Category Archives: Uncategorized

Daily Prompt: Young At Heart

On aging I observe
Some people just never
Grow up while others
Mature before their time

I’d like to grow wiser
In thoughts and actions
While I attempt to destroy
My wrinkles by annihilation

Yet as I try to age
Gracefully through the years
I get bombarded by
Juvenility that appears

In latest pop hits and fashion styles
They attack my aging cells
Till I become unrecognizable of age
Which is actually pretty swell.



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Daily Prompt: I Have Confidence in Me

To be a better person
Touching lives
Walk out in the streets
All in my stride

To face the world braver
Whatever that meets my eyes
And never to look back
On regrettable lies

To believe more in myself
And the things I can do
By the power of my words
For all things true.


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Daily Prompt: Intense!

Such intensity was, and I suspect still is, this.

Awl and Scribe

If words could burn, I think they would with a purest light of the brightest flame.


Her fingers move slowly on
Faded words from a faded memory
Feeling the blunt searing pain
Seep into her heart again

How can it still hurt
After so long
Such a brief moment –
How is it so strong

She knows the road
That they’ll take her down
The world she now lives
Word by word they tear down

Of reading, ravishing and
Making whole
With his eyes, his words and
His bare soul.

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Weekly Writing Challenge: Moved by Music Somewhere in Time

I have always loved writing around music; not only do apt tunes draw out the right emotions with heightened intensity – as required to put them into words, they sometimes recount our stories in ways we could never tell.

While I love Michael Crawford’s rendition, here is the original piece that inspired it all:

Somewhere in Time

Twenty-eighth March. With a wry smile, she thought about all those twenty-something entries in her journals that meant something. Just as she thought everything has subsided, they take her on that devastating journey one more time.

Just once more tonight.

That evening, he had invited her to watch an old travel-back-time movie that was screening on the English channel together over the phone. She turned off the lights in her living room, switched on the television and dialed his number.

“Is it you?”


She froze. Weren’t those the exact words they exchanged the first time they met? Richard and Elise, the writer and the actress, she and he.

“Did you hear that?…” he sounded just as amazed as she was. A mystery that went unexplained while the plot spent itself into a poignant ending, telling the story of a love that changed their lives, both of them gripped in intense silence till the last moment that it ended.

Like the protagonists, she was consumed in his presence. It was terrifyingly intoxicating and there was nothing else she wanted, and nothing else she could do except to want him.

It was just another evening, chatting over the phone again, but that night his tone was more brooding than usual. He was calm, yet the silence was deafening.

“I told him, I tried. But he doesn’t want to let me go.” The situation was not on her side, and she was confused and troubled. She needed a kind word, but he was in no state to give her it.

“I cannot be with you like this… do you know what I feel every time you leave me to go to him? I want you in my life completely, or not at all. Can’t you see? I need you here with me!”

She could almost see his pained expression and touch his despair. But she too had no words that could comfort him.

Twenty-eighth March. Her fingers pressed the dials on her phone and she placed the receiver to her ear as the familiar dial tones repeated themselves. She waited.


One word, and a tremendous surge of peace washed over her tormented mind, soothing her aching heart. He sounded so reassuring that for a while, she forgot their predicament as they chatted about school and other trivia. But as they started making plans to meet over the next couple of days, she grew hesitant, brought back to the reality of her compromised situation. And he, sensing it, became brooding too. Then it happened, so suddenly. Without warning, their conversation took a turn for the worst.

“I know you are not in the position to decide… so I will do it for you.”

“I will do it because I cannot bear seeing you in this state over me, over us. It will be for the better.”

That quiet afternoon, behind closed doors, she hung onto the receiver, too overwhelmed in shock and pain that sent her reeling to say anything. And for what seemed like a very long while, not a word they uttered. Only the silent wrecking sobs that shook her body and the taste of hot new tears that could not stop. She knew he was silently crying, but she could not dry his tears any better than he could hers. There was no turning back. He had decided for the two of them.

Quietly, he hung up. It was but a quiet Saturday afternoon in March.

Long after, the dull pain that would surface on all those twenty-somethings each year always served as fresh reminders of how inept she was at fighting for the one to whom she truly belonged, and how helplessly she allowed the course of her life to be changed by him.

Yet, it was but the one time she tasted true love, so pure and devastating, in all its bittersweet glory.

End of Act Three


The above text appeared originally in a previous post as part of a novelette I have been writing. And I think I may have found the song for the final act, the lyrics of which again tells it perfectly:

We laughed, until we had to cry
And we loved, right down to our last goodbye
We were the best, I think we’ll ever be
Just you and me, for just a moment

We chased that dream we never found
And sometimes we let one another down
But the love we made, made everything alright
We shone so bright, for just a moment

Time goes on
People touch and they’re gone
And you and I will never love again
Like we did then

Someday, when we both reminisce
We’ll both say, there wasn’t too much we missed
And through the tears, we’ll smile when we recall
We had it all, for just a moment

Time goes on
People touch and then they’re gone
But you and I will never really end
We’ll never love again
Like we did then

We laughed, until we had to cry
And we loved, right down to our last goodbye.


Filed under emotions, feelings, love, novelette, Uncategorized, writing

Weekly Writing Challenge: Living History

Recently I arrived at that part of my course readings where linguists discussed how published texts like the newspapers and magazines present distorted representation of information, no matter how factual they are or how slight the distortions.

While different POVs is not exactly a new concept to me as a copywriter pen-for-hire, the skewing-of-newspaper-reports bit is still a tad hard to take in. I mean I – together with almost everyone else, except perhaps skeptical linguists – have always believed that news, being reporting of events that actually really happened, must be telling the truth and nothing but that.

I literally woke and found my intellectual self robbed of its innocence by the slick and smooth press.

Sobering up and thinking straight, communication media is surely the largest pen-for-hire, albeit more heavy-weight and influential. And now that I mentioned, everything seems to be skewed in a certain politically correct or socially acceptable way. Even as I type now, I am very much aware of why I have chosen to write this post using particular words and in this particular style. Nothing is as is seemed anymore.

I am a reluctant receiver of linguistic enlightenment.



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Thank you, for loving me

Today I just wanted to quietly return, because I promised you that I would, and then leave in much the same way.

Yet when I entered the place, you called out to me and ushered me towards what you had secretly prepared. The table was filled with a potluck of tidbits you love and the highlights were the performances by you, for me.

We chatted, just like old friends who hadn’t seen one another in a while, and I noticed how much wiser and more composed you have become. You filled me in on your lives and thanked me for the good-luck cards I’d made. Then we tidied the place together before you left.

What you reciprocated is hundredfold of what I gave, and I am humbled by it.

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