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Showing posts from April, 2010

Emptiness

I watch the clock ticking by. It has encircled the time thrice already. I am still waiting for you. When I look out of the window, I see the neighbor's car pass by for the third time in three days. It is frustrating to say the least. 

I sit here all by myself thinking of how much I want to share my coffee with you; how much I want to see you smile. I know you that you smile every time you think of me and my  yearning for you grows stronger. The sugar cubes lie wasted just like the countless numbers of coffee lie  untouched on the kitchen table. Your chair awaits your presence just like I do. Your crumpled towel lies on the floor just as you left it days ago. It hasn't dried completely and I know you will complain once you are back. I long to hear your bickering over the fluffy piece of cloth. But I love the musky smell of you it has, which now slowly begin to fade. I wish you would come back soon. 
I set the table each night and stare at the empty plates. It seems the morsel of …

Please Don’t Die…

I came across a real smart blog post here: Talpita’s Why politicians don’t commit suicide? And I call this post smart because it got me thinking. It is indeed a thought provoking ‘thought’ that raises many questions [so many that it makes me want to write about it immediately!].
Now politicians are a unique breed. Something like the mushrooms which grow from within the earth that has bodies buried. And literally, politicians seem to thrive on dead bodies. So a politician, my dear readers, is unique because however much the world around them deteriorates, they continue to thrive. They are like CEOs of sinking companies who end up making tonnes of money. How? Simply by sucking the blood of the people who are forced into voting for them and to these same people, politicians promise ‘promises’ year after year which of course are in vain. Do you now know where the phrase, “Promises are meant to be broken” come from?
Well, it doesn’t end at broken promises but it definitely begins at the hug…

Caught the writing bug, have you?

Hello all,
I just came across this post on a Living your passion


"And then he/she took out his gun, aiming at her head..." Begin or end your story with this line! Write a 350-400 words short fiction story and get featured on our blog. Last date: 15th April. [Please note: your work must be original. One entry per person only and if it exceeds the word limit, it will not be accepted. Mail us your entry at livingurpassion09@gmail.com. Voting begins from the 16 April]
Maybe you would like to try!