The Meeting Place (Sunday Photo fiction)

Sunday Photo fiction

The old lady waved goodbye to the strangers, the couple she had met in the bus. They had come from a faraway country to see the beautiful, old church not far from her meeting place. They did not speak her language but she was able to convey to them that she would show them the road to the church. They thanked her profusely and she walked towards the park.
She and her friends met regularly and their meeting place had become such an important part of her life. She remembered those days after her husband passed away suddenly due to a massive heart attack. He had been fine that morning and had gone for his morning walk. He collapsed on his way back. Her son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren had been her support, pillars of strength. Her friends who had been a part of her life for decades helped her. She could speak her heart to them, tell them thoughts that she could not tell her children. This meeting place was a source of strength. She sometimes came and sat there all alone. The peaceful atmosphere had a soothing effect on her.
She thought of the couple who had seemed to be kindred spirits. It would have been so nice if she could have talked to them and told them about her special place. They would have understood.

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

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The Meeting Place (Sunday Photo fiction)

 

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RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #232 Foot&Mouth

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Learning by tasting,
Everything goes to the mouth
Babies lift their foot,
The big toe reaches the mouth
I wonder what it tastes like?

Our daughter and family are with us for a vacation. They came on November 10th. Our granddaughter had just completed one year. She used to crawl about. Sometimes she would lie on her back and put her big toe in her mouth. But now she walks everywhere. She does not put her big toe in her mouth. Life moves on. There are so many stages in the first year of life.

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #232 Foot&Mouth

The Seagulls (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Sunday Photo fiction

The Seagulls (Sunday Photo Fiction)

She lived in a big city and life was one busy day after another. Sometimes she felt she lived a very lonely life, far away from the small village where she had lived for twenty years. The village where the sea was so very near, the vast unending sea. She had loved to listen to the waves hitting the rocks. There was always something reassuring about that routine. The sea and the waves were always there. She felt secure.

But something had changed as she crossed her teens. She started looking at life from a different perspective. The reason for this change was her sea and the seagulls flying far above. She had always seen them and taken them for granted. Earlier, the vastness of the sea had enveloped her and protected her from the problems of life. The outside world seemed far away. That day she felt as if she was seeing the birds for the first time. They were coming from a far away world. She felt as if they were telling her to leave, to get out of her comfort zone. She opened her heart to her parents. They encouraged her to follow her dream.

It was almost two years since she had left her home. She was glad she had come and believed the birds had changed her life. She had many friends but sometimes felt lonely. But she knew her family and her beautiful village would always be there for her. She firmly believed she was lucky.

(Photo credit : Anurag Bakhshi)

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Letter from Home-37 (Slice of Life)

 

slice-of-life_individual
17-12-18
Dear Doddamma,
We are all fine here and enjoying the company of our daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. They came from Bangalore on the 14th night. We did not go to the airport. Vinay was there and they came in a pre-paid taxi. I had made mango ice cream for Advaith. We all enjoyed it. Earlier my ice creams used to get a lot of ice crystals. Then I read that we should not keep the mix immediately in the freezer. We should keep it down, when it cools we should churn it once in the mixer and keep in the fridge. After an hour churn it again and then keep in the freezer. Now ice crystals do not form. I have some ripe jackfruit pulp, the jackfruit from our tree. I will make payasa, a sweet dessert made with coconut milk and sugar and I am also planning to try ice cream.

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One morning Gayatri’s childhood friend and her husband came. They live in America and have come on a holiday. Gayatri and her friend were meeting personally after almost four years. Tomorrow four of them are going to a resort by the seaside and will return day after tomorrow evening.
On Thursday we are going to Maikuri to see my husband’s father and brother. If my father-in-law wants to come with us, he will return with us. We had been planning to go yesterday but a cousin told us there might be a strike due to some political gathering. We did not want to take a risk.
Yesterday evening we went to endpoint for a walk. Advaith and Kavya enjoyed running about on the football ground.

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It is pleasure to be with our grandchildren. Advaith is learning to play badminton with his ajja. Sometimes the shuttlecock lands on the roof and both enjoy the moments when they have get it down. He likes to water the plants. We will always remember these moments.

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Yesterday evening Aravinda  and Kuvara attended a Hindustani classical music concert. Both love the music. They returned at nine. Gayatri, Vinay and children went for a ride on our bike. This Ind Suzuki bike is older than Gayatri. Kuvara uses it only occasionally but we don’t want to sell it, an emotional attachment to it.

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Amma is fine in Hyderabad. She had a scan last week and the doctor was very happy to see that there is no recurrence of cancer. She is also relieved. I think she and Anna will come to Bombay. Amma will be with you for two weeks.
I have posted some photos by Speed post. You will get them soon.
With lots of love,
Lakshmi

[‘Slice of Life’ has reaffirmed my belief that everyday moments are precious moments. They make us what we are. I have been posting my letters to my father’s elder brother’s wife, I call her Doddamma. It literally means elder mother. I mailed my letters to my cousin’s wife. She used to read it to her. One day she told me that doddamma enjoyed hand-written letters. She reads and re-reads them. So, I have once again started writing letters on paper and posting them to her. I edit and share what I have written to her in ‘Slice of life’. I like reading the different slices of life. We live in different places of the world but there is a sameness in our everyday lives. It is fascinating and that sameness connects us.’]

