Wordless Wednesday - 07

Let your creative juices flow. Give a name to the picture. 

Inviting your love for this week's photo prompt. Let the creative juices flow as you name it.

Last photo prompt is feeling lovable with your overwhelming response.

And they said.

Spread your wings - Daze diva

Cloud messenger - Indrani

Wait up! Don't leave me behind - Sreesha Divakaran

Wisps in the wind - NC Sue

This post is linked to wordless wednesday.

Reflections

Michelle’s world collapsed when her day started with the news of her dad’s accident. He was critical. His doomed journey was to San Diego to see his daughter. Michelle was up earlier than usual in excitement to see her dad who would be with her any moment. But here she was sitting at the café, down the road waiting for her cab to arrive. Restlessly she searched for the hotels near the hospital where her dad struggled for his life. Her dried emotions made her look pale and oblivious to the world around her. Little did she notice that her gleam behind the glass, where reflection of the two lives merged, made a perfect click for a photographer. 

Linking this post to magpie tales - Mag 287 

Wordless Wednesday - 06

Your titles are invited on this wordless post

Previous wordless picture recieved some names too

And they said

Indrani : Stone flower

Ila : Burst

Wordless Wednesday

When dreams won't let you sleep

One certainly needs to be the destiny’s child to have a smooth sail over the tumultuous facets of life, which I never was and to increase the severities, I received no emotional back up from the home front. But I guess, the tougher things get for me every time, stronger it makes me and yes more determined which transforms it into a battle with life. Life which keeps presenting hurdles to pin me down but I keep moving ahead in pursuit of my dreams. It happens always, only sometimes the tussles are short lived and at times they continue with difficulties at each step but one thing is common, all my dreams have made me struggle. The more I struggle, the sweeter the achievement becomes. At times my deep inner self questions my being for being so different, but I proudly rub it off, for being uncommon I have always loved and this is the story of one such offbeat chase which shaped me for my entire life, in fact became my way of life thereafter.

Being in uniform had always been a fantasy, but it took the shape of an intense desire when I wore it for the first time during my NCC days. At home, indulgence into any non academic activity was always discouraged but this one received a nod due to the various career benefits it offered to a ‘C’ certificate holder. But when I bagged the opportunity to represent my state in the RD parade camp in New Delhi, it wasn’t that easy. The age old formula worked even this time when my instructors and friends managed convincing my parents. It was a different flight altogether which livened up my dreams. My first real life encounter with the men in olive greens accentuated the madness which was much beyond the charm of the uniform. And I came home with a dream embedded in me, to be an Army officer.

There are dreams which won’t let you sleep and this one entirely took it from me. The obsession had possessed me but it required courage to leave a cushioned and well laid out life to the rigours of becoming a soldier. I was doing my post graduation in computer application, working part-time as a computer instructor, pursuing the DOEACC ‘A’ certification course and in between sneaking out time for another passion of mine, dancing. Life was moving on a perfectly designed schedule when I realized that this is not where I belong to. My secret desire had transformed into my fixation after my exposure to the army life in RD camp but somehow could not gather enough strength to announce it to my folks at home. I had always made choices which were different from others but this one surely was the biggest of them all. But I was not able to give up on it and it started affecting my performance in the studies and work, both. I secretly filled in the application for the Short Service Commission for women officers but couldn’t keep it under wraps for a long time as finally I had to go to face the SSB (Service Selection Board). Boys were known to opt for the life of an Army man but for girls it still was a ‘hush hush’ affair. This was a battle which I had to fight alone and when I broke the news at home, surprisingly the response was quite unexpected. My father believed that I will never be able to clear SSB and my aspiration will die its own natural death as all the known boys from friends and family came back home on the very first day of the board, not being able to clear even the screening. A similar fate was expected for me but I stunned everybody by managing a clear win the first day. There was inexplicable silence on the phone when I announced that I will be staying for the interview, a little longer. And thereafter the grilling session for the next few days which judged us on the various psychological, analytical and behavioural aspects was a learning experience in itself as it helped me to know myself in many unexplored ways. It sealed my life forever, and by the end of it I was sure of my decision but the result was yet to be out. On the result day, some hundred plus of us were seated in a hall where the judgment was to be declared. I was shaking with nervousness and counting all religious names. Four chest numbers were announced, my heart was racing with supersonic speed, hoping for a miracle as what we heard that generally four were selected in a batch and the mike creaked with one more which was not mine. By this time I had edged on the brink of the chair and with the last name shook my head. I didn’t have the courage to look around and see the officers moving out after declaring the results and then I heard, “The last one to make it in this batch is”. The number was announced but as if my ears were numb and refused to hear when the officer repeated the number as no one stood after the first calling out. The girl sitting ahead of me turned back and shook my desk, “Hello, your number is being called, stand up”. “Yes” I shouted and stood there confirming my details as the officer called them out one by one. Tears rolled down my eyes and I stood there still in the most pleasant surprise ever. Six selections in one batch! I couldn't believe it. Some girls were crying because they had not made it but mine were tears of happiness. My biggest dream had come true but even a bigger task at hand was to break the news at home. I was selected but there were choices to be made which would have lead me to different directions altogether and I did make one by opting to don the olive greens and make it the colour of my life in the days to come. I did choose to live my dream for next ten years which undoubtedly remain as the best decade of my life.

