11
Aug
13

in the mall

Freestyle writing where you write non-stop for a stipulated time period without lifting the pen:

Personally I hate going to a mall. I would rather avoid the crowd and over enthusiastic sales people unless absolutely necessary. However, if the visit to a mall is unavoidable, then there are lot of things you can indulge in.

You could venture to the perfume section where the sales guys are sure to numb your olfactory senses with fragrances ranging from musk to woody to floral to cologne and what have you.

Then saunter to the cosmetic section, where the dolled up girls will readily oblige you with a dab of a new compact or eye shadow or lipstick.

Next, enter any apparel store. So what if your wallet isn’t loaded? You can try out clothes that make you look like a million bucks and no one will question you. Ditto at a jewellery or footwear store. Treat yourself like a queen for sometime.

Watch out for the various promotional stalls offering you freebies from snacks to bags to samples of cosmetics, perfumes, etc. Go up and down the escalator. Tired of that, then try the elevators.

Enter a book store and devour your favourite authors without having to buy them.

Lastly, park yourself on one of the benches and observe people. Its a lot of fun and time just flies by. You have all sorts of people – in different shapes and sizes, with different needs and wants and behaviours. Shopaholic wives, harrowed husbands, tantrum throwing children, penny pinching dads, sale crazy moms, testosterone driven couples.

All in all you can have a fun day without having to spend a dime.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

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11
Aug
13

peace and tranquility

Freestyle writing where you write non-stop for a stipulated time period without lifting the pen:

Peace and tranquility are two things that everyone craves for. At work, we want peace to be able to function better and be more productive. At home, we need tranquility to unburden oursleves and revel in domestic bliss. Nations need to be at peace with each other so as to keep their citizens safe and ensure continuity of trade and commerce. People trave far and wide in search of tranquility. The Beatles came down to India searching for it. Osho, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, Vipassana, Deepak Chopra, Rhonda Byrnes, Paulo Coelho, Robin Sharma are all new age messiahs who lead distressed human beings towards tranquility by helping them seek it within themselves. Beauty pageant participants mouth these words in a bid to win the crown.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

11
Aug
13

in cold blood…

We had to write a story encompassing the below elements:

Scene: Wife is trying to conceal the murder weapon after killing her husband

Other elements: Wife’s appearance (height, hairstyle, age, built), Time of the day, Room she is in, How is the room furnished, reason for the murder

The clock struck 5pm. Rashmi realised it as she heard the loud cries of the Maulvi reciting the evening azaan at the nearby mosque. Just an hour ago, everything seemed like everyday routine. Yash had been home for lunch. Just like everyday, he picked some fault with her cooking and berated her for being sloppy. But unlike yesterday, something snapped within Rashmi. She just felt like she could take it no more.

She took a fistful of Calmpose tablets from the medicine cabinet, ground it and mixed it with Yash’s evening coffee. Now the clock chimed 5pm and Yash lay on the bed knocked out cold. He never felt the pain. She wasn’t a heartless bitch. For that matter she had never even killed an ant, forget a person.

In her mid-thirties, Rashmi was a tall and elegant looking lady with an impeccable taste and refined social grace. Married at a young age to Yash, Rashmi had wanted to pour all the love she had into their relationship. Alas, it was not to be. Within two years of marriage, Rashmi found out that she would never be able to conceive. Yash, unable to bear this humiliated started spending less time at home. Couple of months back while charging his cell phone, Rashmi happened to read his messages. What she read blew the daylights out of her. Yash was having a roaring affair. When she confronted him, he surprisingly admitted to it and since then has been openly toying with the idea of a divorce.  Rashmi, who was pulling the marriage for the sake of society could not bear the thought of going through this trauma and ordeal.

And so this afternoon, she dressed with extra care. Freshly shampooed hair left loose, slight make up, eyes lined with kohl, pink lipstick across her perfectly shaped lips, Rashmi looked ethereal. She draped the peacock blue saree (gifted by Yash during their happier days), prepared his favourite Hyderabadi Biryani. The bell rang, Rashmi opened the door and greeted him with a smile. Yash was surprised to see his wife looking so beautiful and for a moment his mind went to the divorce papers in his bag. Should he go ahead with it? But the thought lasted only a moment and soon he was back to his old ways, picking up a fight with Rashmi on a some trivial matter.

Post lunch, Rashmi requested Yash to pour coffee for both of them. He was surprised but agreed. He didn’t know, he wouldn’t wake up. Rashmi looked perfectly calm as she went about placing the bottle of Calmpose pills in his bag. Being, an avid reader of mystery novels, she was careful to wipe her finger prints off the things she touched. She washed and dried her coffee mug and placed it in the kitchen cabinet. There was only one mug on the table.

Rashmi looked around the dining room. The table mats were in place so was the bowl of fruits. The curtains were drawn together, the French windows shut. Being winter, she wanted to avoid catching the chill. Delhi winters could get harsh on you even in the afternoon and early evening.

Rashmi took a deep breath. she was finally liberated.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

11
Aug
13

if i were an author…poetry (non-fiction)

As you look out of the train, you can see the dusty, serpentine road leading to the sleepy town of Jejuri. Dive into Dilip Chitre’s ode to Lord Vithoba as he captures every little trivia with an observing eye.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

11
Aug
13

if i were an author…sports (non-fiction)

In a cricket crazy nation, there are lots of other sports that are dying a natural death. Everybody wants to be a Tendulkar but how many want to be a Dhanraj Pillai, Bhaichung Bhutia or Michael Ferreira?

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

11
Aug
13

if i were an author…true crime (non-fiction)

The helicopter bearing the initials IAF flew over Nariman House as a ladder swayed in the air dropping NSG commandos on to the terrace. Inside, gun wielding terrorists were storming through the house after having killed Rabbi Rivkin, his wife Rivka and several other Jews.

Who knew that a weekly gathering over lunch would turn into a heinous blood bath?

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)

11
Aug
13

if i were an author…science (non-fiction)

The silent killer. This is how doctors and the medical fraternity describe Thalassaemia. It creeps in your blood silently and slowly depletes you of your red blood corpuscles. For long, people have surrendered in the face of this dreaded disease. But not any more. The various research and experiments have thrown up answers that could help future generations.

(An assignment for Writestuff Writing Club – A community for writers who meet every alternate Sunday to discuss their work and learn more about writing and also to sharpen their writing skills.)