Letter from Home-37 (Slice of Life)

 

A New Life (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Sunday Photo fiction

She was all set for a new life, a new beginning. It had been difficult to break away from the old world, the old way of thinking, always bound by chains. All her life she had bent backwards to cater to the needs of others. In the process she and others had forgotten that she had her needs, her desires. One evening after work she had been going through letters from her grandfather. What she read in one of them gave her jolt. It made her realize her life was hers, a life she had to live on her terms, for herself. She knew she had to get away, and get away fast. She reached the gate, the entrance to the new world. But there were so many obstacles on the way, so many people in the way. But that ray of light from the past gave her the confidence to push through and go past the entrance gate into the new world.

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( Photo Credit : Sunday Photo Fiction)

A New Life (Sunday Photo Fiction)

Letter from Home-36 (Slice of Life)

 

slice-of-life_individual
11-12-18
Dear Doddamma,
We returned from Bangalore today morning at 6.45. We came in the night bus. There are plenty of sleeper buses now and they are very convenient. Our son-in-law, Vinay’s parents had invited all close relatives and friends for lunch on the 9th afternoon. Our daughter invited her cousins and families. More than 150 people had come and it was very nice because we could meet everyone. We went to Bangalore on the 8th night. Vinay had booked a hotel room for us not very far from his place. We reached Bangalore on the 9th morning by 6.30. We took an autorickshaw to the hotel from the bus stop. Vinay and Advaith, our grandson came to the hotel and Advaith said he would come with us to his grandparents’ home, which was just about ten minutes away. Our granddaughter, Kavya smiled at us, she had not forgotten us. 😊

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We left for hall at 11.30 Maharashtra Mandal. It is an old hall and there are many rooms too. People from the state of Maharashtra get some concession. Advaith was happily playing with the sons of Vinay’s cousins, all of his age group. Kavya too was fine. She was happy to see children of her age. My mother, brother, sister-in-law and niece had come.

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By the time we returned home it was almost 6.30. We were feeling very full, the food had been very good. Vinay’s mother invited us to stay for dinner but wanted to eat only some fruits. We went back to the hotel.
We had a good night’s sleep. The breakfast was very good. I especially like the masala poha. Vinay came to take our luggage in the scooter his friend had lent him. We vacated the hotel and walked to Vinay’s home. The streets of Bangalore are so busy and crowded. I was remembering the empty streets of Walldorf, Germany. 😊

Vinay’s parents, Vinay, Gayatri and children had to attend a wedding. We wanted to see Lalbagh, the very nice botanical garden in Bangalore. We decided to walk there. It took us about 25 minutes. On the way I twisted my left foot a little but there was no pain. I was not worried. We had very nice time in the park. The huge trees were a joy to see and it was so cool under the shade of their branches and leaves.

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By the time we came out my foot was paining. Fortunately, there was no swelling. We had planned to have lunch in the famous M T R ( Mavalli Tiffin rooms) but to our disappointment we saw it was closed on Mondays. My husband was always telling us about another famous hotel in Bangalore called Vidyarthi Bhavan. We took an autorickshaw to that place. The hotel was to open only at 2. There was place to sit and we waited. Many people started coming. At 2 we went in. The doors are closed once the place is full. As people leave others are allowed to come in. A group of ladies were sitting next to us. They told us all the dishes are good there, specially masala dosa. We ate that and drank very good strong filter coffee.

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Just outside the hotel there are many flower shops. The air was fragrant.

We took an autorickshaw back home. Vinay’s father had given us an extra key. We had planned to go to some book shops but gave up the idea. I took some rest. My foot was better by night. We took a taxi to the bus stand. Vinay came with us. Our bus left at 10. We had a wonderful two days. We did not go for our usual walk. I will have to rest my foot for a few days.
Gayatri, Vinay, Advaith and Kavya are coming on 14th night. We are waiting for their arrival. They will be with us till the 28th.
With lots of love,
Lakshmi

 

Lal Bagh – Official Site
horticulture.kar.nic.in/lalbagh.htm

MTR | Mavalli Tiffin Rooms
http://www.mavallitiffinrooms.com
Mavalli Tiffin Rooms, known more popularly as MTR, was established in 1924 and is one of Bangalore’s oldest and most well known restaurants. Now also open in Singapore and Dubai.

Masala Poha recipe
https://www.tarladalal.com/Masala-Poha-37604r
04-12-2012 · This is easy to make and tasty to eat. Good for snack or breakfast.

Vidyarthi Bhavan (Restaurant), Basavanagudi, Bangalore
vidyarthibhavan.in
Vidyarthi Bhavan, a heritage South Indian vegetarian restaurant, started in 1943 as a small students’ eatery (from where it gets its name), has become a place that makes up part of the culinary history of Bangalore and which has metamorphosed into what it is today, a place where time and tradition have stood still, drawing people from all walks of life.
[‘Slice of Life’ has reaffirmed my belief that everyday moments are precious moments. They make us what we are. I have been posting my letters to my father’s elder brother’s wife, I call her Doddamma. It literally means elder mother. I mailed my letters to my cousin’s wife. She used to read it to her. One day she told me that doddamma enjoyed hand-written letters. She reads and re-reads them. So, I have once again started writing letters on paper and posting them to her. I edit and share what I have written to her in ‘Slice of life’. I like reading the different slices of life. We live in different places of the world but there is a sameness in our everyday lives. It is fascinating and that sameness connects us.’]

Letter from Home-36 (Slice of Life)