Home front? Oh! That was even a bigger success as my parents became so proud of me on clearing the SSB. No one from my family had ever been able to do that and in fact there were men in junior ranks but beginning of officer cadre was going to be marked by me. By the time I reached home, my success story had been flaunted all over the clan. If you desire something deeply, the universe conspires to make it happen. In my case, my family, my universe came around to join me in my most glorified win.

Me with my parents on the day of commissioning. A proud moment indeed. 

This post has been written for the Week end prompt of Blogadda. ‘I was inspired to follow my dreams’ 

Wordless Wednesday - 05

The past one week has been quite exciting. Starting up this month with a wordless wednesday but hoping more blogging ahead. I invite your love for this post in form of priceless words. Give a name to this frame.

Last week's post saw some interesting response.

And they said,

Indrani - Swaying devotion
Noopur - Beautiful
Anirban - Masquerade

I am grateful you stopped for leaving your mark.

Day 31. The Blog Marathon journey ends.

So a month long journey here comes to an end. The challenge of doing a Blog Marathon has been met successfully. It did actually put my writing to a grill and pulled me to my desk every day. Although there were days when it became just difficult to post a creative content, I am glad something did show up on the blog and definitely my readers pulled me through. So a huge thanks for doing that, specially the consistent ones. It would not have been possible without your support. Creativity cannot be bound in timeliness but had to do it at times when I met self made deadlines. All through the month I attempted offering a variety of writing, attempting different genres and it gave me an unbound kick. Ratings may or may not have implications but here comes the listings for the Blog Marathon.

Most widely read post was The Ill fated fated Rajdhani Express and Breakfast, the least. But I am hoping the latter will do better and its credentials are attributed to being a recent post. However my personal favourite in all were. (Sorry can't choose one)

The Rising of Ilaa (Illustrated in three parts). Catch it up here

Visit to Mc leodganj. 

Reminising the by gone times.

The fire of desire.

And there should be some critcism too, so I think my worst attempt was the Love Blues series.

So those of you who could not catch up the action earlier, it gets all laid out for you. Will see you again soon with more action here on this space. Happy reading.

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Day 30. Connections.

The mystic beauty of hills gets accentuated when they are vieled upon by fog. Sometimes thick enough to not let you go and sometimes alluring to take a walk through. I love the latter and with a gentle sprinkle of drizzle falling on my face, the ecstasy knows no bound. Such a heavenly weather has always pulled me to my most frequented place in Dalhousie. The old coffee shop which overlooks the valley, offering myriad seen, unseen dreams.  Every minute the hills achieve unattained ravishing artistry of nature with one surpassing the other. 

On one of such days when I sat at the cornermost bench after offering my usual expresso, my hands automatically slipped into the bag which I always carried outddoors and drew the small sketching book. While I was contemplating my frame for today's display of the mother nature, my attention drew towards the beautiful girl sitting adjacent to my space. Her eyes overflowed with an elated vehemence and with a furor of racing thoughts, her delicate hands moved perpetually on a small piece of paper as if they were in a hurry to soak up her heart and mind. My coffee came but as the waiter laid it on my table I disapproved what he delievered. "I had ordered an espresso and not cappuccino." I was loud enough to disdurb the much engrossed next table girl and she shifted her gaze to the cup of coffee served in front of her. "I think he mixed the orders. That what you have is my preference and this is your espresso." She pointed towards the cup infront of her. "Sorry sir. Both the orders were almost placed simultaneously so I got confused." The waiter immediately swapped the two cups. "Shit." The disgust over her broken pencil disturbed the solemnity of her look. My eagerness got a breakthrough and I offered her another one from my bag as I carried them in all varities in the small pandora box. 

"Have one, but if I may get a bit personal what are you rapt in?" 

She once again looked at me and placidly smiled. Her lips opened and poised with a deep tranquility. "I am a writer and am trying to capture the moment in my words."

"So glad to meet you. I am also an artist and seize life differently, on my canvas. While you attain your pleasures, if you permit, may I include you in mine? Can I draw your portrait?"

Ada agreed with some reluctance giving me my best portait being the damsel of the creation and later on being the one in my life. 

This post is written in response to the WOW prompt at blogadda this week. A post to weave a story around the words 'Coffee Shop, Broken Pencil and Writer'.