The Wait

Wanting to turn the cold winds into a shower, she waited for the storm. That storm, she believed, would take her through a secretive egress that’d clear all clouds. The rhythm in her chest paced up signifying some complicated happiness.

If someone discovers you while yearning to be discovered, the feeling remains etched. Then, waiting wouldn’t be exhausting; it also won’t any longer be only the essence of sadness or loneliness. That was what she felt, a roller-coaster of emotions, that couldn’t easily be put in words.

What if that doesn’t happen at the dawn? Maybe, it’s meant to be at the dusk. The end of the wait will be that vibrant sunset, the best show saved only for the end of the day!

Credits

In response to  Sadje’s ‘What Do You See Prompt #141’. 

I’m Committed!

When people enquire about my busyness and the response comes out to be ‘I’m engaged or committed with something or somebody’, why can’t they just let it be? In awe, the follow-up is usually, ‘Why haven’t you told me yet?’. I mean, why should we announce if it’s just another part of our normal lives? Won’t you get to know if you’re meant to know?

How come the words ‘committed’ or ‘engaged’, in a multitude of minds, just associate themselves with romantic relationships alone? Can’t someone be committed to their family that requires special attention, their dreams that require extra efforts, just those regular chores that happen to be unusually long, or some self care practices that require more energy?

I strongly believe that commitment develops depths of emotions and understanding, be it in a hobby, a goal or a relationship. But, I don’t understand why this personal responsibility often gets mixed up with societal expectations.

Support Stake

Can’t claim to know those eyes
but I feel, their warm glimpse.
Can’t imagine the unseen face
but with it, I share a smile.

In this fleeting world
I struggle, to balance the float.
With a kind radiance
someone presents, a string of support.

They say some are for you
while some are not.
If family is a supportive group
can strangers be family too?

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Have your dreams ever been supported by a person you’ve hardly spoken to or met? If yes, I bet that must have felt great. This free verse is a little tribute to such angels in the dark.

Credits

In response to  Sadje’s ‘What Do You See Prompt #127’. 

One Last Time!

There was an owl, and a mail sometime later, with a prompt to get home soon. It was once home, and will always be. But barely did it strike then that your voice nor my name will ever be heard thereon. The why was never answered and it’ll remain so.

A new star studded to the dark sky. It began to burn fiercely with that fuel of the pain it left behind on the earth. It is still as bright as the first day even after years, as if the fuel never depleted and is far from running out.

Not a Death!

 

——– Maternal Mortality ——–

With her death, began his life!

——– Tribute ——–

Died for her after her life!

Disappearance

“I thought you’d leave me, forever”.

As a new norm, they communicate and discuss their deeply troubling issues in the relationship to strengthen the bond. But, this was totally unexpected. It’s not even a thought that has crossed the poor mind or that could even be imagined!

“After a little fight, your figure disappearing at the end of the street still remains inked in my mind. I hadn’t expected you to leave me then, that too locking me in.”

“I don’t even remember the incident. Which day are you talking about? Is it not a usual thing to lock you in when I go out temporarily so as to not disturb your task?”

Kill the Honour

Is it not time we kill those man-made social constructs like religion, race, caste, and class in which humans still hide their inexistent honour? Emphasizing this thought, this free verse is written with six words in each line, and a six-word story is quoted at the end.

Disparaging sanity of love, honour glows. 
The crushed dreams fuel its fire. 

Vulnerable

She was strong when he was.
She was weak when he was.
Locked in a cage by choice,
They found their freedom in captivity.
Their love began with a metaphor...

His killer smile,
Her vulnerable drug!  

Credits & Footnote

In response to Shweta’s ‘6WSP #82’ – ‘Drug’.

Featured image:
Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash.

Telepathy

This is a free verse, each line framed with six words, depicting the emotional connection between two persons in love. A six-word story is quoted at the end of the verse.

Hearing one's thoughts isn't a curse.

At sight, or out of sight...

A Piece of Cake

To her, happiness is just a piece of cake, literally.

But, no one at home lets her eat one.

She was over the moon as

Story Of Their Lives

Lakhs of people know his struggles, conflicts, and growth, but not the members of his home. They consider it fiction!

Eight months of marriage; now, a widow; she started writing her own story with remains of what the society pricked.

Lakhs of people know his struggles, conflicts, and growth, but not the members of his home. They consider it fiction!

Eight months of marriage; now, a widow; she started writing her own story with remains of what the society pricked.

Father Flops

A father is a loser, who loses…

his wife to a child.
his child to a mother.

Colors of the Dark

My sky seems dark. 

Is it because of the missing star, or the overwhelming mix of all colors it splashed?

A simple perception is the

His First Time

“Why did you do that?”

Sensing her oblique intention and harsh tone, her preteen son lied for the first time.

Worn Out

It’s been fifty years since our first house-warming, and it’s our first visit since the last twenty years.

These steps that I considered as nature’s gift to our house, have worn out unable to bear the weights of memories and repetitive human actions over time.

Photo for the prompt (from scvincent.com)

The flattened knob of the blue main door at the inside, remind my kids’ fast entry into the home from school, hitting it hard on the wall. The cushions on the old bamboo sofa look like flatbread slices filled with dust.

The rug at the entrance, when moved, portrays its duty of

Shatter and Solace

It has been seven years. Maaya’s still single, with no family. Day by day, her discomfort was growing bigger and bigger than her comforts, especially after her distant mother’s demise. Completely shattered, she decided to step out of her ruts and lookout for a new way to solace her disturbed mind.

She had her dinner, and then sent an email full of unsaid words that weighed heavy in her heart for a long time. She didn’t dare to check the mailbox again for a reply. The night passed restlessly. But still, she was determined not to turn on her internet till

Money – Six Word Stories #14

Here are my six-word stories on ‘money’ – a few collective stories, and a few individual ones.

——– Terminology ——–

Money’s just another socially developed concept.

The most common medium of exchange!

Cryptocurrency… digital commodity used as cash.

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——– Pandemic & Digital Life ——–

Pandemic’s yet another trouble… Coin shortage! 

Time – Six Word Stories #13

Here are my six-word stories on ‘time’ – a few collective stories, and a few individual ones.

——– School ——–

Sand clock, once entertained, now betrays.

He’s running around to avoid deadlines.

Clock ticks faster during morning rush.

Same appears slow in bored benches.

Family – Six Word Stories #12

A network that has signal 24×7!

Members who can always be reached!

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You love and are loved unconditionally.

Without extra efforts, bond gets stronger.

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She designed a digital family tree.

Remains one, even after branching paths!

Tossing Fun

Little Manu lived with his grandma on his vacation. He loved the food she cooks and was fascinated by watching her cook.

Whenever she cooked, he used to accompany her in the kitchen. Watching her simple culinary knacks of blending, chopping, grating, and baking immensely enthralled him.

One day, watching her toss the skillet, he gaped and got curious to try it out. He gathered little pebbles from the garden, borrowed a pan from his granny, and started his fun adventure.

He’d toss and fail. He’d try again only to fail again. After repeated attempts, he somehow wanted to perfect the toss.

But now, he changed his technique as well as the target. He took a pebble in hand, closed an eye, and