Have seen it time and time again
Those who hurt us in some big way
And never feel sorry, come what may
Never realize and never acknowledge
But act as if theirs is always a superior way
They’re sure to hurt us more and more
In the same manner Continue reading
Agoraphobia
he thought
he should go out
he told himself
he must go out
the thought came
the thought went out
he stayed inside
he did not go out
©2016 Alka
I wrote this poem in 2016, now posting it for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt for #writephoto Inside-out
to be or not to be
to do or not to do
to say or not to say
to go or not to go
to smile or not to smile
to cry or not to cry
to enjoy or not to enjoy
to love or not to love
to hate or not to hate
to live or not to live
to be or not to be
such issues are tricky
often tricky as can be
rest all is easy
~~~ ~~~
In response to today’s one-word prompt by The Daily Prompt: Tricky
Pour some sugar on me
Let it sink deep
into raw and open pores
to seep into my inner cores
Let it gently melt
down my sinews and bones
to trickle into cellular holes
Let some sweet balm calm
the treacheries that pulsate
the heart, memories that ache
Let it gulp all the bitterness
that’s gnawing my goodness
now soften the stiffened starch
Come! Caramalize my soul
make a pudding of me
Let me consume the sweeter me.
Pour some sugar on me
© 2015 Alka Girdhar, All Rights Reserved
~~~
In response to the Daily Prompt: Pour Some Sugar on Me
What is your favorite sweet thing to eat?
Too many sweet recipes in my mind. That later. For now, this poem seemed to be an easy response.
‘Me’ in any of my works is not necessarily me. It’s anyone of us.
Tabby – The Tyre Man
Tabby liked his small town. He liked its people. Well not really. But the thing he hated the most was, that each day after school he was made to sit in his father’s tyre shop. To sell tyres.
Day after day Tabby sat in this shop seeing nothing but black round rings of rubber all around him. They drove him mad. Truck tyres that he found as swarthy as toad. Emaciated and lean cycle tyres that stood hugging the midget scooter tyres. Tyre parts. Tyre pictures. And a strange odour of tyres wafting all around.
He found the buyers as boring as the product he was made to sell with a smile. The clients like highway truck drivers and transport company owners, who spoke in a strange street language, drove him nuts.
When he finished high school, he said to his father, “I want to be a lawyer”
“But son…our small town simple men hardly ever fight, and couples here don’t even take divorce. Maybe we need more doctors. Or good teachers!”
Tabby didn’t fully agree with the first part. But he couldn’t stand the sight of blood, so his being a doctor was out of question.
“And teachers here are made to teach duds like me”, thought Tabby.
Nothing seemed to work, but still he was sure of one thing. That he didn’t want to spend his whole life selling tyres.
One fine evening, as his mind over-dwelt on this matter, he went to the river side. The quiet and the solitude seemed like a balm to his restless nerves. He took off his shoes to get the feel of soft sandy soil under his feet.
Walking in shallow waters, his foot slipped. The mighty river pregnant with monsoon waters began to drift him towards the deeps. No one heard his fervent cries for help.
Tabby had lost all hopes when something hard struck his shoulder. A big black tyre calmly floating towards the shores. He held on to it with all his might and prayed for his life. Till he was deposited safely on the river side.
Of course things changed after that day.
It was a matter of time before Tabby undertook all possible education associated with tyre-making, to become the biggest ever success story in tyre industry.
‘Gallop – A saviour of your life journey‘ – That’s his new tyre brand that adorns the bill-boards all around the country.
~~~ ~~~
I wrote my above story for Sunday Fiction. Thanks for reading! Do give your feedback about my work.
Photograph by Barbara W. Beacham
The Lives of Witches and Bitches
From her small balcony, the witch watches her world go by.
Although no one has seen her closely, hers is a youth scarred by years of neglect and ill-health. Frail body, matted hair and dull skin make her look older. Some mornings, one can hear her howling as she sits in her balcony, staring into the vacuum.
Recently, community youngsters reported that she’s now a regular at the local pub. Some nights she gets so tipsy that she laughs boisterously while picking ruckus with all the ‘gentlemen’ there.
