The Moral Of The Story…..

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Yet another page from the mother-daughter diary

“Mom, please tell me a story and put me to sleep,” my daughter requested. It’s a part of our routine. Sometimes I read folk tale books, and sometimes I play bedtime stories on YouTube (when I have a lot of things to wind up and anxiety kicks in thinking of the remaining agenda). But there are times when she demands stories freshly cooked up. She also hands me a few specifications, like certain characters, names of the characters, certain habits, and so on. Trust me, she plucks fruits of imagination from La La Land and lets me feast on some of the juiciest fruits. Once ingredients are given to me, the onus is on my shoulders to serve her with an enjoyable story, laced with a moral, of course.

So this time she wanted me to tell her a jungle story with a…

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Hey Don’t Call Me Aunty!!

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Originally posted On Candles Online.

What hurts a woman the most? The word “hurt” is making this an emotional saga and definitely, I am not in a mood to tell one. So let’s change it to ” Enrage”. Yes, that makes it powerful😉. So what can enrage a woman and invite her ire almost at the drop of a hat?Call her a bad driver she can still pardon you. Call her a nagger, you still have chances to watch that football match with friends. Illogical, argumentative, gossip lover – you still have bleak chances of making it safe. But one thing that guarantees a woman’s “you are so dead” look is calling her Aunty!!!!!

(Picture Credit – Google Inc.)

**Important Note: Don’t try the above-mentioned stunts at home**

Imagine a 25 year old lady who just delivered a baby and haven’t shed the extra kilos gained…

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Countless memories and countless emotions

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Source: Participating in Prompts and Challenges

Hi Everyone,

Every soul that takes birth on this earth be it any form of life has a journey which we call “life cycle”.  For souls in human body this journey of life is filled and marked with “Countless” memories and emotions.

Taking a ride down the memory lane, brushing aside the dust from the pictures life is standing as a flashback in front of my eyes and I am watching it without battling the eyelids.

A simple girl from a middle class family who loves to-day dream having high hopes and aspirations for future.  Academically good (at least everyone thought so 🙂 ) parents, teachers, friends and even myself had high expectations from me that I would do well in life.  Out of school, now in college.  A different and a bigger world.  Lessons were not just a part of classroom but every…

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Will-Knowledge-Action

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It’s a story of the reunion of a man with his daughters. A man had three daughters from whom he got separated. The three sisters were Ichcha, Kriya, and Vidya. He was leading a miserable life, until one day when the three girls reached his house and asked for shelter, as they were tired of playing. As it was dark outside the man decided to let the three little girls halt in his house.

The darkness was so terrible and threatening. The darkness was an invitation for the robbers to intrude into the boundaries of the house. They slowly started digging the foundation of the house. Their purpose was to crash the house and loot. As the walls trembled in that dark night, so was the man. This is not new to him. All his life he was under constant attack of burglars in the veil of…

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My Prized Possession

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A question that put me in a dilemma,

What is your prized possession?

That one thing that reminds of you,

And not passed on in succession.

I glanced with pride at the riches amassed,

But saw them settle down as rubble beyond a trace,

when fierce winds of time stuck with the lightening of change,

the proprietorship had a change of name and face.

I turned my gaze towards kith and kin,

looking through the prism of realisation.

They are bonds that bound me with responsibility and compassion

but soon will abandon me taking their route to liberation.

I contemplated my success and laurels.

But the happiness eluded me constantly,

as my desires soared in copious amounts and hunger was insatiable.

Everything I clasped with my fingers evaporated instantly.

Fatigue overpowered my soul and I collapsed,

at the threshold of reckoning and awareness.

My face was tucked deep in the…

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Superhero in the making

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Chapter 1

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” seven-year-old Nora asked her mother Kim innocently. ” Kim chuckled as she replied, “I am already a grown-up being, what could I possibly be now? Now hurry up and go to your bed”. She tucked little Nora into her bed and kissed her forehead “goodnight darling!”

On having received such an unenthusiastic response from the mother, Nora clasped and questioned her mother “what you wanted to be as a child, as in what have you dreamt of becoming in your adulthood? My teacher says everyone has a talent and a dream and we can turn our dreams into reality at any time and age. So tell me mom what you wanted to be?” and fixed her gaze filled with amusement and intrigue on her mother.

Kim smiled and sat down by her bedside “Hmm, I always wanted to…

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No Pain Left…

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Staring at the vast stretch of blank sky, I found the same emptiness dwelling deep within me;

Not batting an eyelid as the ambers burnt incessantly, leaving behind smoke engulfing my soul;

The rain drenched me to the extent of rot and the sun parched me to the extent of lifelessness;

No breeze could caress my heart, no rainbow could soothe my sight for there is no pain left either.

Amidst the cacophony of voices defining and defying me, I chose obscurity as my companion for I fear being identified;

As the echoes from the past are still eloquent in my ears, I chose to strangulate my opinions for I no longer wish to be heard;

Eternities passed by me as I longed for the solace of appreciation, I chose to embrace the earth beneath for I no longer seek;

Celebration of ironies and hypocrisies triumphed over acceptance, I chose…

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