I have decided to post a few short proses that I wrote over the past month. They are about a couple who are immensely in love with each other. Being an utterly hopeless yet tormented romantic my love for LOVE has always been quite visible in a number of the pieces that I have written. This is just a slice of the same. Hope you all like it.
She turns back to look if he is there and Yes, there He is. She giggles as she trips slightly. Despite being the epitome of clumsiness she knows he will hold her steady.
Teasing, she runs away from him as he follows. She dances ahead and He smiles. She is way more than he could fathom, way more than he felt he deserved.
So, this is going to be the first time that I am participating in an award nomination. I had been nominated when I first started the blog but as I am erratic I could never revert back.
So I am going to dedicate this post to the award I have recently been nominated for.
1. Thank the blogger who nominated you. Provide a link to the blog.
2.Write a post to show your award.
3. Brief story of how your blog started.
4. Two pieces of advice to new bloggers.
5. Select up to 15 bloggers you want to give this award to.
6. Comment or ping back and provide a link to the post to the blogs you have nominated.
First and foremost I would like to thank Vikas for nominating me for this award. He has a wonderful blog filled with the latest information of Cricket. He is a true cricket buff just like a lot of us. Do check out his blog at Cricket Vikas.
After a tryst with various avenues which included journalism, Modelling and Event Management, I realised writing is my true calling. As I wrote content for websites and blogs alike, I observed people and couples around me a lot. I started writing about their inert desires. Also around this time I fell deeply in love with a man who used to write poetry in answer to mine. He became my inspiration and that led to the birth of my blog. Even though we aren’t together and his heart is owned by another; he still is one of my inspirations. After all, love is not always about conquering someone. Also, being an ambivert who doesn’t share her emotions much, this was an outlet for me to portray the various phases and whirlwind of emotions I go through in my life.
Being very erratic on my blog, I am not someone who should be giving anyone any type of advice but as the rules say so.
1. Be REGULAR: As someone who is never regular, I would say if you start being consistent in your posts your blog you will garner more followers and likes. You should also be consistent in reading and commenting on other blogs.
2. THEME: Instead of merely pouring out your thoughts do so in a systematic manner. A blog with a theme catches more attention and has more followers.
Eg: ME. Haha! My life story is my own muse. So, I use my own photographs in my blog.
So, please don’t mind if I miss you out since I am so erratic. These are fifteen of the blogs that I enjoy reading. So here goes.
Numerous are her shades. She is an enigma that takes ages to unfold. You have to be patient to learn all that she withholds because once she unleashes her various hues, you will be left yearning for more and more.
So here I am. Unveiling the first look of my book. I am thankful to everyone who has supported me and liked my writings over time despite me being so Socially erratic” all the damn time !! I wouldn’t have been able to believe in my passion and dreams without it!
It will be out in a month or two. I hope you will keep supporting me in the same manner. I love you all! 🌼❤️❤️
Note: This is not related to my book. Just a fleeting thought I penned.
It was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
I had been disciplined since childhood,
With sticks and brooms and slaps and kicks too,
That was my parents style of venting out their anger,
And rearing the elder kid too.
I grew apart from them with time,
They never understood why I rebelled,
As I reached my teens I started losing my cool,
So it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me.
I reached my twenties,
I found a partner and as he went through a harsh phase,
I wanted to be there for him, listening to him into the night,
It was something my father couldn’t digest,
At the age of twenty four,
It was again nothing new for me,
When my father took a stick and hit me,
I protested and I shoved him back, my mother called me crazy,
After all hitting back is not how I have been disciplined.
More than a year later I can still see the marks upon my waist,
A reminder of that ill fated day,
What had been my fault?
Was it wrong to be there for someone you love?
But then parents can do no wrong,
They have always reared us with so much love,
So I am not allowed to question them,
Or tell others the very same, what would society think of them?
And anyways also I should have been used to it,
Why would I even cry over this common occurrence?
After all it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
It is just how I have been disciplined.
“She wants to prove me and my intuition wrong. She says I am still his muse, that there is no other,” I said to her.
She laughed, “Someone should tell her that questioning your instinct; a woman’s Instinct is like saying the illusory horizon exists. Unlike the horizon you can’t see it but it is there. A woman just sits there with her intuition, it knows facts that disillusioned people think they are hiding.”
“Didn’t you tell him that you already know? I mean, doesn’t it hurt you?” she asked.
“He isn’t telling me probably because he doesn’t want to hurt me. What is sad is I know about the other girl, her love for books and polaroids and how fascinated he is by her. That is my folly I know a little too much for my own good. Little does he know that he is hurting me more by hiding it,” I said. “Does it hurt, you ask? It does especially when you see right through his words and excuses and how he escapes the conversations, so I try not mentioning anything that would make him lie again. His hiding stuff from me, that’s what hurts.”