FISS ~ iv

Burnt out

It rolled on the ground gasping for breath seeing its entire life go by in a flash till the very end when it left a permanent mark on its slayer, the smoker.

FISS ~ iii

Red-handed

The old fellow trotted down to the bedroom and found his favourite boy straddled atop a different species, his wagging tail dropped.

Ficition-in-a-short-skirt ~ ii

Passion Fruit

It lay on her work desk, taut and red, waiting to succumb to a sweet death in her luscious mouth only to keep her away from the doctor another day.

Fiction-in-a-short-skirt

The Living Room

A silent TV, a creaseless sofa, an unread pile of books, a smiling idol of Ganesh, a white-haired woman and a man in a garlanded photoframe.

~ in an attempt to overcome the annoying block here’s the first in a series of microfiction.

Delicious colours of Christmas

The ennui called life

I could have done so many things, I could have realized so many dreams if weariness, an inconceivable, enormous weariness had not overpowered me for the last fifteen years or so, or even far longer. A weariness that kept me from working but also from resting, from enjoying life and being happy and relaxing, and also kept me from turning more towards others, as I’d have wished to…oh, if that ‘what’s the use?’  had not germinated in my soul…

~ From Fragments of a Journal by French-Romanian playwright and dramatist Eugene Ionesco

My first bundt!

After months of drooling over them in many food blogs, finally made a 3 cup bundt cake of banana and chocolate chip with nutella cream dancing on it wildly.

~ Dedicated to An, sweet and lovely just like her excellent blog, who generously gave me the bundt cake pan from her large collection of bakeware. Thank you!

Rumi spotting in ‘Rockstar’

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about
language, ideas, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.

Pop art meets Monday morning

~ End of Innocence by Romero Britto, a Brazilian Neo-pop artist. He combines influences from cubism with pop, to create a vibrant, iconic style that The New York Times describes, “exudes warmth, optimism and love”. Britto’s pop sensibility has since lent itself to many collaborations with such brands as Audi, Bentley, Disney, Technomarine, Evian and FIFA, for whom he created an official poster for the 2010 World Cup.

Dreams

Its head is perched on the window,
Waiting for me to let down guard,
Soon it will open the bolted door and run amok,
It will climb mountains, it will swim seas,
It will chase tigers, it will breathe under trees,
Doing all that it has learnt and felt,
But when the time is up, it will flutter back again
Like Cinderella, only barefoot,
Unseen, unfelt, unreal,
Into its cage for another day –
My soul trapped inside my body
That lives my dreams.