Carpe Diem #472, Worship (Hindu Mythology)

At Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, our gracious host Kristjaan  has shared with us a wonderful story about Lord Krishna  and his devotee ,Uttanga. If you are interested in reading the story please visit this url  http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.in/2014/05/carpe-diem-472-worship-hindu-mythology.html#comment-form

 

The challenge is to write a  Haiku, senryu, tanka, kyoka or haibun inspiured by this story. I chose  a  tanka (5-7-5-7-7) and managed to write two.Hope you will enjoy reading them:-)

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Krishna plays his flute
the message of love comes
floating in the wind
equality,compassion
therein lies true devotion.

 

Like Uttanga don’t
let appearances fool you
Krishna’s blessings are
reserved for the pure of heart
those who can love one and all.

 

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Just Desserts

As Melina reached her doorstep, the clouds shifted, casting an ominous shadow on the ground. She shivered and then shrugged off the feeling of unease. A blue envelope peeped out from the letter box. Her fingers trembled when she picked it up, noticing the very familiar handwriting. Julian!

She took a deep breath and went inside .She slit open the envelope. A white monogrammed sheet slipped out. It had been two long years-of heartbreak, heart ache, loneliness and healing. Why now? Why again? Melina started to read.

 

17th September,London

 My Sweet Mel,

It’s been a long time and yet it seems just like yesterday. Believe me; you were never far from my heart. I just wanted to let you know that Betty and I decided to go our own ways. I have returned to our country house, which won’t be a home till its rightful mistress returns to it. I know you will find it in your heart to forgive me and return home.

Waiting for you,

Only yours

Ju

 Melina was aghast! What temerity! To think that she would return to him after what he put her through? Two long years without a word! The memories she had so painstakingly wound up in skeins were coming unravelled and she had no control over it.

She had loved Julian and had believed he loved her too. They had been together for five years and were planning to get married. But then Bettina aka Betty had walked into their lives and everything had fallen apart. Only she had not known, till it was too late. Julian had eloped with Betty. She was a rich heiress and it had all been in the news the next morning. Disbelief, betrayal, grief had made Melina go numb

.It had taken her more than a year to get her life back on tracks. Thanks to her wonderfully rewarding career and of course Shawn. Finally, she was breathing again without choking on a ragged piece of painful memory.

No, Julian, I carried the scars of your love long enough. Now it is time for you to pay.

She had a plan. She called Shawn.

“It’s playing with fire Melina! You sure you want to do this?”

“I am positive. Julian cannot get away with playing with my emotions.”

“Fine .I will set the wheels in motion. All will be ready in two week’s time.”

Melina replied to Julian that night.

20^th September,Derby

 Darling Ju,

I am beyond myself with happiness. I knew true love will win.

 I will be driving down to our house on 23r^d.

I am dying to see you.

Lovingly yours

Mel

Next day, Melina went shopping. She pulled all stops and got a total makeover. Shawn teased her mercilessly about him being cuckolded which made Melina laugh.

On 23^rd evening, the astounded look on Julian’s face at her new avatar was reward enough for her efforts. Ten days of romancing had Julian eating out of her hand and she kept him hooked by not allowing him in her bed. On the eleventh day Julian proposed with a solitaire.

Melina accepted on the condition that the wedding would take place in three days time at Derby in the Magistrate’s office at 10 in the morning. Additionally they would neither meet nor talk to each other before the wedding date. Julian agreed and Melina returned to Derby.

 Three days later Julian reached the magistrate’s office dot at 10, dressed in his new tuxedo, looking dapper. A few minutes later he was surprised to be surrounded by the Paparazzi. He wondered who had tipped them off but then smiled, puffing up with importance-he was quite well known.

The newshounds started firing questions at him.

“Sir, heard you are getting married today?”

“Is it true that the lucky lady is your first girlfriend?”

“ Isn’t she the one you deserted to elope with Bettina, your ex?”

Julian began sweating.

