"That Tuesday Thingy" contest entry - Notes of the Heart!

This is an attempt at the "That Tuesday Thingy" contest organized by the lady blogger brigade  www. Indiblogeshwaris.com

Traveling through narrow lanes,

Greeting bright faces,

Walking through alleys of pretty smiles,

The heart beats in notes...

Seven in all, creating a symphony -

That dances in the tunnels of senses.

Memories, moments and magic

All woven in simple complexity

Of these septenary notes,

Create ripples of vibrance

That murmur an elixir knit in acoustic,

Speaking in melody.

The shades of life -

Thus spring to a new essence

Tapping the soul

To the tune of 

Eternal bliss. 

Reminiscences.

Wild chase through these  memories,

Unfold a postcard from the past.

Clicked in eyes of the heart..

Preserved for eternity, but momentarily lost.

Responsibility of mundane cares,

Make calendar after calendar flip away.

But all it takes to help the soul,

Is this tidy little  reflection

Coin(ed) to hold, created to grasp

The moments of fulfillment,

In finding these joys,

Reblooming, in the garden of life.

Write Tribe prompt #4

My world - revolves around you,

Rotating around your thoughts.

Dizzy it does make me,

The momentum of your love.

I have peeled the layers of my heart,

Like it were a bloom

Offering them to you,

With nothing hidden or held back.

Rips it does, the nuances of my being,

In pain oh so sweet.

Amid the careless world, I stand

On the road leading to your soul

Giving my very best.

Pick me up, or drop me down -

Your whim molds my destiny, thus!

And as long as you lay your touch

On this feeble mortal,

Be it to soothe or to torture -

Accept, this existence does,

With a content smile.

Picture courtesy - http://sarabbit.openphoto.net/gallery/

Write tribe Prompt #2 - You only live once.

Tracey walked briskly on the mud roads, miles of lavender swayed on either side with the aid of swift winds that rubbed on the scent of the blooms drifting gently in the air, kissing Tracey's face with the therapeutic aroma. She ended up in the south of France, all the way from San Diego California, to meet Carl. It seemed like ages since she last saw him, though, it wasn't more than an hour since she spoke to him from the airport, once she got down. She was supposed to take a little detour, to visit Provence, her dream land. The lavender doused fields, the crisp spring air and the many layers of nature that unfolded before her like magic, making her long awaited moments translate into reality. It wasn't easy - none of  it. Her busy schedule at work, her family, her preteen and 10 year old begging her to stay back and not go to the 'undisclosed' location and finally, to let her husband of eighteen years to grant the permission to disappear for a whole fortnight. When this time of the year comes, nothing stops her from making that one most awaited trip to some corner of the world to meet Carl.

This time it was Rome.  Rome, the Holy city. Being raised a Roman Catholic, no other place in the world held the same prominence as this Eternal city. Being to the place with Carl only added to the charm of visiting the city for the very first time in her four decades of existence. She'd been to far and wide - To India, to Tibet, to Laos and Phuket - and to numerous places in Europe, most of them with Carl, or to see Carl. But this one trip made her experience an anticipation that was not known to her before. Tracey's thoughts take unexpected trails, just like her spontaneous self. She'd been in the medical profession for over a decade now - specializing in Obstetrics. She'd seen hundreds of couples realize their dreams of progeny. She had acted like God, on behalf of him - gently correcting what His nature had inadvertently messed up. She had seen tears of Joy, of heart break and numerous miracles all along and she knew that without divine intervention, all these would have been impossible. Her every success, every failure and every trail had Carl as a witness, directly or indirectly - to her, he was the biggest source of support and inspiration. Nothing or no one in the world seemed to know her better than him. Tracey spent the next couple of days in a cabin that had a lake front - doing precisely nothing but devouring the magic of nature. Then she caught her flight to Leonardo DaVinci International airport, 42 kilometers away from Rome.

She pulled her duffle bag from the carousel and waited absentmindedly, sipping the cappuccino she picked up in the airport. Where did Carl get stuck? His flight from Austin, Texas was supposed to reach here before hers. She knew he is somewhere near her and just when she was about to turn back, Carl came and stood right behind her, saying "boo"  in his deep voice.Startled but grinning ear to ear, Tracey turned back to greet him - gently planting a kiss on his cheek.

They both disappear into the crowd, off to hire a taxi to their hotel room near the Vatican, while both of them exchanged animated stories about their kids and families.

