can well celebrate their population, can’t they?As everything has a gleaming side and a gloomy stage this subject is no exception.First let  me occupy the luminous  area.

More people mean more new blood and brawn, more young brains and ideas and more work force and productivity. They all contribute to the growth and development of their mother countries. The mother countries can take pleasure in the effort of their broods with a view to bringing progress for all. When requirement arises some or other members will be sure apparent and accessible. So in a way constraints will be less or can be cut-short. Watching or viewing the folks, action-packed is really an enthusiastic entity. Large families form the assets of their parent-countries.

The state of a large family, filled with noise of diminutives’ will no doubt be mind-rending. The sound of playing,  laughing, moving, eating, fighting, hitting, complaining, giggling, sleeping etc will definitely create a merry-making environment. The oldsters of the family forget their dotage when their minds start running after the youngsters. The word boredom will not get any chair in that house. Everywhere one can see pleasure clapping with joy.

Everything will be well and pleasing, if the families are affluent in fulfilling their needs; whereas families with poor riches can’t even smell any bliss. They are always on their heels to find means to meet both the ends. Such families populate these countries without any planning. A sword of Damocles hangs on the head of the peony families’ days forward.

Therefore India (China-long back) began executing a line of control over the productivity of Homo sapiens in human factories. When India stood for two offspring, China opted for only one. And this line of control limited the production in family factories to a point.  Now China has chosen to traverse a step backwards by letting the families to have two in their offspring list.

In India, the government has totally forgotten the rungs of population preventive campaign. The government people have only one goal i.e.to gain chair and power through any mucky means. So they have bidden bye to the goal of birth control. They have also extinguished the jingle ‘We two and for us two’ and it has become extinct leaving no relics. Augmentation in population amplifies the vote rate, fixing the chair of power firm. The rulers get their yen won.

Recently the fanatic priests have taken a long leap to the field of campaigning for birth-increase. They want to expand and propagate their religions.  They are really saps in the sense that they don’t even think about the health-sapping mothers’ pitiable condition. Will they appoint or act as domestic helps for those mothers? Who will look after the elder kids in large nuclear families? Their academics, co-academics, health, creativity, recreations and everything will go astray without the help of mothers who linger in frequent pregnancy. And if anything untoward or unpleasant happens with the parents, will the priests become foster parents? If the number is less, at least some philanthropists may extend aid for the diminutives.
You may ask about the big families in the olden times. True, but they used to live in unison as joint families where intricacies were nil or narrow in child-rearing. Members other than mothers readily did the upbringing of elder toddlers. More or less the density of population was tolerable to Mother Nature.

If their religion proliferates as the fanatics yearn, can they conquer the entire country or Universe? No, never. Expanse of beliefs isn’t a criterion for reigning over the world. And also those people or their successors cannot or will not experience that in their life-time. All the people irrespective of any community take such a stand if, what will be the upshot?
People will have to strive for mastering the art of living.  Pulling and pushing for livelihood will become their games. Thrashing, stabbing, shooting and so on will be there in their daily exercises. Stealing and snatching of others belongings will turn as sheer fun. Massacre, stampede etc will not be uncommon and will go unobserved.

 People will have to struggle for their body-size space to dwell here.  These highly inflammable martial arts will burn spreading spark among even their kith and kin. The very meaning of dear and near will be lost in this soil. Infighting will burst into an exultant laughter.

It will be very much unfair if the environs’ slaughter is not made discernible here. It shouldn't be kept covert in dark. Mother Nature will be looted by exploiting the material blessings-water, sand and soil, rock and stones and flora and fauna- she has kept in store for us. Survival of not the fittest, but the supremacy of Nature’s assassins’ will crop up in this soil.  The Homo sapiens will prove no sapient ways to protect and preserve the nature’s treasure for his and his progeny’s tomorrows.

The earth cannot stretch and the resources cannot enhance, but will diminish in fact. Result dearth of food, water, garb and even air (Oxygen will scarce because of smoke and carbon dioxide).Nature will not bear all these carnages like a silent sufferer. She will sort out means to exercise her ferocity on her roguish sons. She will use the sticks of deluge, surge, earthquake, tornado, tsunami etc for that reason to punish her mischievous offspring. Regardless of the admonition and caution from the savants, people do things thoughtlessly. They exhibit all sorts of martial arts for their momentary gains.

So to curb the rouse of such ante-social situations, curtail the unscientific population-growth, through proper planning. Cultivate values here. Small families with high values will reform the society. Protect villages from becoming populaces. ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­You will have time enough to guide and lead your dear child through paths successful, if the number of issues is less.  You can pour the molten minds to logically designed moulds to obtain the coveted outline.



 sarala.



Sunday, March 2, 2014

The pretty old Abode!



Amma told rather pleaded," Ramkrishnan, you buy that house, the owner is about to put it for sale."

“What is the use, amma. It is pretty old, why do you keep all these sentiments?” laughed the son at her demand.

“That house witnessed my kids’ babyhood-your sister’s and yours.”
We had our unforgettable events of life there only.”

Easwary, her husband and two diminutives had their two and a half decades of existence in that dear-to-heart dwelling.

The outlay of two bright offspring’s academics had positioned the house in their affluent neighbour’s hands, with reluctance much. Amma’s eyes became tear-filled and mind sauntered through each and every nook and cranny of that house. She couldn't convince her son the value of that abode which his late father had built bit by bit with intricacy.

“Ha! He represents the new gen of the day,” a deep sigh bounded from the mother



For http://writetribe.com/9-sentence-fiction/

Maalu’s Mango Tree!



Sowed, Malu, the child,
 A mango seed in soil,
Nurtured it, she,
 Well with care and love.
And every day stood, she watching i.
 Chucked, the seed
The shoot one day.

The sprout, at the marvel
 Of the wide world 
 Astonished to a degree high,
Batted and blinked
 His eyelids in awe
At the glistening glitter
 And glister of the globe.
     
Rains with shower bath,
Wind with lilting lullabies
Night with loving
Strokes to put him in sleep,
And Uncle Sun with rouse call,
  Pampered and patted
 Him softly and gently.
  
Zephyr fondled him
 In soothing mood,
Birds in style performed
Ballets really stunning.
Puberty in time hugged him
 And the plant flaunted
 Prettiness in plenty.

Blossoms in ample measure
 Blessed largely the Mango tree
And adolescence, the regent,
 Clinched the girl amorously.
 Loomed lovely flowers
Giving rise to fruit with charming hues
 Spreading sacrosanct fragrance.

Dangling bunches of fruit
And broad branches of tree
No doubt glorified all the beings.
Malu viewed her beloved tree
That glorified others also fully
And magnetized highly
Her very being there.

 The enamored friends
 Malu and Madhu,
Sat there chatting under the tree.
Woes and hopes
 As covert ideas
Took their travel
 From mind to mind.

Baffled one day at
 The crowd in gloom
Surrounding all the kin in abode
Heard she from people
Some echoing whisper,
 Of very low voice
 In the encasing environs.

Ha! Lay motionless
Her very dear granny,
Tried, she in vain and vain
To erase all her gloom.
Talks of felling the tree for pyre
Rumbled and moved in air
From the elderly mouths present.
                                     
“O! Chop not my beloved tree,
Ch.o..p  n.o..t.”
She bawled at the losses
Of deeply-loved granny and tree.
“Helping others is my mission,  
Use me, let the bereaved, and
 ‘Rest in Peace’ the deceased,"said the tree

sarala