“Where is your intended?”

“Hope she is not going to leave you stranded here!”

Everyone tittered.

Julian felt his face redden. Never in his life had he been so humiliated. Where was Melina?

Unseen, Melina and Shawn watched the whole drama unfold, grinning at each other. Their plan had worked. Tomorrow’s headlines were sure to tom –tom this juicy bit of news and Julian would be history. Melina felt her heart soar at the thought. Revenge was surely sweet.

 

 

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This is my response to Speakeasy’s weekly prompt #161 which required us to (a)write a response(fiction or poetry) in 750 words or less (mine is 735, including the title) (b) using the following sentence anywhere in your submission: “The clouds shifted, casting an ominous shadow on the ground.” and (c) make some reference to the media prompt,which this week is a music video by Adele,”Rolling in the deep.” . For more details and rules,please click on the url below

http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/fiction-challenge-161-open/

Winter’s child

 

“Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold.”As Eve stood shivering on the bathroom mat, looking at the red streak snaking down her legs, the chill rose up to freeze her from within and outside. She fought the tears tottering on the slippery threshold of her consciousness, wondering why this was happening to her.

 
She had followed the Doctor’s orders and she and George had seen to it that they did not miss the days marked on the calendar. It had not been easy but neither of them had demurred. Yet, it seemed that the seed she desperately hoped would bloom refused to take root. Her womb continued to be barren, month after month. At times, she wondered if God was punishing her for something that had in no way been her fault.

 
Shoulders drooping, she dragged herself back to bed. George stirred but then snuggled back under the warm covers. Sleep evaded her though she tried her best to court it. Ruefully she let it slip away and resigned herself to a few more hours of “mind-hoopla” as she called it. Her mind flitted from thoughts to memories to thoughts in a never ending loop.

 
She was born into a wealthy family but her parents were too busy playing to the gallery to really care. The children were just trophies to be exhibited on certain occasions. Her elder brother Josh was a carbon copy of their Dad and idolized him. Their younger sister was a wallflower, with no opinion of her own and content to live as directed. Eve, on the other hand was a rebel.

 
Thus she was happy to leave home for college at nineteen. There she met Matt. He was a pleasant change from all the people she used to meet in her pseudo life at home. Both felt an instant attraction, which over the next two years developed into deep love.

 

Eve knew her parent’s reaction to her choice and so she hid it from them till the day Matt joined the hospital as a full time Doctor.
Matt promised to take her to meet his parents during Thanksgiving. They both wanted a Christmas wedding.

 
The meeting however never took place, nor did the wedding. Driving to work next week, Matt met with an accident and he died on the spot.

 
Eve was beyond herself with grief and went home for the first time in four years. She was sick so often that it took her some time to realize that she was pregnant. She was shocked at first but then overjoyed .However, her joy was short-lived for her family did not approve of her having a baby out of wedlock.

 
She could still remember the conversation word to word.

 

Her Mom had looked at her with utmost distaste as if she was something the cat dragged in “Why must you insist on bringing shame to the family name?”

 
“After all that we have done for you is this how you repay us?” shouted her Dad, his swarthy face turning purple.

 
Not to be left behind, her ineffacious brother declared, “We can’t let you have his bastard.”

 
Her sister of course had nothing to say.

 
Eve decided not to bow to their pressure tactic but she had underestimated her parent’s guile and wickedness. One night, they drugged her and spirited her away to a private nursing home. When she came to, it was already too late. As soon as she could walk, she left home and never looked back.

 

 
Even George believed she was an orphan and she had no intention of revealing these dark secrets to him, ever.

 
She sighed and decided to get up as dawn crawled in slowly. She put the kettle on and watched snow drifting down relentlessly. The sky looked dull, just like her mood. She called her Doctor around noon from her office-she did not want George to be privy to this setback-at least not today. Her Doctor told her to come in the next day.

 
Next morning Eve woke up and was taken aback. She had not bled at all during the night-what was going on? Was she ill?

