Babying Around

 

Babying Around

Oh! If I were to be born again
To feel again the newness
Of being a brand new human

Cradle cap that never heals
Slippery skin that peels and peels
Changing color like a chameleon

Making bitter-sweet faces
Secretly smiling for no reason
And crying loud for every little

Looking around wide-eyed
In huge awe and wonder
At bright undefined hues

Amazed at all odd shapes
Jerking alert at rattle sounds
And at human voices

Sleeping the whole day
Waking the whole night
And keeping others awake

Lie on my back full day
Waiting to be picked up
And taken around

Convey hunger in loudest shrills
Making people run around
My family at my beck and call

Let everyone try to please me
While I amuse everyone around
By sucking my little foot thumb

Try to roll-over on my own
Fall from the bed crying
And get my mommy crying

Skin-to-skin with mommy
Looking at her angelic face
As she feeds me calmly

Cradling secure in dad’s arms
As and when he’s around
Till I grow too old for all this.

~Alka~

~~~ ~~~~

. Now I am too old for all this babying around and fancying doing cute stuff.

But we are still like a brand new baby on the day we are born, aren’t we?
And for me, that’s today…my birthday

Also a great day to be back to my blog…with my new baby poem

In the Name of Brunette Lady

In the Name of Brunette Lady

Matters not if you are plain Dark and wild
Or super soft Milky, fit for a child
Or else a Crunchie, chock-full of almonds
Or layered in peanuts, hazelnuts and raisins
Or a smooth Carmello with caramel flowing inside
Or adventurous Turkish Delight with its exotic flights
Or a Brownie, or a Mud Cake, or a cup of Hot Chocolate
In all hues and forms, you are sinfully awesome.
I cannot resist your passing temptations
As you melt in my mouth, to alter my moods
As you raise my body’s dopamine and serotonin
Leaving me better; healthier and happier!

© 2016 Alka Girdhar. All Rights Reserved

~~~ ~~~

Today, the 7th Of July, is World Chocolate Day. Did you eat your chocolate today?

*Serotonin and dopamine are mood-boosting chemicals found in chocolate, particularly Dark Chocolate.

Forbidden

A Photo a Week

Ode To Pingbacks

Ode To Pingbacks

You sense their presence
Not when they are there
But when they are not.

When they refuse to work
When they go on strike
Like some bunch of union workers
Usually overlooked and small
Taken for granted by big shots
Seemingly unimportant
Till they decide to hold down
A smoothly running system
And bring it to a sudden halt

But unlike overworked underpaid workhorses
They sulk not, not even complain
Or file their written protest summon
Or wait for ages for some fair windfall

Pingbacks vanish without a warning or a ping
And come back on their own, not when we call

*****

 

Playful Pingbacks

How often does it happen, that
With all our champion ideas galore
A writer’s block grips us
And words just refuse to pour!

It also happens that, when
Through our heart’s hems and seams
Creativity overflows and brims
But that’s when playful pingbacks cheat

No wonder then that
Our masterpieces die un’discovered’
For they are not even born.

Hey! Do you think my logic is wrong?

 

I wrote these two when pingbacks were not working. But I got busy and I could post only now.
.

Orbs of Light – Sun & Moon

Borrowed Glory

Shining in my glory
You charm the lovesick couples?
Thus spoke sun to moon

*

Hopegivers

As big star goes down
Little bro moon shows its face
Keeping our hopes alive

(sunset from my backyard and moon coming up from the front)

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

~~~ ~~~

These are my two haiku written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge 93
The two words provided were: Sun & Moon

Today I attempted haiku poems after a long time. I’m not very good at it, I thought.
But then what am I good at? I wondered. I wrote. I let it be…

Modern Love Story (a short story)

A Modern Love Story

She liked him for all right reasons. Who wouldn’t want to marry this charismatic son of a steel magnate. But how to know him?  That was the problem.

When a mysterious woman miraculously invited her to one of his parties, she quickly availed it.

Looking her best was the next challenge. Her exquisite satin red gown came from a designer thrift-shop. She borrowed a pseudo-Chanel clutch from her friend and diamante stilettos from her newly wedded cousin.

All went well. Being a good dancer she impressed the rich hunk, who was anyway dandy very easy to impress. But the vibrant party was in full swing when she got too carried away. Due to her fascination for all things expensive, she couldn’t resist fine wine that was offered to one and all for free. She overdid it, and that did the job. She forgot the invitation lady’s warning; that she must get back before midnight or else her party-wear will change into her everyday apparel.

Now. Two minutes to go before midnight, before her gown turns into ripped jeans and a tee, and her heels become flip-flops… while her pseudo-Chanel purse hangs like a canvas school bag that she was wearing while still at her home, before the party.

How can she go back home so quickly? She can’t. Intoxicated that she is, she’ll have to take a bus back home next morning.

Cinderella had better sense than this gal from a modern fairy-tale.

