Reflections (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Leena gazed at the beautiful scene in front of her. Its serene aspect affected her deeply. She realized that she could never be at peace unless she learnt to accept that every stage in life was different. The present was more important than anything else. She had to learn to live in the now. No one could hold on to time.

Her mirror had been her greatest friend. It told her how beautiful she was. She did not want to grow old. That was her greatest fear. She did everything possible to look younger than her age. She had succeeded too. People admired her for it.

In spite of all that there was no peace of mind. The terror of growing old haunted her. But her body was growing old from inside. She could do nothing to stop that. She thought that a change of scene would help her.

The mirrored scene helped her to reflect. In one moment life changed. She accepted her fear and her aging body. Then she knew that she was free.
(176 words)

Photo credit : P Allman


Everyday Moments (# SOL- 2019 )


My weekly Slice of Life are my letters to my Doddamma. She is my father’s elder brother’s wife. Doddamma literally means ‘elder mother’. She is 88 years old. She cannot hear properly if I telephone to talk to her. So, I have been writing letters to her since October 2017. I enjoy writing letters and she is happy to read them. They are only about the everyday moments in my life. I post my letters to her every week.


I posted my letter to my Doddamma yesterday evening. I always remember my paternal grandfather when I put a letter into the post box. We used to exchange letters regularly when he was with my father’s elder brother. Our grandson was fascinated when he posted my letter. I told him I would write to him. In my letter to my Doddamma, I have written a lot more about the activities of our grandchildren and I sent some photos too. She likes photos. They bring alive the moments.

Every year on the day which we call Mahalaya Amavasya, most people here perform certain rituals in honour of their ancestors. We believe that we should remember them. On the 28th we attended this ritual which we call ‘Ashtage’ performed by my husband’s cousin in a hall in the premises of the temple of Lord UmaShiva. The eldest in the family and extended family performs the riuals. My father-in-law is the eldest but he is in no position to perform the rituals. We asked our family priest and he said the next eldest member should take the responsibility. We left home at 8 in the morning and reached the place at 10.30.



I have been feeling like stitching something. So, I took some old materials and stitched covers for a fan and for the extra gas cylinder 😊. It was fun.

20190919_095604I was trying to learn typing in my language, Kannada. The keyboard is in English and there are different combinations to type the Kannada letters. Then, our friend told us to try Google Kannada. We have to type the Kannada word in English and when we enter space, the word appears in Kannada. It is really fascinating.

Life is going on as usual. I don’t write about what is happening in the country and in the world because both of us read newspapers. But I include my Sunday Photo Fiction. She said she enjoys them.

Mahalaya Amavasya 2019 Date, Significance | Pitru Paksha Importance, Rituals

This is one of my favourite quotes from one of my favourite books, Lord of the Rings by J R R Tolkien.

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”


#SoCS Sept. 28/19


Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “ent” “ten” “net.” Use one, use two or use all three (bonus points for using two, double-bonus points for using all three). As Linda would say, use ’em any way you’d like. Enjoy!

The prompt ‘ent’ immediately brought to mind Entwood and Treebeard in Lord of the Rings. I loved Treebeard and loved reading about his life. Just imagine trees walking about. I wonder what would have happened if they could do that now. With trees being destroyed in the name of development, where would they run to?

Coming back to Lord of The Rings, I read it to my son in 1994 when he was in 4th std. He had just completed ten years. He has a vision problem called Retinitis Pigmentosa from birth. I love reading and cannot imagine life without books. I did not want him to miss that wonderful world of books. I used to read to him right from the time he could understand books. I still remember those days. It took us forty days to complete the book. The story pulled us into its net and we lived in the Middle Earth. I don’t know how many times I have read the book over the years, sometimes the whole book, sometime in parts and it has never bored me. My son too loved the book. He has BBC adaptation of the story and has listened to it many, many times. The story-telling is very good.

I liked the movie too. Usually movies based on books do not live up to our expectations. Maybe what the director imagines is not what we imagine. I still remember watching The Count of Monte Christo. It is one of my favourite books. And the movie was so bad, the whole story was changed. I was disgusted and decided never to watch movie made from my favourite books. I was very hesitant about watching Lord of the Rings. I did not want to be disappointed. And I was not disappointed.

But, reading a book and imagining that world is any day better than watching it on the silver screen.

Lollipops (Sunday Photo fiction)

Advaith loves lollipops. There is something very satisfying about them. He sees the shape of a lollipop everywhere. Recently, he was enjoying his vacations in his grandparents’ home. It was the rainy season. He and his sister loved to splash about in the water holding umbrellas.

He liked to explore nearby places with his grandfather. There was a small stream nearby. He loved to make paper boats and run after them as they floated gown the stream. His grandfather enjoyed telling him about the different plants, their flowers and seeds. The wild fruits were tasty too.

