The petals of dandelions appear delicate yet they are so fearless to blatantly show their beauty. It’s not fragile, or vulnerable in a negative sense.
Getting to show off their uniqueness – the fragility, the vulnerability, the ability to free itself from the flower and wander off slowly, elegantly and settle somewhere unfamiliar – isn’t that stunningly brave? Isn’t that simply incredible?
To be not afraid of your own vulnerability, instead flaunt it and mesmerize everyone in the vicinity by simply being you?
This piece is written in response to the seventy-second edition of Fiction Monday for the below picture prompt and the word prompt ‘BEAUTY’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
It’s not time yet. That’s what he kept telling himself. He had convinced himself that in order to pursue his dreams he needed to be free of all the commitments in life. Work, family, kids’ education – so many things needed his full focus.
Pursuing his dream of writing a novel would require him to take a break from his demanding work which in turn would affect their financial situation. So, not now. And he wasn’t even sure how successful, he would be as a writer. It’s not like he was trained to be a writer. Writing was his passion. That’s all. So not now.
But it would be a satisfying experience when he finally took the step – that much he was sure of.
That’s what he thought until yesterday.
Today he got the scan results and received the grave news. He is sick. It’s time to take a break from his demanding job and check in at the hospital the soonest.
The unwritten novel haunted his dreams.
This fictional piece is written in response to the sixty-eighth edition of Fiction Monday for the above picture prompt and the word prompt ‘DREAM’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
The above thought was provoked by the simpler times that we enjoyed some time ago, which now feels like was a long time ago. 16 years ago, when I was in college, mobile phones weren’t as popular. There were only some kids who brought their phone to the classroom. Tariffs were still way too high at that time. Phone camera was not that good. But we still enjoyed the functionalities such as games mainly that came with the phone. We couldn’t download new games because there was no provision for that yet.
Phones back then were purely for texting and calling.
Then came out the ones with radio in it. That was revolutionary. The pure joy of listening to songs through the phone was exploited to its max by many of us. I didn’t have a walkman when that was available. Any of you remember walkman? So I absolutely enjoyed the radio on the phone feature as much as I could.
Today, though, I can listen to songs through multiple sources at my will, any time I want to, I don’t do it as often.
That simpler time and its charm isn’t lost on me.
The funny part is I remember vividly the times I used to listen to the songs on the radio, the transistor radio, much more lucidly than any other times.
What do you miss from back then when the times were simpler, but wasn’t easy as it is now?
She woke up with a throbbing headache that morning. What kind of a dream was that! She wondered.
To be honest it was a good one. She was happy in her dream. Laughing a lot. Bubbling with energy. She radiated joy.
But she never imagined her to become one of those shimmering stars.
Maybe the headache was a reminder to choose her path carefully. Loving something dearly doesn’t mean that you have to be lost in that something. As this thought emerged she sensed her headache fading slowly. She felt happy and alive again.
It’s a wonder that only a few weeks, maybe months ago I was writing, effortlessly. I was, wasn’t I? It wasn’t a far-fetched dream. A figment of my imagination.
After all, if you say so, I will believe that because becoming a writer was always been a dream of mine.
And I did write, I believe. They may not be the most captivating pieces ever. But I wrote. Daily I wrote. Some days I wrote many poems and stories. My pen never showed a sign of fatigue. My love for paper and pen never faded a bit. In fact, it grew more and more with every interaction we had.
Now, I feel they are fed up with me. The pen is not following my mind’s tunes. Thoughts are disappearing into the abyss to the disappointment of my blank page. Words, they are staying aloof. I can hear them sniggering, seeing my blank paper.
I feel like writing was a phase. Now it’s all burned down, leaving no residue behind. The mind is nothing but barren and it whimpers and trembles as the blank pages are filled with no words of relevance but the scratch marks.
I wonder what happened!
This turn of events was unseen. This is unbearable.
When did we become alien to each other!
The unwritten words are causing me nothing but pain. And I have no way of healing until the words start to flow at the tip of the pen once again. I hope that happens!
the way ahead was covered in darkness I’m certain I was lost there was no light no hand reached out to guide me no quotes shined in my mind’s eye nothing but plain darkness engulfed where I am rooted!
a little later, I saw shadows it made me jump the unexpected movement but, if shadows appear there has to be light a slight tinge of light, perhaps, a tiny ray spilled from some distant source of light without knowing that it is actually swaddling me in a blanket of hope, this blanket of hope might appear so feeble, but in a moment so fragile and dark, this frail coat of hope grew my courage and I held on, without giving up and intact stood my frail hope
then appeared the lush green the shadows disappeared in to greenery all around me the gentle breeze played with the plants, leaves softly fell whispering greetings to me the frail hope now blown into a stream of calm
the scary darkness bloomed into a ripple of peace and disintegrated my nightmare letting a new dream emerge!
This fictional piece is written in response to the fifty-first edition of Fiction Monday for the above picture prompt and the word prompt ‘QUOTE’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
This journey reminded him of the last one he had. He was very excited that day. Finally finding a home to live with forever! That’s the dream, isn’t it! And he was going to live that dream.
But that excitement didn’t last longer.
There was nothing homey about the home he went to live in. The couple who lived there always fought with each other. Instead of taking care of the new addition to their family, they used him to win their arguments. And he always ended up getting hurt in their quarrel and they were least bothered about it.
The abuse reached its height and one day two people from the shelter came and took him back. He came back to shelter more depressed.
Last week, another family came and they loved him. But he wasn’t hopeful. He didn’t try to impress them either. Though, he liked the two kids with the couple. Today the man came and took him.
He is going to live with them. But he isn’t sure how long this will last. Because who knows how these people would turn out to be!
His mind was full of questions. But he didn’t know that his life is going to be changed forever. The nice people took him home because they loved him. He was finally going home, his forever home.