Hidden

 

Wet moon

Weeping…

Searching…

 

Toddler son

Playing…

Missing…

 

Shining torches

Searching…

Crying…

 

Behind bushes

Sleeping…

Hugging!

©ArchanaSarat2015

The Diary of a Cobra

I know no place but home.
I can live nowhere but home.
That little dark hole at the foot
of the hill by the dark green forest

is what I call home.

That yellow metal monster
smashed the rocks around me.
I kept thinking,
'Nah, the next will not be me.'
However, it did come around
and smashed to the ground
my 3 babies and my home.

Before I could say,
"Oh, hell!"
Crept before me little vertical cells
that reached all the way
to the sky.

Now, they complain
when they meet me,
again and again,
Look at their audacity,
Wasn't this actually my city?

 ©ArchanaSarat2015

D: Discipline

Malini pulled 8 year old Aarav into the room and shut the door. She had 'the Stick' with her. Aarav shuddered in front of her.

"I saw you with my own eyes. You were hitting that little boy. How can you do such a thing? Have you no heart?" She brought down the cane on him twice. Aarav seemed to be steeling himself not to cry. However, Malini couldn't notice such things. "You will be called a rowdie. No one will be your friend." She brought down the cane, once again. "Why did you do that?"

"Mama, I was only disciplining him," he said.

The cane froze in her arm.

©ArchanaSarat2015

C: Cheese

 

Nirmala checked her list once again. Only ‘cheese slices’ was left. She ran her finger through the wide collection in the frozen section, reading the names silently. Only her moving lips revealed her attention. ‘Go, Britannia, Govardhan, Happy Cow.’ She turned towards the young girl standing beside her. She looked smart in her maroon coat. ‘Why is she doing this? She looks intelligent. Might be to earn some pocket money. What will Esha be when she grows up?’

“I need 5 packets of Amul Cheese slices. Don’t you have any?” Nirmala asked.

“It’s sold out, ma’am. We’ll get a fresh supply tomorrow afternoon.”

“I can’t come tomorrow. I need it now.”

“Did you check the nearby shops?”

“Nobody has it. I need it. It’s urgent.”

“Why don’t you try Britannia? It tastes the same.”

“No. Esha will have only Amul. Britannia has this slight yellow tinge but Amul is milk white, and she likes it like that.”

“Kids are so particular now days.” The young girl gave a polite smile and walked away.

Nirmala paid her bill and left the store. As she walked towards home, she kept ticking off the items in her mental checklist.

‘Pavithra will drop and pick up Esha from school.’ Check.

‘Paying the crèche fees.’ Check.

‘Fixing cook.’ Check.

‘Asking maid to pack all tiffins.’ Check.

‘Make list of Esha’s usual medicines and dosage.’ Check.

‘Vegetable shopping.’ Check.

‘Grocery shopping.’ Check. ‘Oh no, I didn’t get the cheese slices. Maybe, I should have just taken Britannia. Esha can no longer have all her wishes fulfilled. She will have to settle for the second best – the second best to her mother. ’

Nirmala could feel her grief in her throat. It was a lump she couldn’t swallow. It was a scream waiting to explode. She sat down on the pavement, unable to move, with tears washing down her cheeks. She had wanted to be brave for Esha, but she could no longer be brave because of Esha. She can delay no further. Her chemotherapy sessions begin tomorrow.

“Ma’am,” Nirmala looked up. The young girl from the supermarket stood before her. “I had kept one packet of Amul Cheese slices to take home. You seemed so much in need of it. You can have it, if it is urgent.” The girl’s wonder at Nirmala’s tears seemed evident. Nirmala took the packet from the girl, paid her and thanked her.

She continued her walk back home. The single packet had reminded her to take it one day at a time. She might be back home, in time, to buy the next one.

©ArchanaSarat2015

Limericks II

I couldn't stop myself from penning some more limericks. They are so much fun to do. Here are two more:

There was a young lady called Rose,
who had a horrendously huge nose.
When she knew she couldn't chop it,
she decided to paint and hide it,
before she sat for the photo pose.


A flea and a fly accidentally fell in a soup,
and swam around for sometime, in a loop.
"Let us flee," said the fly.
Said the flea, "let us fly,"
but their wings fell down in a soupy droop.



Image Source: Google

B: Baldy

Baldy

“I might even forgive you if you have an affair, but I’ll never forgive you if you shave off your hair.” Christine rolled her eyes at Robert and stared at him.

“Hey, c’mon, I’m allergic to hair colour and I don’t want to go around with a white bush on my head.” Robert tousled his hair.

“I don’t mind and why should you be bothered if others mind?” Robert sat down with his head in his palms. He knew it was futile to argue with her. She had always had this spite against baldness.

“Why are you scared of bald people?” He asked.

“I’m not. It’s not fear. It’s like cockroaches. I just find them nasty.”

“What will you do if the baby is bald?”

“How can you say such a thing? Of course, she won’t be bald.”

“But many babies are born bald.”

“Not mine. I was born with a head full of hair and so will she be.”

“Let’s see,” Robert said.

Three months had rolled by since they had that conversation. Now, as he stood outside the delivery room, listening to Christine’s screams, he wondered on how they could argue about something so futile. ‘Two lives were at stake and she was just concerned about the baby’s hair,’ he thought. ‘Women!’ Christine shrieked again and Robert felt faint. He sat down to calm his pulsing heart. Suddenly, he heard a baby’s cry, the cry of victory. He kneeled down to pray right there, that very second with tears streaming down from his eyes.

After a dozen minutes, the doctor ushered him inside to meet Christine. She had a tired glow of achievement. The baby was dozing in her arms.

“Did I scare you?” Christine asked.

“Terribly.”

“But we’ve done it. See our baby.”

“Christine, she’s bald.”

Christine rolled her eyes and stared at him. “How can you say such a thing? Bald babies are the most beautiful of all. Don’t you know that?”

©ArchanaSarat2015

NaPoWriMo 2015: Limericks

Limericks are these cute, sweet, funny, musical, 5-line poems. I tried a few for this NaPoWriMo. Here are two:

There was a young man named Kite,
over whom many women did fight.
Little did they know,
that their favoured beau
turned into a vampire at night.

(I hope that brought a smile to your lips. Here's another...)

There was this postman from Dale,
who pocketed money that came in the mail.
He couldn't keep it up for long.
After all, it was so wrong,
and he finally found himself in jail.

©ArchanaSarat2015



THIS IS NOT WRITTEN BY ME. SOURCE: GOOGLE