It was their 18th sibling reunion and they didn't let anyone else intrude these special moments.

Pic Prompt Blog - The Closed Doors - A short story.

The fatigue of a long flight from the other side of the globe took onto Maya as she paced the stone paved roads of Alberobello. She traced the identical looking streets as though searching for something. The mid afternoon sun pierced her through her crisp white sundress, making beads of sweat break on her flawless face. She pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief from her straw hand bag and dabbed on her face. 

"How do I ever find out?" She wondered aloud - freezing in the middle of the steep street, looking at the array of doors stacked like Lego blocks. There had to be a little clue, a wee ray of hope somewhere, in making her find what she is looking for.

She animatedly flipped the paper she is clutching onto - as if hoping that it would work like a magic wand and open one of those doors to unite her with her quest. Instead, the paper escaped her gentle grip and floated parallel to the stone paved street. She quickly hurried into big steps, finally getting a hold of it and tucking it into her bag. 

"What use is the paper anyway?, I have no clue what the exact address is - Or if it really is this very town that is going to open the doors to my unanswered questions" She thought while settling on a raised step nearby. She pulled out her wallet, and looked longingly at her parents , Martha and Steve, holding her as a two year old. It never stuck her this hard, the unsimilarity of them and her - Their knotty hair, soulful black eyes and ebony skin forming a contrast on her naturally occurring  Mediterranean tan and hazel eyes. It took her a few years to understand the fact that they are not her biological parents, and a few more years to come to terms with it - Or so she thought. She never came to terms with it actually. She wanted to travel to where she belonged, where her actual mom and dad stayed - all with meager clues and incomplete facts.

Maya turned back to the sound of an opening door - a little girl stepped out, holding a baby doll - She approached Maya and spoke something in Italian. 

Maya ruffled her hair with a smile. "I don't speak Italian,Honey" She answered knowing for sure that those words would be as foreign to the little girl as the Italian she just heard was to her.

The girl stopped talking and looked at her in puzzled amusement.

"Maya come inside" - a voice gently drifted from the insides of the door.

A middle aged man stepped out of the door. Maya looked at him puzzled, asking him how he knew her name. 

'It is the name of my daughter" - He answered her in heavily accented English.

"What a coincidence?" - Maya exclaimed letting out a peal of laughter - I am Maya too.

The man bent forward and offered to shake Maya's hand - "My name is Alberto" - "Are you a tourist? You look very Italian!"

"I am Italian, she answers - till my parents decided to renounce me one day" 

Alberto looked at her with misty eyes - "Just like my Maya" He whispered. 

Maya held the hand of little Maya and pulled her into her embrace.

"You will perhaps have a journey to make dearie, a quest to discover the burden of your own existence, and I hope you find your answers"

Little Maya looked on confused, a half smile fading into a frown, wiping Maya's tears away tenderly!


Picture Courtesy - Fotolia.

One Hundred (words).

She walks carelessly, on a mission. She has to find something. The drawers get ransacked, things scatter around. She settles in the clutter, looking like a gnome in the center of a flower patch.
 "What are you doing?" a voice asks, "Look at this mess" -
"I'll clean it as soon as I find luck."
"Luck?
"Yes,My lucky penny is missing in this catastrophe "
 "Catastrophe?"
"It is a fancy word for mess, I heard dad use it."
She gets up, grabs her rag doll, and walks away leaving the 'catastrophe' behind for the mom to flex her muscles on.

Reflections

     It's been an amazingly productive blogging month, though, I had many ponders that were put on the back burner, since I chose to blog in the verse form, taking it to a hardcore level of starting each line of the poem with the same alphabet :-)) And suddenly, when the month is over and my obligation to blog came to an end along with it, I realized that the ponders I wanted to blog about had vanished miraculously, or may be they are there, but the will to ponder upon them completely disappeared form the system.

