Day Eight: Death to Adverbs

I look out of my dining room window, I see little wisps of snow falling from the sky, they melt in the air, before they can touch the ground. The branches are swaying in the wind. The street outside is wet, showing no definitive sign of rain or snow.

Continue reading →

Day Seven: Give and Take

I am having trouble with two, just two conflicting personalities. Besides writing dialogues is not my cup of tea, so I am just going to get done with it.

Continue reading →

Meeting an interesting person  – another difficult prompt. As I mull over this one and turn it over and over in my head. It keeps bringing back Mary to my mind, her relentless, undying spirit shines like a beacon of light and hope that nothing is impossible.

Continue reading →

The watchman is blowing his whistle and beating the street with his cane and yelling, “Jagte raho” – Stay awake! Never understood why? Is  it for him or the thieves?  I hear footsteps, is he coming up the stairs? I rush down the stairs, that lead all the way into to the street. I see paper stuck on the dimly lit letter box at the end of the banister that reads, “Let us meet under the staircase of 1756.”

I  enjoyed writing without looking back or editing or trying to make logical sense, but somehow blogging for over six months in two blogs has made me more conscience and aware of all the grammatical mistakes and the prepositions that I swallow while writing and I have become more of a logical writer than a spontaneous one. For better or worse, I am going to attempt “one of those” spontaneous, uninterrupted versions as I commit myself to a writing practice everyday.

Continue reading →

Scribbling on a piece of paper, writing, releasing your thoughts without an agenda is so liberating and directionless at the same time. It feels like, I decided to go on a hike in the wilderness, without a plan. Looking at the trails crisscross each other in front of me gives me the delight of a choice as well as the freedom of going with what feels right rather than what is right or what may be right. Simply because with writing as with hiking, there is no right or a wrong.

Continue reading →

I was sitting on the verandah and mulling over my predicament, at twelve, I was too old to play tag with my buddies – who were all atleast four to five years younger than me. Once upon a time, I was  their leader, I had to decide what games would be played – tag, hide-n- seek, hopscotch or ring toss among many other games.

Continue reading →