How can my muse be apart from me? It is all that I’d like to be. It could also be the exact antithesis of that, I so love to whip. But the relativity is unmistakable. I may not have the courage to admit it’s me. Something or someone that once walked on the territory of … Continue reading Demons
Color, Chroma, Pigment, Hue, Stain and Tinge ….. by Bladud Fleas
a flash-fiction story
Snow White wished she hadn’t eaten the pink mushrooms. Even when you’re lost in the Green Forest and famished, circumspection is always advisable. Now she found herself in an extraordinarily quaint house, in its bed chamber to be exact, contemplating a row of seven small single beds. Each was dressed with an intensely cheerful counterpane, and on each headboard a different name had been painted: Color, Chroma, Pigment, Hue, Stain, Tinge and Shade. She had stumbled upon, and into, the home of the seven psychedelic dwarfs.
She felt a trifle faint then with the intensity of it and laid herself down across all of the little beds, width-wise, making sure her head was in Shade. Of course, this caused her feet to be in Color, which could have been worse (she didn’t want to think about which part of her was in Stain). She shortly…
View original post 217 more words
English translation in Comments section….
फिर यादों की हवा चली है
कैसी फिर यह आग लगी है
दिल में होली जल रही है ।१।
नशा है कैसा खुली ज़ुल्फ़ का
हुई है मुद्दत पर जाने क्यों
सांसों में भंग सी घुल रही है ।२।
बैठे हो तुम सामने मेरे
समंदर किनारे अल्हड़ शाम
गालों पे लाली मल रही है ।३।
किसने दी है थाप अमित
किसकी पायल की मधुर तान
ज़ज्बातों को यूँ छल रही है।४।
In response to: Reena’s Exploration Challenge # 79
I remember the moment when you came after that, life was never the same strategic thinking, masterful execution you were a master at your game. you painted the future with adept hands I wished to see myself in the frame you catapulted me to the top with ease I wondered if it … Continue reading Where am I?
Oh no, not another wedding! I wail silently, as I pull out an ostentatious box from the mailbox. It almost broke the mailbox. I do not enjoy loud music and dancing and we have already spent a lot on gifts this season. The name of the sender does not inspire positivity. It is not a … Continue reading Invitation cards
Lakshmi ————– by Len
Lakshmi sat beside the social worker in the central court’s waiting room, while the gods of Canada’s justice system divined her fate. The social worker tapping away on her iPhone paid little attention to her eight year old charge. Lakshmi sat there, disconsolate, drowning in waves of sadness, her mother’s screams continuing to echo through her head. She wondered how it was possible, that her mother had died in the car crash while she had not received even a single scratch. Lakshmi’s future was now up in the air, under negotiation with the judge, a choice of foster care or auntie.
The social worker pocketed her iPhone as auntie accompanied by a lawyer entered the waiting room. Auntie embraced Lakshmi with a glowing smile, ” You will live…
View original post 952 more words