~~~

First written for: FFfAW  a weekly story challenge.

Wicked Witch Rituals

If some bad buddy hurts me…
What do I do?  No, I don’t weep

I immerse their head in water
And enjoy their cool dip dip dip

I put them in a fruit juicer
And squeeze them till they drip

I grind them into fine flour
And knead, thump and beat

I turn them into a long stick
And break it into little twigs

I write their name on a paper
And cut it up into tiny bits

I crumple them with my fist
And put them under my feet

I hardly ever do all this
As I mostly ‘forget and forgive’

I like to hold my head high
And quietly…quit quit quit!!

Copyright © 2015 Alka Girdhar

.
That was my evil poem in response to  The Daily Post’s writing prompt Wicked Witch

Actually if somebody hurts me, I do none of the above evil acts. I do forgive and forget to whatever extent I can. When I find it difficult to quit, I try to win their heart and change them although that’s very exhausting and comes with its own risks.

For the Cute and Homely Witches

My previous short story – The Lives of Witches & Bitches  – for this week’s flash fiction challenge Mondays Finish the Story was a bit sad. Now I’ve written this second fun story to humor myself and others.
In MFtS…we are given a picture and the beginning line, we create and finish the rest of it.

For the Cute and Homely Witches

“From her small balcony, the witch watched the world go by” –  This was the opening phrase of the drama that her 8th Grade was presenting, and enthusiastic Sheena had been diligently practicing her dialogues.

Her amazed and amused mom decided to pull her leg. “Are you playing the role of a witch? Ha ha…my girl who doesn’t even like to touch a broom.”

“Maa! Who says witches use a broom to clean their room. They sit on it and flyyyy away!.”

“Oh really? But you don’t even like cooking. Witches spend hours cooking in cauldrons”

“Mom, what do you mean? Indian women too love using cauldrons and the way they eagerly brew herbs and spices. So, are they…??”

Mom was amused by the reverse logic in what her daughter said but she cleverly smiled it away and replied, “Of course Indian women cast a magical spell on others with their healing food”

Sheena decided to ignore this one. She sat humming “Double double, toil and trouble…”

Mom laughed, “No toil for you my delicate baby, but you are my trouble. Very naughty trouble!”

This time, Sheena decided to win her heart. Walking up to her mom, she hugged her from behind and said “That I am!”

~~~~ ~~~

“Double, double toil and trouble.
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.”
…lines from Shakespeare’s Macbeth where the three witches chant together as they put stuff in a cauldron.

To pill or not to pill

Looking at the way people consider cooking as a chore, I have manufactured a short and simple solution, a pill to take care of our basic need of eating food at regular intervals.

Although there already are too many hunger-killing as well as hunger enhancing food items in the shops, they do not serve the purpose. These hunger-killing shakes, drinks or snack bars, curb our urge while providing some nutrition.

My pill is different. Take a pill in the morning, take one in the evening.  With pills, you do not stop feeling hungry, you don’t curb your hunger but it’s taken care of by a simple sweet tiny pill. As such, you all take so many pills each day – for this vitamin and that vitamin.  With my two pills inside your guts, no need for food or any extra pill.

But, having gone through some of the responses to the survey Red Pill, Blue Pill, I am disheartened. My hopes are dashed. My business that had started to take-off, is in doldrums.That’s because you people are not happy with the idea of a pill.

Animals were happier than you. I fed some cows on these pills and they seemed pleased that they don’t have to keep hanging around pastures anymore. Animals don’t even have to cook their food but they still preferred gulping a pill to eating grass. No need to munch the whole day. My pill-fed cows were still happy to donate us humans ample milk for cheap, and baby cows fed on pills felt they won’t have to feel deprived of their mom’s milk.  The race horses said, they were happy that they’ll be able to slog the whole day without wasting time on eating food.

Humans, it seems, are different.  Sensual men and women love their senses – their mouths drooling at the sight of colorful food, their taste buds getting excited upon tasting sweet, sour, spicy, salty food.

How many times a day do we have to eat?  We humans imagine that overnight we kept a fast and we celebrate breaking this fast with our breakfast.  We need so many food times – lunch time, dinner time and tea times. In fact our life revolves around these food times.  Buying of wide variety of food, proper storage of perishable food, refrigeration, disposal of rotten food. Then we fuss over buying elegant cookware and dinnerware, and spend time and money on equipment and gadgets to make our cooking easier.  Serving food on fancy tables so as to please our eyes.  After that we overeat, put on weight and then feel guilty of not exercising enough.

We love our food. But this is the food given to us by animals and birds – their eggs, their milk, and they themselves sacrifice their life for us. Plants too give their full life or else their body parts to us, so that we can hog on them and live a healthy life.

My creation – this pill – will not only save these plants and animals but also help humans, esp. the fairer sex (I dare not say weaker sex) from slogging. I can reduce their kitchen workload; so they don’t have to keep pleasing their families.

So guys, please do re-consider your response to this prompt.  It can help the animal kingdom as well as human race.

That said, honestly speaking, I myself love wide variety of sumptuous food recipes cooked by my wife. I would never like to stop eating them.  Although I want to stop being a glutton, I hunt for best eateries around town. Don’t tell anyone but I’m not sure even after marketing these pills I may find myself unable to resist food. More than that I won’t be happy if my growing kids are deprived of micro-nutrients and calories they can get only from fresh food.  No pills for them.  My aging parents may not be able to tolerate a pill.

Oh well!  Is that another failed experiment?  Hope not. Hope one day my science finds some alternative solution. Not pills. Not too much food obsession the whole day. Something in between, and better than hunger-reducing snacks and shakes.

To Be As Clean As Can Be

The Daily Post’s writing prompt Sweeping Motions has asked us:
‘What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.’

