“What is the point in playing, when I can anticipate the other’s moves?” He often smiled in a derogatory manner, watching his siblings play. Twelve years later, he applauded in the audience, as his closest rival and twin brother received the National Award for his book. The rows and columns had been extended on all … Continue reading Unanticipated
“Vandalism has only rendered the statue headless. The persona with life experience imprinted on stone cannot be erased. I can see the pain, the scars and triumphs which moved the sculptor’s hands.” “I agree. History can be rewritten, not erased or undone.” (255 characters) Twittering Tales
why tame desires to scale high peaks, rest my feet, live to tell all tales to inspired kids who will climb ladders I carry? Weekly Writing Challenge #151
focus sight above watch evaporating hollowness of effervescence Vision BrewNSpew Cafe 7
psychoanalysts wielding a surgeon’s knife but failing to reach dark depths of the human brain cleansing is high ambition Ronovan Writes
Fannie Hooe came and disappeared in a flash, leaving tales behind. The paparazzi failed to notice that her sister’s child was not seen after that. Her sister was a single woman, and soon left town, but nobody enquired about the father. In fact, it should have been about the mother of her child. Fannie Hooe … Continue reading Paparazzi
I fly across the sky see specks scattered below and know it has all been in vain life Sunday Writing Prompt at MLMM
Life holds surprises at the other end of the rainbow, and all are not bad. I started life in this lane and rode a bicycle, because there were no other means of transport. I see my son riding a better bicycle as a sport, as I alight from my chauffeur-driven Mercedes. The effort needed to … Continue reading We never know
remnants of past self bring silent reminders possibilities tug and pull to show the path there is more than what we see Wishing you a happy anniversary, Frank! Haikai Challenge #43
Pic : Self
Unweaving woven threads
sometimes a necessity,
borne out of,
deceptive materials at large,
fingers deft
at putting them together,
now fumble
and quiveringly linger,
to undo their
own painstaking craft,
broken strands
can’t hold others,
weaken even those
that run their course,
and over time
the holes only grow,
Now undone,
each thread on its own,
time for the culprits
to be let go,
the fingers search
with experienced eyes,
for threads that love
being intertwined,
to weave a new fabric
once again from the start,
resilient in each strand
that’ll make its core,
and together those
that now shall meet,
will withstand,
the ominous tests of time.
© vidursahdev 2018
