My first 100 words post. Here.

A 100 words

"Words like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within"

When he told me about 100words i was immediately intrigued. To write a post in 100 words or lesser, conveying the gamut of emotions that runs through one's mind. An attempt at disciplined creativity.

It excited me, as it seemed like a sort of introspection to myself. A way to look into me and get directly to the heart and soul of it. I do not know if i will be able to see through this or make sense in the process.

So here is the deal. We will write posts that do not exceed 100 words. As often as possible. About anything. Absolutely anything.

Yet another new journey begins here.

PS:- A Drabble is a story or piece of fiction that is exactly 100 words.

Through the looking glass

Listless eyes fixed aimlessly on the road. The dry hum of the AC blowing on my face. One long never ending road. The slow monotony of a highway drive. Many kilometres covered. Mindless music crooning in the background. Every mile seemed to me like the road was gobbling up human beings, villages and vehicles alike. The road swallowing the people and things that it passed by in seconds. The car swallowing the road as it moved ahead. The vicious cycle kept replaying before my eyes and suddenly brought a memory to the forefront . A memory that tore its way from that place , deep inside mind, where it was locked away for eternity. The loud screaming thoughts rudely shook my reprieve and replaced the stoic silence of my mind.

A few words spoken. She said something. I said something. It all became one huge mess. I kept thinking about it over and over again. It wasn't about right or wrong. It wasn't about me or her. It wasn't about the sorries that should have been said, but went unsaid. It wasn't about the million notes we wrote each other from when we were kids. It wasn't about the undying juvenile declarations of ever lasting "best friendness". It wasn't about the times we shared together. It wasn't about the time we grew up together, making stupid mistakes, laughing over them and growing up. It wasn't about all the times we cried on each other's shoulders. It wasn't about the late night escapades. It wasn't about the sneaking out. It wasn't about consoling each other after all the break ups. It wasn't about the bitching. It wasn't all the fancy notions of love that we shared with each other. It wasn't the long cups of coffees shared everyday and the long soul to soul conversations that came with it. It wasn't the porn movie we sneaked to watch as teenagers. It wasn't about the lame late night conversations and rides in the beach. It wasn't about all the fights at home and standing up for each other. It wasn't about being together, making mistakes together, learning from it together and being there for each other. It wasn't even about that fact that almost all my happy memories had her in it.I was only thinking about how us growing up has made everything so much more difficult. How us, who let nothing get in the way of us, are now driving a wedge between ourselves, slowly, gently and without letting each other know. The stupid way adults did it. The way we said we would never be when we grew up.


How all this suddenly seems lost is something i can't come to terms with. Why is it that we, who spoke about everything under the sun, didn't speak about this and put it behind us? Why is it that we, who think and know that we are always best friends have both decided to put that one incident at the back of our minds to never discuss it again? Why is it that i still look at you, smile at you with all the fondness in the world, and yet know that somewher inside, something hurts. Why is it that, i was thinking of writing this as a blog, when i should have just reached out for my phone and told u, "Lets talk about that day." It was after all just a few words that both of us said.

The thoughts in my head were deafening. I was suffocating. I reached out and lowered the glass in a ditch attempt to get rid of the way my thoughts were closing in on me. The cool breeze caressed my face, and soon i found myself forgetting myself in the sights and sounds around me.The gentle caress of the winds, the steady sound of the car cutting across, and the fleeting glimpses of people, villages, Peace and calm. The caress of the breeze, brought back memories, joy and the steady sound of the car cutting across the wind, brought a sense of peace, calm and understanding.This was the other side of the looking glass. All along i was looking through the glass. On the reverse. The reflected side. other side of the looking glass is not behind it. It is right in front of us. It is right there at the one place we never look.

All i had to do was to lower the glass and transcend into reality. All i had to do was look through the glass at myself.
All i had to do was let go of myself, so that I could find me again.

This time on the right side of the looking glass.





It was from the other side of the looking glass, that i reached out to my phone and called her.



PS: for the really, really uninitiated through the looking glass is a term that i flicked right off alice in wonderland. :-)

to new beginnings!!

To new beginings,

a new beginning,

a new life,





This is for the one soul who checks back every once in a while to see if i am still alive!

PS: decided against the old blog.. its going to be this :D except i am hoping to be back to blogging NOW..
yes i know thats 247th time i am saying that.. but i hope to mean it this time around

i am back!

hello to the both of you who read my blog so religiously!! even when there are no updates..!! [:)] if there's more do delurk and tell me!!

its the new year. well.. we are quite a bit into the new year!
but i suddenly realised how much i missed writing and how i was just giving myself excuses that i was busy.
Well here i am, making a conscious decision to write more and more often!! i am promising myself that i am going to be more regular.
I almost forgot.. one of the biggest inspirations for the same are of course 1$saint., i am also planning to blog from his blog as well. He's one of the both of you, who actually thinks i am good enough to write and also very politely invited me to blog in his group blogs! ! [:)] and also S, alec and a few others who were subtly persistent.!!

happy pongal folks as well as a very belated happy new year!

Don't laugh at me

His little girl came up to him and claimed that she wanted to be the best train driver the world has ever seen. Suddenly memories came flashing though his head.

Memories of him trying to reach the top most shelf where his amma had hid the bourborn biscuit dabba. His failure to do so irritated him and he had proclaimed to his mum that he would one day be the tallest man in the world, so that he could reach anything. His mum had laughed at him and asked him to run along.

Memories of him, telling his dad that he wanted to be a telephone operator as then, nobody could stop him from using the phone. His father had laughed at him too.

Memories of him wanting to be the richest man in the world, as he could then buy all that he ever wanted. Memories of the various uncles and aunties and the other friends who would purposely ask him what he wanted to be and then laugh at him when he said something.

Memories of him wanting to be a million things. But the one thing common to all of it was that he was always laughed at.

He remembered that as a kid he couldn't wait to grow up. He hated being a kid. He wanted to be taken seriously. He hated being dismissed as "a little kid"


Then it hit him. All those times that he wanted to be a million things, he only longed to be taken seriously. Somehow his little brain had concluded that the only way to be taken seriously was to become a grown up and Nobody would laugh at him then.

He was brought back to reality by his little daughter, tugging at his sleeve excitedly, so that she could catch his attention. She went around the room, chugging like a train, trying to show him, how she would drive her train.

He smiled. He ruffled his daughter's hair and told her that he was sure she would make the best "train driver" in the world. His daughter chugged out of the room,her childhood intact.

Tomorrow

The clock struck six. She woke up like in a dream. Her hand automatically went to her phone. She went through her daily routine like in a dream. She crammed into the crowded train like in a dream. She pushed her way out at the crowded station almost like in automation. At work, it was like she was almost not there. She no longer stopped to care about what she was doing. She just knew that at the end of the day, she had to get to the top. In the rat race called life she too was running. Running to win. Her life was now governed by train timings, boss's mood swings, the maid's timings, super market timings, so on and so forth

Till one day she woke up. She threw her alarm clock on the floor. The glass shattered to pieces.
She smiled. She smiled at the sound of broken glass. She smiled at the million pieces that she saw. She smiled while carefully jumping over the glass pieces. She smiled as she switched off her phone. She smiled as she shut out the distant sound of the train chugging. She smiled as she threw the newspaper aside. She smiled as she walked out.

Tomorrow she had to buy a new alarm clock. But that was another day. Today was her day. Nothing would come in her way today. She closed her eyes and took a whiff of the fresh air around her. She opened her eyes.

Finally she realised, that she was in a dream.

PS:- arbit posting. Felt like it. Just a whim.