 
With trepidation she walked into the clinic. The shadow of uncertainty loomed large as she lay down on the examination table.

 
A few hours later, she was driving back, a smile on her lips. The miracle of spring was accumulating in her womb and she could not wait to celebrate its arrival with her beloved George.

 

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This is my response to Speakeasy’s weekly prompt #157 which required us to (a)write a response(fiction or poetry) in 750 words or less (mine is 748, including the title) (b) using the following sentence as the FIRST line in your submission: “Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold.” and (c) make some reference to the media prompt,which this week the  drawing above, by Leonardo da Vinci, entitled Study of a Womb.

The challenge is open to everyone,so if you want to join in or read the other entries,please click on the url http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/fiction-challenge-157-open/

 




The promise

Friday Fictioneers

Yay!Finally it is Wednesday!So what is so great about it you say?Ah,but unless you are a FF junkie like me and have missed a week  for any reason-mine being  ill-health-you would not understand 🙂 You see our wonderful hostess with the mostest,lovely and super talented writer Rochelle has created a magical world for flash fiction writers at FF.Every week,over hundred writers from around the globe,hop,skip and jump to weave 100 word tales based on a photo prompt.If you are a story teller too  or love to read stories,do check  this cool site by clicking on this URL  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/friday-fictioneers-2/ .I promise you will be hooked forever:-)

This week, the photo is by DLovering and my 101 words,including the title follow the photo.

 

copyright – DLovering

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The promise

 

Last minute decorations were being added.

 

Excitement permeated the wedding venue.

 

 The Bride felt nothing except anxiety.

 

 She loved another.

 

The bridegroom arrived amid loud fanfare.

 

Everyone rushed to welcome them.

 

The Bride clutched the phial of poison tightly. He had promised…

 

Suddenly the gaiety was disrupted by a band of masked men on horses.

 

They fired.

 

Bandits!!

 

People screamed.

 

The gang leader scooped the bride up on his horse.

 

As they rode across the border, the bride hugged the Bandit.

 

 “I was so afraid.”

 

“You needn’t have. I never break a promise,” replied her lover, hugging her back.

 

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Judas kiss

Trifecta: Week 114

Am sad to learn that Trifecta has decided to close shop and though it has been sometime(around 6/7 weeks) that I last entered a challenge here,I will still miss Trifecta.I had never written fiction before I found Trifecta,just a month after I started my blog at WP in Dec 2012 .I was excited and decided to jump on the bandwagon and what a ride it was! I wrote twice every week,for almost a year and though I never placed but I was thrilled as I realized I can write too.It was a lovely learning experience and it gave me the confidence to write for other sites.My biggest  plus was of course making some awesome friends and interacting with amazing fellow writers.I will forever remember Trifecta and the community fondly.I would have felt sadder,had I not joined Trifecta in this last month,with the hope that maybe they will return with a new format and new challenges/ideas for us.I wish them all the best-Lisa,Laura and Draug-the amazing hosts and talented editors on board,thank you so much for everything.Without any more rambling let me post the rules and my piece,before it closes.I have never submitted so late(and written so fast either),lol!

Word prompt for this week is-

SATISFY  (transitive verb)
1a : to carry out the terms of (as a contract) : discharge
  b : to meet a financial obligation to
2: to make reparation to (an injured party) : indemnify
3a : to make happy : please  

 b : to gratify to the full : appease
4a : convince
  b : to put an end to (doubt or uncertainty) : dispel
5a : to conform to (as specifications) : be adequate to (an end in view)

Remember: 

 

• Your response must be exactly 33 words. 

• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post. 

• The word itself needs to be included in your response. 

• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 

• Only one entry per writer. 

• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz. 

• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us. 

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.wugDmdVg.dpuf

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Judas kiss

 

Saccharine sweetness

enthralls,

yet

quicksilver emotions

fail to

satisfy

cravings

of my soul

Blade of indifference

lacerates.

