Month: April 2016
IBMC #5: The Not So Quite Quote Challenge
Lily was scrolling through her newsfeed on her phone when her friend Courtney messaged her. She sounded really hyped about the online novel she was reading. The latest chapter apparently ended in a cliff-hanger, and it was all Courtney could do to not jump off a cliff, she said.
Continue reading “IBMC #5: The Not So Quite Quote Challenge”
IBMC #4: Hunt a Haiku Challenge
The task is to take this quote and make meaning out of the following haiku:
the sun will set slow
people go home for shelter
sun will rise again
The day was over, and the sun was gaining an orange hue on the western sky. The day had brought the waters into the homes of hundreds, and, fortunately for the inhabitants, it was taking them back with it. The homes themselves were in horrible states, but what could they do? With the sun slowly receding over the horizon, reflecting itself in the waters it had brought, the day was done. What little was left of what they called home would have to do as shelter for the night. And after the night, a new day will come, and a new day was always better than desperation.
IBMC #3: Risk for a Random Challenge
The club badge doesn’t gleam the way it used to. The mechanical pencil was hiding in a crease. Dust motes were matted to the surface with coconut oil. Fat grains of rice did not suit his tastes, despite his wife eating leftovers everyday. She needed to clean her desk to maintain a semblance of sanity. It was a beauty, the lilac and yellow sky. Stars twinkled brightest after a storm. Why was the hottest part of a flame a cool colour? The canyon crawlers will eat me. It was all just a game. The world’s biggets super-slide makes me queasy.
IBMC #2: Freeze a Foto Challenge
This picture is of a rose in bloom on my grandmother’s gardened terrace from 4-5 years ago. It doesn’t really represent the entire place because I remember a cousin saying that if he ever had heaven, he would wish for that terrace. Nanu had all sorts of trees up there; from mangos and lemons to chillis and medicinal. She had everything. The house was a two storey one that my Nana had built way back, before the ’71 liberation war, and had to face an ongoing lawsuit to keep his. After he died in 2012, it just wasn’t the same. To this day, my brother is angry at my uncles for allowing the house to be demolished in favour of the more modern apartment complexes. It was the only place he could call home, he said. When Nanu had to live over at my aunt’s because of her pregnancy, the terrace-top garden suffered from lack of care and died off. But the memories remain.
IBMC #01: The Cool and the Fool
It was a part of being who she was, she knew by now, laughing at things no one else found funny, being completely comfortable with circumstances that would faze almost everyone else. The joke going over her head while everyone laughed, and being uncomfortable with something everyone else felt at home with. When the world walked, she stood back, and when she walked, the world discouraged. She knew she was nothing to be proud of. No, far from it. Yet people looked upto her, and she didn’t know why. At least, not until she found her kind of crazy.
There’s more to life than I see, and I’ve realized that both people who think I’m cool and those who think I’m a fool matter t some extent.
A Different Feeling
It’s been a while since I wrote something other than fiction. Actually, it feels like it’s been a long time since I wrote anything. This might or might not have anything to do with… I don’t really know what it has anything to do with, really. I just know that these days, I don’t usually feel like writing about anything specific. And I’ll talk about that in a bit.
First, I think it’s time I stopped keeping the secret and spilled. Continue reading “A Different Feeling”
Clarity: A Collection of Flash Fiction
She wished life’s choices could be as easy as the untinted windows of their car were clear.
Two Sides of the Same Coin
Here’s something I wrote back in November for the Prestigious Writing Competition.
Here is my entry for the Prestigious Writing Competetion 2015. It got the position of 1sr Runner-up. Please leave constructive criticism. God knows I can improve.
Nina felt desperation grip her. The beginning scene was supposed to be something unforgettable, something that anchored you to the story. Why did she have gaping holes in her memory of that near-perfect epic she had cooked up?
This would not do at all.
She sat up from bed, hands in her hair, and tried to remember it. By staring at the sheered rectangles of light on the wall in front of her, by closing her eyes and straining. Just one frame. One moment in the entire scene. One small thing her protagonist said. Anything!
Keeping her eyes closed made her drowsy, however. So, she opened them again. Her eyes darted from one corner of the dark room to another, as if the walls…
View original post 983 more words
Yarnful of Stories 