What amazes our community is that her pub persona is so unlike her usual weeping self within her quiet house. The new joke around town is: ‘Witch by the day, bitch by the night’.
Little do they know that the duo are identical twins. One, a house-bound agarophobic who cries a lot, and the other a sociopath who laughs unbound. Two daughters deserted by a mother who was deserted by a gentleman.
(149 words)
.~~~
This is my take on flash fiction challenge Mondays Finish The Story. We are provided with a new photo each week, and the first sentence of the story.
Copyright ©2015 Written by Alka Girdhar
With time, I have learnt to be my own rock! Even in times of dire need I’m well able to keep my worries to myself till I can. I feel, any time spent asking others for help, can be utilized trying to do it myself. That’s because now I know many life answers. Other than that, even though I try to help others whenever possible, I do not find it easy to ask others for help.
Not just asking, I sincerely do not expect or demand any help from others. Life is very busy for all such families who are working full-time or over-time so I try to avoid telling people to take precious time out from their busy schedules. I also do not judge anyone for not having helped me.
But I was not always like this. Being born and brought up in a big family was a different thing altogether, when we all were dependent on each other. Later on, the family I got married into was also the same, quite big though smaller than my birth family. In both these cities, both families had huge extended families with all their social events, perpetual marriages, birthdays, religious events and what not.
In big families people are just there for each other – simply by being there. They do not have to ask each other for help yet all the work load, little miseries as well as bigger problems, literally every little thing is automatically shared, often without a word. Emotional problems also get taken care of. Thus, inside home-front or outside, my native cities were full of relatives and friends who, despite occasional conflicts, were co-dependent on each other as well as stood by each other. I too found strength experiencing the merits and the demerits of such dependency.
These were the lessons learnt during first half of my life. But that’s that. Thereafter it’s been a life that was pretty much lived alone. Alone means, as a couple with no extended family at all in the city I live. A growing child is a company but he could not be our rock as such. By the time a child is grown up enough to understand what life is all about, parents have already become their own rock. So it was for me.
Years ago, when we initially migrated to Australia and we were younger, there were friends galore, rather one too many. There was too much of mutual dependency as our kids were born, school issues arose or we were generally helping each other settle down in a new country. But soon people got busy and scattered to different locations. Actually my family moved away. More new friends came along but we left them behind after once again moving to a distant suburb. All these wonderful friends, who were very close once, seem to be totally changed whenever we see them after a long time. Our priorities changed, lives moved on. None of these groups could ever be our constant rock so we learnt to rely primarily on ourselves. Of course, other than these ever-evolving friendships, there are ever-changing workmates, besides the wider Australian community, new neighbors as well as Indian-Australian organisations. Helpful but they can’t be our rock.
Overall, when this process of change occurs a number of times in life – this parting from family and friends – we become stronger. Thus after this vagabond life, at some stage I became my own rock. Literally I seek strength mainly from myself. And it comes. It always comes. It’s there inside us.
For example, owing to my husband’s work hours as well as work-related tours, I often got to experience a life where, along with my own career goals, I had a major share in household work as well as taking prime onus of bringing up our only child who never had any grandparents or extended families around him. I had to do my best. I could do it.
Only after his schooling finished that I finally felt free to spread my wings around, to seek local people who can be of some help. Such people are many and yet they are not many. Because only a handful of people in the world truly care for us. That’s not surprising given the fact that most people can’t relate to our life and circumstances, esp. those who live far away have not seen our life’s ups and downs.
And yet, through all this, my mother who lives in India has been my constant rock, even if it is more of moral strength. I should not and do not expect her to be my rock, as it is rather they, our aging parents, who need us to be their strength which we cannot be as we live so far away.
Lately, as my son got busier with his higher education, another realization has dawned upon me that parents can’t keep centering their lives around their children, as they eventually leave the nest sooner or later. Getting prepared for the inevitable time, I too am gearing myself to become stronger than I have always been. Moreover, if the family structure and priorities change, all my previously acquired strength is not going to be of much use. That’s because growing young children need a different kind of all-round support and love. But soon it will be more of mutual exchange without any expectations from parents’ side. Parents need to become a rock as they learn to let go of the usual smothering and clinging love they once had for their off-springs.