Venom in my angst

 I wince,

watching you

retreat,

immune to

my heart’s cicatrix-

still raw.

 

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The homecoming

                            Image courtesy of Unsplash.

 

 

The homecoming

 

Sitting on the porch with a cup of his favourite chamomile tea, Henry welcomed the Sun. Mornings gave him hope. His eyes scanned the road but nothing moved except the trees at the far end –her sentinels, Mabel had said. Henry smiled and went inside. It was time to go to work.

His day at the farm passed in a flurry of activity as it was harvest season-the busiest of all times and he was happy to note that this year the yield had been almost double the last. At this rate he would soon be able to buy that piece of land he had been eyeing for the last 3 years. He wondered if Mabel would have approved and sighed .He still missed her.

Driving home, he stopped at the local Deli to pick up some groceries. Living alone had its disadvantages but he never forgot to stock up .He did not intend to compromise his health and it showed. His face was smooth and his body rugged and muscular, belying the forty years that he had crossed. His boyish charm and easy manner made him look a decade younger.

After supper, Henry picked up the book he had been reading. It was by a new author, someone named M.Aniston and he was enjoying it. An hour later he was thinking of calling it a night when a sentence caught his eye and he jerked into total wakefulness. The hero, John, was beseeching the heroine, Shyla to reconsider her decision to leave town and him, but she was adamant. She wanted to chase her dreams. So John says,” You could’ve made a safer bet, but what you break is what you get.”

Henry couldn’t believe his eyes! How could that be? Those were the very words that he had said to Mabel when she had left him to pursue her career in the big city ten years back. She did not want to be a farm girl she had said. But wait, M could be her initial and wasn’t Aniston an anagram for Santino? Well, before he jumped to any conclusion, he wanted to check the ending of the novel. And there it was, on the last page. He read aloud,”Shyla ran sobbing into John’s arms, saying,” You wake up in the bed you make. I think you made a big mistake by allowing me to leave. John Cabot, You own me. There’s nothing you can do. You own me.”

Henry was almost beside himself with excitement and joy. He logged on to the net and googled the details of the Publishing Company. It was a two hour journey to the city. He also googled M.Aniston and was not surprised to see an old snap of his Mabel .He could hardly wait for morning to arrive.

He would never spend any more restless nights with only the blanket of his memories for company. It was time for the sentinels to welcome their mistress home, forever.

 

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This was written for  Writing Prompt: Week 10 at Write on Edge.The challenge was(1) to write 500 words or less of fiction of any genre based either on the photo prompt given above or(2) use the quote,

You could’ve made a safer bet, but what you break is what you get.
You wake up in the bed you make. I think you made a big mistake.

You own me. There’s nothing you can do. You own me.

~Mark Berninger of The National, Lucky You“

(3)or use both .

I decided to use both  the quote and the photo prompt and the word count including the title is 498.If you are interested in joining  or reading the entries,please click on this url http://writeonedge.com/

 

 

 

 

No foul play

 the speakeasy at yeah write #151

No foul play

“Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes.”

Gerry stopped writing and shut his diary with force. Anger and sorrow struggled with each other to gain foothold. Sorrow won. He missed her. If only…

He went and stood by the window. Night had decided to wear her star spangled coat and was busy romancing the full moon. He closed the window. Such beauty pained him.

His mind went back to the time when all was orderly, or so it seemed. His Dad was a soldier and was home only on short holidays. He was a good father and a dutiful husband but nothing more. His mother on the other hand, was an artist with a passionate temperament, which she kept well hidden under routine. He was an ordinary boy living an ordinary life.

Then one day, when he was fourteen, it all changed. His Dad came back from Afghanistan sans his right leg. Wallowing in self –pity, his Dad took to the bottle. His mom tried her best to take care of the family by taking up odd jobs but it was not enough. She had been a beautiful woman, but her face stated to lose its glow with the constant worry. Soon, his father started becoming abusive. Initially it was only verbal but then it escalated into physical blows.