     I thought, I'd reflect upon the challenge at least, and not let the lack of the pressure to participate come in between me and my blogging journey. So, here goes the unedited 'shitty first draft' christened 'Reflections'.
I took the challenge in last April - and when I look back at those postings, I clearly see how most of them were 'forced' to keep up the self-imposed obligation. This time around, I had a wonderful support system, an audience that stopped by for each post and said things that made me want to write more and more. It is just amazing, how a little encouragement takes us a long way in giving out our best. So, thanks to all the blogger friends who lavished their generous praise on my awkwardly chopped verses (if I could have the audacity to call them that ;-)
   
     I also had my world open up to many different shades of blogging - the travelogues, the mom's memories, the blogs that put a smile to your face, the blogs that dripped of sarcasm, making you laugh out loud, the pictorials that made me gasp, the personal stories, the fictitious ones, the book reviews, the humorous blogs, the Haiku poetry, the lessons of life profound enough for every grown up, though aimed to teach kids, the culture blogs, the poems...it was a true grand gala buffet of varied view points, and styles of writing. I did not for once, regret having stopped all the books I was reading before I started the A-Z journey, for the blogs I was reading were filling up for the bestsellers I choose to read. I made many friends, discovered many talents that I'd not have discovered otherwise.I should thank Arpna Singh for introducing to the A-Z challenge last year and being my biggest supporter till date, Corinne Rodrigues for leading me by example, and Shail Mohan for introducing me to all these gems of bloggers that I'd have otherwise missed out on - and more importantly for bringing me out of my 'talking to myself' mode of blogging...as much as I enjoyed the calm and quiet of this blog, I must admit, I shall cherish, very dearly, all the visits, comments and attention A-Z 2013 had brought into my blogging world.

     Lastly, and most importantly, I discovered yet again, that writing on a regular basis does not really need a endless source of ideas or inspirations - All it takes is the commitment to log into the blog and make an effort to write...I was amazed at how productive I was the whole month, jotting down words from my memory bank and weaving ideas out of nowhere, just because I had the obligation of writing every day. It also made me realize that writing need not be  'intellectual' or 'creative' - it should just be sincere - and when sincerity reflects in your writings, even the most flat ideas come across as works of art ;)

Day 26 - Z for Zenith :-)

Zilch was the change in the pocket,
Zeal for life was speeding like a rocket,
Zig zag path to attaining success,
Zips up tight, to give more distress.
Zooming past, opportunities mock!
Zing and pizzazz stay under a lock.
Zest of triumph, please grace the track,
Zillion dreams, in reality, would stack!
Zen filled world, niftily unfold,
Zenith of delight appears, Behold!


:-) :-) :-)
That sums up the challenge.

It's been a joyous ride, thanks to all the company I had - and in comparison to how it went last year, I must say, this experience is a hoot! :-) I cannot believe that I managed to stick to a pattern all throughout, though, truth be told, I was tempted umpteen times to stray and do something else (Given my attention span of a two year old ;-))  For those of you who asked me how I did this - I have no clue! - Every day was an ordeal of sorts, but the saving grace was that thoughts did come easily on some days. I had discovered long forgotten words in my subconscious and stretched my limits to use unfitting words, just to stick to the self imposed tradition. Now, I am relieved that I can just do away with awkwardly chopped poetry and write paragraphs, uncensored, the way they emerge from the mind.

Thanks to all the regular readers, the regular feedback and to the lurkers as well - since this phase has seen the page loader shooting through the lap top screen. Makes me want to believe that there are many silent supporters who grace this blog.

Please keep it coming - silently or otherwise :-)

God Bless!

Day 25 - Y for Yearning.

Yards of expressions, from
Yesterdays to todays,
Yearn to come out,
Yielding fabrics of repose.
Yet, the grey cells, restlessly clamor
Yelping to yank you out -
You, stuck thought -
Yo-yoing in the rifts of the spirit -
Your hide and seek gets to my Nerves!
Yap out to me your intentions,
Yoke your form to my words!

Day 24 - X for XXIV

Xemepting from spelling,
X Gen blogger, makes an
Xcentric entry,
Xcluding rules of grammar!
Xcited about the Xecution
Xstatic for no reason,
Xploring balderdash,
Xclaiming insanity!
Xpressions stray from the path...
Xperiencing the high - On day
XXIV!

This one is a revamped, recycled post, doesn't help that X is a tough letter to give this kind of treatment ;) - Hopefully, I'll get better by 'Y' to write something new tomorrow :-)

Day 23 - W for Writings

Widely, they open,
Within them, many a tale
Waiting to be told!
Wandering around, they rest
Wishing to assert
Wisdom and wit,
Wrapped in confinements of
Words and letters!
Waves of reflection,
Weaving plentiful yarns
Wither and bloom.
With them, fables emerge -
Weeding out the sloth!
World it is, these scribbles,
Wrapped inside them,
Wrecks of ponders
Wrestling with confusion,
Wanting to search for the faith,
Whispering the gospels of musings,
Welcoming with them,
Writings from the soul!