The sacred tree

“The great sage sat in penance of the most severe kind for a great many years. He did not break it even through torrents of rain, the harshest of heat or the most freezing cold. Pleased by his persistence, God appeared before him.

‘I am pleased with your penance. Ask for any three wishes and they will be granted.’

‘Oh Lord! I am forever humbled that you chose to appear before a lowly being like me. I cannot thank you enough. I do not seek three wishes. I only need one.’ he submitted meekly.

‘Ask so it may be granted.’

‘I wish to be immortal. But I have no desire to be a human anymore. I wish to be in a place close to you, always within your sight.’

‘So be it’ He granted.

That’s the tale of this tree. They say this is at least 500 years old – as old as the temple. Everyone coming here to worship the Lord also worships the tree. It is supposed to calm the mind and slowly encourage detaching from earthly worries to seek the Lord.” finished the guide.

“How fascinating!” I replied, turning to worship the tree.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox.

This week’s prompt: Prose Challenge – Tell us a story about “three wishes” in 200 words

PS: This story is entirely fictional.


When you stumble

“How could they have been so mean?”

“Good and bad do exist you know. Life can’t be all good. Sometimes you need to stumble on the bad. Someone, surely wise, has said ‘When you stumble, make it part of the dance’. And you dance! Have you ever learned to dance without an initial stumble? Take this experience as that first stumble.”

Microfiction in response to MicroMondays hosted by Varad.

This week’s prompt: “Good and Bad do exist.”

Word count: 61

Find other entries here.


A job for an artist

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“It was a beautiful day – almost perfect in its serenity. It demanded to be remembered, memorized. I set down my easel on the bank of the river, near the bend, at sunset. Glorious orange hues bounced and reflected off innumerable surfaces.

I never realized that one of those surfaces was the knife; never knew I had been present at the time of the murder. I realized it only the next day while watching the news.”

“Oh! What did you do then?”

“I went to the police station immediately. They now say it takes an artist’s observations to catch criminals!”

Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.


Love at first sight


“Have been a tourist for most of my life. Didn’t have a place I felt at home. Never knew how to blend in with the people…. Always restless, I just wandered from place to place. Drinking in the sights, greeting strangers. Just floating around.”

“You make it seem like it is a bad thing!”

“It isn’t… until you start feeling lonely… When you tire of the weightlessness and yearn for gravity; for something to pull you, for something to hold on to…”

“Did you find it then?”

“Yes… I found him.”

“Ooooh! A love story. Tell me more!”

“Was about 35 then. Waiting restlessly, as usual, at a red light; I looked around for amusement. And found him; waiting to cross the road. I was drawn by his simplicity, his ascetic clothes, demeanor, his calm face, his unhurried steps. I felt peaceful, for the first time in my life… Instinctively, I knew I had found my anchor. Without a moment’s hesitation, I walked right up to my future.”

Flash fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy.


Splinters of pain slashing away at life,
Shattering the meaning of my existence,
Away you walked, nonchalant.

Cracks deepen into chasms of grief,
That hope can never hope to bridge.

Poem in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. This week’s prompt:

Poetry Challenge – Write a five line poem that includes at least three of the following synonyms for “fragment”:

  • piece
  • splinter
  • snippet
  • particle
  • break
  • shatter
  • fracture
  • disintegrate
  • crack

What is your name?

He didn’t know why he liked her so. He only knew he was smitten by her right from the time she had moved into the flat. That day he had attempted small talk in his shy, faltering manner.

“Hi… I am Alex. I stay upstairs… I… If you need any help… I can you know.”

“That’s very generous. Thank you.”

“No problem. What is… your name?”

She only smiled and replied “See you around Mr. Alex”

In a few days, she could clearly see that the good man was a bit in love with her.

Finally, he wound up a bit of courage and asked her “I… I wish you would tell me your name you know. I…” and fell silent.

She smiled “You will know tomorrow.”

The next day as Alex passed her flat, he saw that the wall beside her door was painted pink; with a smiley face on it.

He turned with a grin of realization. “Rosy!”

Flash fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy.



I walked past the shadows in the park; decorated with the sprinkles of autumn. The same park that had seared itself into my memory and changed my life forever. A remnant of an old thrill passed through my spine, and I cursed it. I hated thrills now.

I hurried past it to the street, searching for the house that had dominated my dreams for 20 years.

I hesitated for just a moment before knocking and waited, for what?

She opened the door, catching her breath, holding it for support. I could see her rummage through her memories, peering into my face.

“Mom,” I said softly as a tear trickled down her wrinkled face.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. Thank you, Sammi!

This week’s challenge.

Write a story in exactly 113 words that begins in the photo above.  Where you go from there is up to you.




Mystery Blogger Award!

My first award!!! I am absolutely stoked!! Thank you so much, Maddie, for the encouragement. It means a whole lot. Please do check Maddie’s blog. I can assure you it will be well worth your time. There is always a key takeaway that is relatable, beautifully crafted, succinct and effective. Thank you, Okoto Enigma, for creating this award and letting it spread its wings in the blogosphere.


  1. Put the award logo/image on your blog
  2. List the rules.
  3. Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  4. Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well
  5. Tell your readers 3 things about yourself
  6. You have to nominate 10 – 20 people
  7. Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog
  8. Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice; with one weird or funny question (specify)
  9. Share a link to your best post(s)


Intensely embarrassing to write about oneself – have no idea why.