~~~~

My computer table is messy. No No, my room is messier. No No, it’s my table….

Both are slightly messy. Both are clean.  But there’s a reason to why they are like that?  I mean, c’mon, what else do you expect?  Unlike India, here in Australia we’ve to do most of the work by ourselves. Moreover, with more than half of my family of three enjoying their trips, currently I’m doing all the work by myself.  It’s a different issue that less family members also means less work.

In general, if there is a long list of work to be done all the time – say cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing etc. etc – what will happen?  We’ll have to prioritize, innit?  We’ll do only that which is absolutely necessary.

Cooking is vital, followed by cleaning of the kitchen. Hygiene in kitchen is more important than that of the rest of the house. Cleaning of toilets is also necessary but this week, with most of my family away, I’m using  only one toilet. When the sole person using the bathroom and toilet is a woman, it doesn’t get much dirty anyway.

Ok.  Next task?  We need clothes every day.  At the most I can forego the ironing of each and every washed piece, but washing of clothes is still a necessary chore to be done every alternate day.

Only after these vital chores are over, comes a need for room cleaning and yard cleaning. Bedroom cleaning involves carpet cleaning every other day. Currently I do not see a dire need for it, so the floor looks fine. The bedroom wardrobe always seems to have a room for cleaning. Also exists the task of changing of bedsheets but not every single day as I use my bed only for sleeping, not for watching TV or casual sitting around.  Hence sometimes, when I’m in a hurry, I avoid making my bed. But it’s Okkkk!!!

My computer table is currently within my bedroom. Other than the laptop and another big screen computer, right now it has some scattered pens, random visiting cards, letters and envelopes, some coasters, phones being charged. Is that a mess?  Thanks to my deteriorating eye-sight, I can’t clearly spot the dust even if it is there. A dressing table, that sits next to the computer table, has a drawer full of charging wires, ear-phones, head phones, diaries and writing stuff but it hardly has any makeup or beauty items that it ‘s supposed to have. Any fines for that?

But Hey Word Press!! Why am I telling you all this? And why are you asking?

Other than busy schedules, the way we all are addicted to blogging as well as to the rest of the online media, you can’t expect us to be cleaner than we are. There’s so much information overload online that I spend more time reading about ‘How to use lemon or vinegar to clean the house’, rather than on actual cleaning.  There’s no dearth of sites that inform about ‘How olive oil can help clean leather items’, or ‘How to use baking soda to clean your face as well as your house’. Organic cleaning is the best, they say. But just reading about all this information is not going to automate the cleaning of our homes.

To conclude it all as a poem….

 The amount of time we spend online
 Messy rooms and tables are not a crime.
 Please do not track our rooms
 Go home and clean your own room.
(no offense meant)

Arranged Marriage: Third time’s the Charm

the first one came
head held sideways
looked away from her
and said
‘You are too good for me’

the second one came
head held high
looked down at her
and said
‘I’m too good for you’

the third one came
held her hand
looked into her eyes
and said
“I like you just the way you are
You’re the one I was looking for
It seems you were meant for me
And I was meant for you
You are just right for me
I am just right for you”

~~~

The acceptance and rejection process in my above poem applies not only to the much maligned arranged marriages but also to all sorts of deliberate match-making, including online dating sites, where people calculate many different criteria before they decide to see that person.

The fact is, whether it is a love marriage or arranged, every match-making is mostly about the other person unconsciously falling fit into your set criteria of looks, age, race/nationality, religion, education/degrees, mannerisms etc. It may seem that it was a sudden clicking that developed into love but the clever mind and heart calculates.

In any case, it’s better to calculate first than to complain later.

~~~ ~~~

For The Daily Post’s writing prompt History of Language:
Third time’s the charm – Write a piece of fiction describing the incident that gave rise to the phrase, “third time’s the charm.”