Upbringing

Ofcourse, you can….After all it’s a public place. Right?” Raising her eyebrows she said.
“No, I didn’t mean that.” Taking a deep breath he continued,” I saw you from there.” H3 pointed towards door. ” and I -I -ammm..”
“You what? Haan, you what?”
Licking his lips and swallowing with difficulty he replied ” You looked like my…”
” Actually, you didn’t want to miss the opportunity. The problem with guys today is that, they think a lonely girl who is sitting alone in the cafe, holding a phone or is working person, is available to all.” She babbled in one breath,.her face red, eyes glowing.
He handed her a glass of chilled water and slowly sat down,”Sorry. First for sitting down without permission secondly, I didn’t know You were in so much agony.” Gasping for air, he placed his hand on her head, his eyes softened, ” You looked like my sister who is may be couple of years younger to you and faces similar situations like you described.” He paused and looked around the again resting his gaze on a table near the window, said, “See there.those guys have exact intention which you described.”
She slowly turned her gaze over his shoulder, towards the table he was directing and saw two guys sitting with mobile back camera in her direction. Puzzled she looked at him, her brows drawn in closer.
” They take the pics of lonely girls who come here and God knows what they do but I’ve been told to look for a pir of boys who are regular here.”
” So, you are a cop or some sort of social worker then.” She said.
” No, I just wanted to save the repo of the cafe and you. As you are the Only girl present right now.” He signalled some one with his two right hand fingers and before she could ask anything else, “I am the humble owner of this little cafe, madam.” He stood up and walked away with an air of Superiorty towards the group holding the two guys and she shut her mouth in a snap.
Moms should raise their boys like this, she thought to herself.

The Mystery Box

Rubbing her eyes she pushed her blanket aside, flung her legs off the bed and turned towards the Teddy still sleeping on her pillow. Got down and yawning she tucked the Teddy under her arms then dragged her little feet out of the room.

She reached for the knob on the entrance door. At the foot of the door laid a box wrapped in red satin and tied with a delicate white lace. She looked around for the person who delivered it but there was no sign of anyone. Underneath the box there was a familiar envelope. A letter from a mystery person. She picked up the letter and hugged the box.

Running through the corridor she came out in the backyard. There in a corner, was a small wooden doll house big enough to accommodate a little girl. All painted and decorated in dreamy stuff. She put down the box on a small table by the window of the hall and opened the letter. It read “Last clue”. The girl started to tug at the wrapping. In a few seconds all the decorations were lying on the floor of doll house and the girl was now opening the box. In a couple of minutes she was holding a photograph of a beautiful young woman holding a baby. She ran to the decorative almirah in the doll’s bedroom and opened it. She collected all the letters and placed them daywise. The message read, “Baby, I love you. I’m always with you no matter what. When you miss me, have a look at our picture.”

With tears in her eyes she went back to her father who was sitting quietly on the dinning table, lost in his own thoughts. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him on the forehead.”You kept promise to both of us, Mom and me.” Looking at her moistened eyes and the photo in her hands he understood that her questioned about her mom has been answered without breaking the promise made to his wife on her death bed.

What do you see?

I see warmth. Joy. Light and happiness. I can feel possitive vibes. Coziness of a country home, the bonding of the family.

Love of members for each other. The relations well kept and trust preserved. All thing good I can see in this picture.

I can go on writing about it but at a point I have to stop, so, why not now without destroying the feeling with lots of words, which t a point do loose their meaning and are mere blabber.

Keep it alive.

How does coincidence works?

Has anyone ever figured out how the coincidences work? Ever?

I mean many times I’ve witnessed coincidental events but instead of understanding the occurrence I was awestrucked. I would like to quote today’s incident. My son was watching YouTube when all of a sudden he selected to play a video, which had the title’ has a ghost appeared in your dreams, ever?’

At the same time, while going through my emails, title of an email caught my attention. It read, ‘Do ghosts try to communicate through dreams?’ Some of you may question, ‘so what’s the big deal? It does happens. ‘ But it is some sort of indication or is it? Because few days ago I had witnessed two people sitting on a chair placed in my bedroom. Though it was during night, yet I swear, it was not a dream. My eyes were open and I tried to adjust my vision but was not successful. And I struggled to shout but my voice was strangled l, at least I felt that way. Then atlast a small but deep sound escaped my throat. Then everything was back to normalcy.