Apart from the six things on my About page, here are three more.

  1. I am forgetful. The disease is so advanced that absent-minded professors consider themselves blessed. My answer to anything older than 2 weeks is mostly a stupid look…. There is an upside to this chronic condition though. I can relish a book, a park, a vacation that I have experienced earlier as if I am experiencing it for the very first time. Every single time, I am happy and the world is a wonderful place again.
  1. I dress up like a boring old grandmother. Hey no! I am not that old. And, I have an absolutely smashing sense of dressing that has helped people on countless occasions. But then, I am just too lazy to act on that sense myself.
  2. I am terrified of horror flicks! I must have watched only about 5 horror movies in my entire life and each one of them has haunted (pun intended) my nights for a whole month. I NEVER watch them nowadays.


Do you think you spend too much time on social media?

Nope! I hardly spend time on it actually.

Do you think people are born evil or become evil?

I believe in duality – there can be no good without evil for comparison. So evil is, well, a “necessary evil”, if only for us to recognize what is good. The extension of that belief is that no person is singularly evil; just as no person is singularly good (saints are exceptions).  As a result, I am inclined to believe that no person is born evil. I can’t get myself to think that God created a person purposely evil just for the fun of it. I also believe I am too insignificant to act as a judge and brand someone evil. No one knows what any other person has been through. Until we know the complete truth, there can be no judgment. So, in my naïve eyes, there are no evil people per say. Just very unfortunate ones, whom I try very hard not to judge.

What’s your favorite lyric?

Warning. This section is depressing. But beautiful, sublime and timeless.

These lyrics struck me from when I was very young and has stayed with me to date. It is a Hindi song by name “Main shayar badnam” from an old movie (1973) called “Namak Haram”.

The setting: A poet sings from his deathbed. He calls himself a denounced poet; an artist who never made it, who never knew anything else but write; for whom drink was the only company. He has lived unspeakably poor, a drunkard, rejected by society as a misfit and is now dying young.

The specific lines: “Rasta Rok Rahi Hai; Thodi Jaan Hai Baaki; Jaane Tute Dil Mein; Kya Armaan Hai Baaki; Jaane Bhi De Ae Dil”

Meaning (extrapolated in my words): “I am dying. I should be happy that I am leaving this miserable, failure of a life. But then, I am not able to pass; something is blocking my way. Some desire, buried deep in my broken heart will just not let go. Who will ever know what that is….” Then he gently tells his heart “Let go heart. Let it pass.”

Why I like this: I cried the first time I listened to this. An artist who has poured his soul into his work leaves the world penniless, lonely, broken in soul, without anyone even knowing about his existence…. Despite all this, he acknowledges that he is still not ready. Something holds him back. Perhaps he still wants to change something? But then, what? Altogether too sad….

Do you believe in second chances?

Absolutely! It’s only when you believe in second chances, that you can forgive – yourself and others; I think.

What lie do you tell yourself regularly?

I am not lazy; I am just tired!


Believe me, these are great blogs. I sincerely hope to get to know each one of you inspiring people. Of course, participation is entirely voluntary!


  1. What is the one thing that you want to change in yourself?
  2. As a child, what did you want to be when you were all grown up?
  3. Why do you love or hate rain?
  4. A book that everyone should read before they die (even people who hate books)
  5. How do you react to change?

Can’t wait to see your responses!



Young and wild

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Oh! Will you please let that poor bird alone?”

“One minute…”

“You have been telling that for 10 minutes now!”

“I would take just one minute if you would help with the photo. I can’t both hold the bird and take a photo at the same time!”

“Then don’t! Just let the bird go.”

“But mom!!! I caught him – myself, with my bare hands.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of, you idiot!”

“How would you know? Never seen you around animals.”

“Well, what do you consider yourself young man? God knows I have enough wild on my hands.”

Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

The lad Ryan

This week’s photo prompt is provided by BarbCT/Gallimaufry. Thank you BarbCT!

Ryan brought the barge to a slow drift as the ferry neared, carefully keeping out of its way; he lifted his hat and bowed his head in deference. The captain of the ferry nodded as he sped past, an arrogant smile adorning his proud face.

Later that night, the captain walked up to Ryan, who was soothing his soul with some cold beers in the local bar.

“Ryan my lad… A fine day. Wasn’t it?”

Met with silence, he continued. “Well, for some, it certainly was.”

“Oh shut it, Peter!” Ryan roared. “So I lost. And had to make an absolute ass of myself acting like you were my lord and master in front of all those tourists… Man, there were pretty girls around.”

Ryan glowed, his face a pulsing beacon of red.

“Oh yes, there were a few,” said Peter obviously enjoying Ryan’s misery as much as the beer he was drinking.

“I say! If you are so great, can you do this?” replied Peter hotly.


Some lads just don’t seem to learn.

Flash fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you, PJ!



Dangerous thing

My mouth salivated, my senses tingled. It consumed me as I consumed it.

“How is it?” she asked.

“OK” I replied, careful not to let her know.

Dangerous thing, making the wife feel in control.

Microfiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. Thank you, Sammi. This week’s challenge

Prose Challenge – Write a story in 35 words, inspired by the theme of taste, without actually including the word “taste” in it.