Life dragged on, with no respite for the family. The only silver lining on the black cloud called “crisis” was Gerry’s excellent grades at school.

One night, when Gerry was sixteen, he found his mom in the basement painting the walls furiously. He was astonished to see the vibrant colours and bold strokes that she used. He watched silently, as she added a cobalt blue and then contrasted it with a flaming orange. Later he convinced her to let the artist in her take charge.

She surprised everyone by excelling in her chosen field and very soon, many art galleries were showing interest in her work. She had her first independent show, when Gerry turned eighteen. Soon after, he left for college on a full scholarship. Life seemed to have steadied itself.

At college, he made friends and enjoyed studying. He received letters from his Mom which told him about her shows and he was happy that she was tasting success. He was unable to visit home for the next two years as there were some extra courses he had opted for which needed him to stay back during the breaks. So, when he went home, he was a little puzzled to see his mom looking radiant but a little flustered, as if she had a secret.

Two days before he was due to return, he learnt of his mom’s secret. She told him that she had met Bud, another artist-a sculptor- six months back and they had fallen in love. However, as his mom was not free there was no future for them. Gerry was happy for his mom and expressed his wish to meet Bud. A meeting was arranged and he was pleased with his mom’s choice. However, his Dad posed a problem. He was not ready to let his wife go and said”no” to divorce. His drinking and violent behaviour took a turn for the worst. Bidding her a fond farewell, Gerry promised his mom to be back during Christmas to find a solution.

But that was not to be. Six weeks to Christmas, he received news about his Mom’s death and had to rush home. Police officers said that they had found his mother lying with her neck broken at the end of the stairs leading to the basement. Possibly she had slipped .They ruled out any foul play as his Dad was found dead drunk, on the sofa in the hallway. Gerry had his reasons to believe otherwise.

A few days after the funeral, Gerry plied his Dad with drink after drink. He kept egging him on and implying that he was glad his mom was no more. Still, his blood froze when he heard his Dad confess.

“Ah, I hated that bitch! Pushing her that day felt damned good. No one leaves me!!”His Dad growled in a slurred voice.

A week later, Gerry slipped back into the house, unnoticed, and pushed his drunken Dad down the stairs. He was satisfied to hear the squelching sound his Dad’s head made when it struck the corner of the marble slab at the bottom.

Police ruled out any foul play, again.

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This was written for the Speakeasy weekly writing prompt, the speakeasy at yeah write #151 ,which is to write a piece in 750 words or less (mine is 748 words,including the title) (a) using “Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes.” as the first sentence,and (b) include some sort of reference to the photograph posted above, taken by Czintos Ödön.If you are interested in reading all the entries or joining the challenge please click on this url- http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/151-open/

 

Retrospect

Retrospect

 

Drop by drop I sipped

from the wine of love

Never noticed how

my lips turned blue

Bit by bit I partook

from passion’s loaf

Failed to see when

it grew cold and stale

Brick by brick

I built castles in the air

But forgot to take care

termites of mistrust laid them bare

Thread by thread I wove

this tapestry of life

But closed my eyes to the

moths of strife

Knew not when

my knight’s shining armour

Turned red with rust

While his white steed

turned to grey dust

Little by little it all dawns on me

as I turn and look back,

woe is me!

Seam by seam I unravel

the knots in my heart

Beam by beam I tear down

 our love story apart.

 

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The above poem was written for http://dversepoets.com/   OpenLinkNight ~ February 2014.

To read what others have written or to participate click on the link above.

Unwrapping the memories

Unwrapping the memories

 

Languid days tied with a satin ribbon

I open the window to my soul

dust the cobwebs off

unlocking fragile memories,

forgotten fragrances

Of you…

Wrapped in scented tissue

pink as the first blush of love

here lies my memory

of the day when I saw you first

Wrapped in multi-coloured scarf

are the rainbow dreams I dared to dream

When I pursued you relentlessly

Knowing I had no chance

to be the crème de la creme

Here is the green kerchief soaked in

Tears of jealousy

containing  my envy

when I saw you with other girls

all sows, I thought, around my pearl

This white envelope

dotted with drops of red

my bleeding heart’s tears

when i did not see you for years

And  wrapped in cellophane

here is the scrapbook

where I squirreled away

nuggets of information,

About you.