Parents approaching middle-age also need to strengthen their physical health, while fulfilling their pending career dreams and hobbies, as well as learning to be happy for themselves rather than seek joy only through their children who are about to move out to have their own life. When children become less dependent, parents also need to renew or strengthen their family friendships and look after their own social needs. At this stage, I too will need more friends for things big or small. Being busy with our young families and career issues, we ourselves drift a bit apart from our close friends and families, we isolate ourselves mentally. That uncaring attitude has to go to a certain extent.
And yet, I may still not rely on too much help from others. I will always try to be my own rock – mentally, emotionally and physically – at least till I can. I usually seek internal strength through prayers and music. That will continue.
~~~
In response to The Daily Prompt: I Am a Rock
‘Is it easy for you to ask for help when you need it, or do you prefer to rely only on yourself? Why?’
Two Karmic Poems…
Karma, I learnt, is a real thing
You pay off all the debts you owe
You shall reap all that you sow
It all comes back, out that goes
History repeats itself
Till lessons are learnt.
If we don’t focus
Our toast will be burnt
Everyday, karma shows its ways
The day I sleep late, I wake up late.
If I give love, I get love
They give me hate, I give hate
To improve my karma
I will have to change.
They may give hate or disdain
I should give love and care
If others hurt me, I instantly cry
If I hurt others then also I cry.
To change my karma, I’ll now change
If others hurt me, I’ll never cry
Law of Karma sets me free
I have free-will to create my life.
If I change my habits now
It can improve my future life
Karma says, you do things
but aren’t the doer, He does it all.
Stay detached, work without desires
And you shall never fall…
~~~~~~~~
Karma chameleon changes colour
As per your own karma.
Presence of good deeds is good karma
Presence of bad deeds is bad karma
Absence of bad deeds, good karma?
Absence of good deeds, bad karma?
Doing no deeds, is also karma
Thoughts and intentions also karma
Good thoughts are good karma
Bad thoughts are bad karma
Your karmic blunders ripple
to your children’s karma.
As they pay and emulate
the exemplar of your karma
~~~
So you agree with my above thoughts? Feel free to comment and share your views.
© All rights reserved by alkagirdhar.wordpress.com 2015
Bewildered that I was
which fictional character
apt for the Interview?
My atheist son
came from nowhere
thus resolved my issue…
What’s the confusion?
Open a religious book
characters there are many
Geeta, Bible, Quraan, all
Krishna, Jesus, Mohammed, all
pick one, pick any.
The heroes of these stories
want you faithfuls to love
you became each other’s enemy??
~~~
I don’t endorse
all of his views
I believe in One and all
As usual I snubbed him
At times, pictures work
when all verbal logic falls
Are these unborn atheists also fictional?
~~~
I previously had a similar argument with this wannabe physicist/scientist.
Please read Agree to Disagree.
The above poem was in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: The Interview
“Interview your favorite fictional character.”
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-interview/
Picture source: baby
© 2015 Alka Girdhar
Three Letter Words
do they not like?
But three makes sense
Things happen in threes
~~~
Divinity comes in threes…
God – The Omniscient, The Omnipresent, The Omnipotent
The Holy Trinity – Father, Son, Holy Ghost
Creates, Redeems, Sustains
The Trimurti – Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva
The Creator, The Preserver, The Destroyer
Buddha’s Triple Gems – Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha.
The Enlightened One, His teachings, His followers
~~~
Life’s three phases
Birth, Life, Death.
Time’s three realms
Past, Present, Future.
Sin’s three types
Thought, Word, Deed
Triple shades of health
Body, Mind and Spirit
~~~
Three – Not bad
Why avoid three?
We’re often third time lucky
Count – one, two and three…
The farmer’s wife had cut off the tails of three blind mice with a carving knife and, see how they ran.
(In Australia, Triple Zero (000) is the primary national emergency number. Police, Fire, Ambulance – help yourselves…)
~~~~
© 2015 Alka Girdhar
Magnanimous Word 