One day his grandfather wanted to show him something which he thought would fascinate Advaith. They set out early in the morning to the mountains with sandwiches and lollipops of course. Advaith wondered what his grandfather wanted to show him. They walked along a path when he stopped in surprise and wonder. In front of them were giant lollipops. Some of them looked as if they had been eaten. He knew they were not lollipops but he hoped they were. There would be so much to eat. The duo approached the beautiful plants. Looking at them the grandson wished they were really lollipops.
(199 words)


Photo credit : Morguefile

Everyday Moments (#SOL-2019)

My weekly Slice of Life are my letters to my Doddamma. She is my father’s elder brother’s wife. Doddamma literally means ‘elder mother’. She is 88 years old. She cannot hear properly if I telephone to talk to her. So, I have been writing letters to her since October 2017. I enjoy writing letters and she is happy to read them. They are only about the everyday moments in my life. I post my letters to her every week.

Today afternoon I went to Asare, home for the mentally challenged. I go there thrice a week. My friend and her husband started the institution as their daughter has Downs syndrome. Then our university joined hands and the institution is managed jointly. My friend’s parents were married for seventy years. Their son and family live with them. Her mother passed away on the 19th. She was 85. My friend is worried about her father who is 95. He is surrounded by a loving family but he will feel lonely.

I finished reading a fascinating book called The Gun Island by Amitav Ghosh. I have decided to take a small break from books. We speak Kannada at home and I am learning to type in Kannada. The keyboard is in English and each letter stands for a Kannada letter and there are combination of letters. It is complicated but interesting 😊.


I was reading about the beginning of fall in one of the slices. Here we do not have that season. After the rains stop summer starts but the weather becomes really hot from March. This is the second day without rains and people are worried that it might stop, it happened last year. We have to be prepared for water scarcity next year. But, at present the weather is nice, lots of flowers are blooming. Early morning when I go to the verandah I feel the fragrance of ‘sampige’ from our neighbour’s garden, parijatha and ‘country roses’ in our garden . They are small in size and hardier than the hybrid ones.


I made chutney powder with barley and two types of dal and red chillies. This time I did not add dry coconut. It has become a little too spicy But I don’t make too much at a time. I make little so that it finishes soon and I can make something fresh.
One afternoon we went out for lunch. It was after a long time. The food was good. There are many eating places in our place. Ours is a University town and a large student population. Earlier there were not so many places to eat. Sometimes I wonder if all of them do good business.

Every evening we try to go for a walk. We meet acquaintances and stop to exchange greetings. But on Wednesdays two of my neighbours and I meet, sit and talk. Otherwise we never get to talk to each other and time passes. Soon October will begin and before we realise the year will end.

“Time and words can’t be recalled, even if it was only yesterday.” Yiddish Proverb

Kannada – Wikipedia

Sampige Magnolia champaca – Wikipedia



#SoCS Sept. 21/19

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “wrap/rap.” Use one, use both (for bonus points), use ’em any way you’d like. Enjoy!

The assistant in the book shop rapped on the table to draw my attention to see if I liked the colourful paper she was using to wrap the books I had purchased as a gift. I had been looking at the books on the shelves, lost in another world. I did not hear her calling to me. Her rapping brought me back to this world. Book shops and libraries have been my favourite places.

Long back when my children were small I used to buy books for them. We still have them. I don’t think I will discard them. For the past many years I have stopped buying books. Our son buys books which he thinks should be collected. Books have become so costly so I borrow books from the library. I just finished reading the autobiography of a loved writer, Ruskin Bond called Lone Fox Dancing. I loved the book. I am now reading Gun Island by Amitav Ghosh. It is a fascinating book.

Books take us to so many different worlds. At this moment I remember the quote I had once read- ‘People who say they have only one life to lead do not read books.’ So true. Earlier I had read a book which covered nine generations and in the book I moved in space and in time. Moving from the past to the present brought home to me the very small span of our life. I felt as if we were only a grain of sand on the beach. And life goes on. Changes happen but so much remains the same. That is life.

On this note I will wrap my stream of consciousness here. I enjoy Stream of consciousness because it is fascinating how our thoughts move from one topic to another.

The Shadow (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Rupa stared at the chairs with tears in her eyes. She remembered that day when she had hurled other chairs in a fit of despair and anger. Anger against her mother who had never cared for her deaf and mute daughter. She gave her food but nothing else. Rupa believed that her mother did not even think of her as a human being. She had not even noticed the bruises in Rupa’s hands and legs. She had not seen the fear in her daughter’s eyes and in her whole body. Rupa had been only twelve at that time.

Her sister, who was much older than her, was away at college in another city. She had come home for vacations. She noticed that Rupa had changed a lot. She saw the bruises and asked her about it. Rupa broke down but managed to convey her fears and misery to her sister. Her sister was shocked and traumatized by Rupa’s terrible ordeal. The two then started living with their grandmother. Her love started the healing process. Rupa completed her studies and started working. She was happy but at unexpected moments memories would surface. The wound had healed but the scar remained.
(200 words)


Photo credit : Pixabay