Saturday, 14 December 2013

Spirit of giving

It's strange how life throws little pieces of wisdom at you in the most unexpected ways. This is what I found today:

And how true it is! As the holiday season descends upon us, most of us would be busy with parcels and wrapping papers and amazon. Some (like me) would be snuggling with a steaming cup of coffee and a long-delayed read. But a large fraction of the people of this world would just be pushing on with life. Our daily goals would vary. Their only goal would be to survive another day; to endure the harsh weather and compile the bare necessities for living. The laughter of children that resonates through our houses wouldn't reach the cold hearth of their homes. 

And hence, we should embrace the spirit of giving, spread a little holiday cheer, share...

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

VisDare: The puppeteer

The curtains fell and Mabel bowed to a thunderous applause-along with a twenty or so life-sized puppets. The audience wondered how a single puppeteer could control such a large amount of puppets when her hands were so obviously clutched in front of her. 
Ida Sands-a bubbly thirteen year old-got a dare by her friends...again. Find out the secret behind Mabel's puppeteering trick. Her curly blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she skipped towards the back entrance of the theatre. She had just seen Mabel walking off to the town's only coffee shop. Adults and their coffee. She smirked. This cup of coffee was going to cost Mabel. Her slender fingers fiddled with the door lock. Within no time she had made her way inside. 
The inside of the theatre was dark. As dark as a moonless night. She felt her way around to a large curtained thing kept backstage. She peeked inside. Her heart fluttered in excitement as she felt the archaic, inscribed edges of the chest. Her fingers worked their way around looking for a latch. 
You owe me those ear rings now Dee. She sniggered.
She opened the latch.
Here we go.
Bright light dazzled her as she lifted the lid. She tried to shield her eyes with her hands butte they wouldn't move-glued to her sides as if they were stone. She tried to turn around, sprint back to the entrance and leave the theatre forever but she was frozen. And it was cold. Very cold. A whimper escaped her lips instead of the chilling scream that she had imagined. As the light faded so did Ida Sands.
Mabel sauntered back to the theatre, a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a chocolate chip muffin in the other. The open back door didn't come as a surprise. Small town kids usually had a penchant for snooping. She stopped to admire the bright afternoon. Possibly the last after noon of a certain someone. She wondered who had been trapped this time. Sipping her coffee she reached the curtained enclosure of her puppet chest. Parting the curtains, she glanced inside. A smile appeared on her lips. 

"Good. This is very good. I always wanted a porcelain blue-eyed doll."

Remember me?

Friday, 13 September 2013

Poetry blogfest

There is a wall,
Inert, unmoving, undefined.
Brick upon brick of clay,
Not so in my mind.

In my mind
There is a window
Through which
I see the sun glow.

And birds, and flowers and leaves.
And butterflies, mellow,
And there is a wind
That ever so lightly blows.

There is a wall.
Inert, unmoving undefined.
And beyond that wall, a world,
Dynamic, colourful, refined.
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