Then yesterday when my daughter was watching YouTube, same video had appeared on her playlist and when she had tried to watch, it didn’t play. But today it did and created a coincidence with my email.

So, I can say that this topic is haunting me from last four days. But why? That is the point to ponder.

But with this another question is left unanswered, actually, the main question. Do ghosts aka spirits try to talk to us through dreams? And for doing so do they need to be related to us in one or the other way?

Irony of a religion.

Allah-hoo-Akbar, literally means only Allah is great. But what kind of greatness is this, which on being chanted radiates only hatred and scatters blood. In name of greatness only destruction is done. The so called peacefull community, with one hand murders others and with other they disrespect mothers, sisters and even their own wives.

Which religion preaches to clear off the earth of its population on not following its teachings and not accepting it’s God? Strange!

Who were they?

Suddenly she opened her eyes. Everything was as normal as it could be. In the faded beam of light coming from the window, where she had moved the curtains a bit, she saw someone covered in mud sitting on the chair placed opposite her bed.

She was shocked and tried to settle her vision but could not make out. The person was just staring strangely. She tried to shout but to her dismay, her voice was choked. Nothing came out.

She even tried to get up but her folded hands refused to open up. How hard she may try, but her body didn’t respond the way she wanted.

To her surprise, the person on the chair vanished and a small boy of Ten or Twelve, sat in his place with same grimace. At this moment a muffled but heavy sound escaped her throat.

Her husband pulled her into his arms and comforted her. That night she could not sleep again. There was only one thought in her mind, could it be true, that the spirits do dwell along with alive people and make their appearences sometimes to make their presence known. Or of it true, that an empty chair is not actually empty, in the night or spirits really do look at you while you are asleep and sometimes peep into your dreams?

Finally, I made upto it.

I have to thank all of you a lot and again thank you a lot. Why? Because with your love and support I have made to this stage.

I have got 500 friends and well wishers today. All of them who believed in me, supported me, and above all guided me.

When in 2016, I started, I wrote for venting, after that it became a support system to fight my inner devils, then sometime later it became ranting and now I am trying to live my dream of being a writer, blogger and learner of the skill through it. In all the stages, your love and wishes have supported me along the journey.

Hope you continue to be around and support me to grow.

My writing day so far

My all writing days have the same fate! Each day is pretty much the same. I have not written much.

As, I have already informed you all, long ago that I have been trying to write a memoir about my father. But what should I say about my pace. I am not an inch ahead from the point, I wrote last, a couple of months ago.

My emotions take over me and then comes a halt. Everytime, I beat myself to sit down and write, can’t write more than few words. How on earth, am I supposed to make any progress? Only thinking to complete my book can’t make me complete it, right? I understand to actually glue myself down to the seat of my chair and keep my fingers playing the the soothing music of tip-tap over the keyboard.

I don’t see it happening any of the day I decide to write. May be, I should switch to phone from laptop. But that is more hectic. There are many reasons behind that, too.

Laundry as unsorted thoughts

I hate folding laundry. Actually, I must say, I just can’t bring up myself to do this tedious job. My biggest procrastination after writing is folding the washed laundry.

It happens many times that I go to fold it and then giving it a look my mind to me says,’ Nah! Some other time. Any other day. You have lot more things to do right now.’ And then I cross pass the laundry. Then days turn into weeks and weeks into a month.

My laundry is then cleared in instalments…I mean, my hubby folds and keeps his clothes, though being a busy bee and completely submerged into his work, he does takes out time . Then my kids do their part and in last my daughter helps me out with mine.

I don’t know why but I just can’t do it. Sorting out laundry feels like sorting out my thoughts and I just hate sorting out my thoughts. May be that’s why My laundry keeps on mounting day by day just like my thoughts pile up in my head and sometimes try to explode and when I try to write, all mixed up and confused emotions come out. Which takes long to organise.