no shades of grey

Akshay was a simple man with simple needs, content with his farm and family. One day, he was farming as usual, when he found a stone buried deep in the soil.  The stone looked like any other rock but its shell was charred as though someone had passed it through a furnace. But what caught his eyes was a giant fossil of what looked like a bug. Only this didn’t look like an ordinary bug. He took the stone to the local headmaster (the only learned person in the village) who was astonished to look at it. The headmaster, a young lad, who was pursuing his Ph.D on Extra Terrestrial life could feel his pulse racing. This piece of fossilised rock might lead him to the brink of a new discovery.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

It all began with a wrong number. He was persistent…she was evasive. Finally on New Year, she relented and since the last 9 months they have been in touch though SMS. And now in just few days, she will be meeting him for the first time. They feel like they have known each other forever. Both are counting days with bated breath and heightened anticipation.

Where will this meeting lead them to?

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

We were given an assignment to write a summary of books on different genres in the fiction and non fiction categories. The brief was that the gist should be long enough to give the reader an idea of what the book held and short enough to arouse interest. Mentioned below are the genres, the summaries follow this post:

Fiction – Romance, Mystery, Sci-fi, Thriller, Politics, Religion, Classics, Historical, Action, Humour

Non-fiction – Biography, Travel, Religion, Political, History, Social Issues, Business, Arts, Science, True Crime, Sports, Poetry

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

Tiny, nestling in my palm lay a dainty flower. A flower that till sometime back had proudly been on a stem along with many like her. Dancing in the breeze, smiling at the sun, she was proof that all was well with the world.

The flower consisted of 2 main parts – the corolla and the stem. The corolla, is similar to the human torso. This one had 13 yellow petals each having self coloured stripes on it. You may assume that they would all be alike, but you are mistaken. Each petal has its own unique identity.

Some with brown beauty spots, some with black birth marks yet others half torn. In the centre was embedded a cluster of pollens that the Casanova bees would lay their feet, antennae and wings on and disburse in far off places thus transporting this flower to new locales. No wonder mommy said “beware of the playboys.”

Holding this entire corolla is the stem akin to the human trunk. Pale green in colour, it broadens on the top as it supports the petals. The green here is very light almost creamish.

Holding it between my thumb and middle finger, I turn the flower round and round. But I am sure, it would rather have been on the stem flirting with the breeze and preening at the bees.

(An assignment of Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

Activity: write a story/poem using the words highlighted in bold:

I was speeding on the highway. Had to reach the port on time lest the ship sailed without me. Shouldn’t have ordered sizzlers for lunch. It always takes me time to work my way through all that crackle and steam. But mixed chicken grill is my weakness. The slightly sauteed sausages, barbequed chicken and salami accompanies by flavoured rice, creamy corn and mashed potato is just too delicious to refuse…almost begging me to order it. Watch your calories babe…those love handles will soon turn into a love seat. Oh! damn. Right now just watch the road. No fun in having a swanky car and ending up having an accident.

Somehow I reach the port. Huffing, puffing and panting, I clear through the formalities ans set my foot on the ship. The ship that will sail through for a week and take me away from this hustle bustle. Mesmerised, I move to the deck and watch the waters awaiting the movement of this mammoth machine. I switch my mobile phone off. It’s going to be only ‘me’ and ‘my time’. Funny how relaxing this simple act felt. As though someone has cut the umbilical cord binding me to the real world.

(An assignment of Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

Imagining an Xmas gift that is not tangible:

I am a dreamer. An idealist. I live perpetually in Utopia. When I get fed up of this chaotic, materialistic world, I escape to that corner in my mind where I have a perfect idyllic world.

A world that is based on values and integrity. Where morals are held high. Idioms like ‘dog eat dog world’, ‘rat race’ are replaced with ‘do unto others as you would have others do unto you’ and ‘love thy neighbour’. Where ‘crab mentality’ is replaced with ‘extending a helping hand’, we we don’t ‘run like headless chicken’ and face problems with our head held high than ‘burying the head in the sand like an ostrich’. After all what harm have these animals and birds caused us that we misuse them so negatively.

My ideal world will have people smiling, going about their lives meaningfully. Everyone will have equal opportunities, equal wealth and access to nature. There will be no health issues, no discrimination based on caste, creed, sex, colour, language, nationalities. Nations would have no borders. There would be greenery all around, flora and fauna abundant with the ordinary and exotic. A world where the dagger is used to cut plants and not be stabbed in the back with. People would lead healthy lives till about 60years and pass away peacefully in their sleep than lie in vegetative states till ripe.

I am a dreamer. I am an idealist. All I ask Santa are these words by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore to come true, “where the mind is without fear and the head held high, into that heaven of freedom, Oh! Lord, let my country awaken.”

(An assignment of Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)