Bubble wrapped carefully,

these are my  galloping heartbeats

when I saw you next

Tied with a silver ribbon

what are these?

of course, treasured memory

Of our friendship

Passion I wrapped in this satin box

the hugs and kisses

you had showered non-stop

Oh,and this golden packet

most priceless of all

I wrapped all your love

lest  I forgo it all

This crimson bottle holds

my red hot rage,when

 of your lies, I took umbrage

At the bottom of this all

 lies  a big black pack

in it are stacked the bleached bones of

Our love

This latest pack

wrapped in all white

marks  our mutual exoneration

Am keeping the diamond wrapped vase

enclosing our love,

on display

‘cos my heart is sure

faith will never lead us astray.

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The above poem was written for dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight ~ Week 133.

Scent of yesterday

Scent of yesterday

 

The exquisite dress showcased in the display window took Trisha’s breath away. Her pupils dilated, her heart hammered in her chest and she felt faint.

“Get a grip girl, this is London and not Paris,” she admonished herself.

Still, she could not stop herself from looking up to check the name of the shop.”En amour”! Her head reeled. No, it was just not possible!

Trisha was suddenly afraid. Should she enter the shop? Was it worth the risk? What if it turned out to be true? And what if it did not? Did she truly want to know?

With trepidation, she entered the shop. Immediately, her senses were assailed by the fragrance of mimosas-her favourite. A young shop assistant came up to her, “May I help you Madam?”

“Ugh, was wondering if you could tell me the price of that dress in the window?”

“Oh, Madam our apologies but that dress is not for sale.” With that she pointed to a small card which Trisha had missed and it said, “Not for sale.”

“I see. Could you please tell me the name of the designer?”

“Monsieur Felix Pierre. He is also the proprietor.”

Trembling like a leaf within, Trisha asked ,”Would it be possible to meet him?”

“If you can wait a little, you can, He usually arrives at lunch time.”

“I shall return after an hour then.”

Sipping on her cappuccino, her mind travelled backwards and she found herself back in Paris. At nineteen, she was a successful model working for top design houses. She met Felix-then a struggling designer, at a fashion party. She had found him charming and great company. Soon, they were spending all their free time together. Both discovered they loved the same kind of music, books and art. They both loved to cook and both were passionate about their careers. Trisha also realized that Felix was extremely talented and introduced him to many top notch designers.

Within no time, Felix started making headlines with his stunning designs and at the same time, their love for each other blossomed. He told her that his dream was to open a shop someday for a select clientele. Then, he won a national award for one of his designs. They were ecstatic.

Trisha remembered how Felix had taken her on a picnic and proposed with a bunch of mimosas and a solitaire. Their wedding was to be held in the Loire valley and the reception would be in” La Grande Cascade.”

Tears pricked her eyes and a bitter taste filled her mouth as she remembered how she had been left standing at the altar and the endless days of waiting, hurting, the unanswered questions….

No, she told herself vehemently, she did not want to know the answers now. Ten years had gone by and she had made peace with her past. No point picking at old wounds .As she exited the mall, she mused, yes; sometimes time is the longest distance between two places.

 

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This was written for ,Write on Edge,Writing Prompt: 2014, Week 7.We were required to use the quote,”“Time is the longest distance between two places.”~Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie as an opening/closing line, draw inspiration from a single word within it, or choose the given photo prompt instead.Word limit 500.I chose the quote and word count,including the title is 499. If you would like to read what others have submitted for this challenge or would love to participate,please click on the link http://writeonedge.com/2014/02/writing-prompt-2014-week-7/