Writing 101 – Day 20 – My most favourite possession

When they asked me to write about my most prized posession, I faltered. I closed my eyes and thought about what I really possessed that I hold dear. Quite predictably, I was drawing a blank. I mean, I’m not a hoarder of memories. I don’t store little trinkets away as memorabilia, never! The best that I did was to store some of the movie tickets, those that belong to some great movies and those that bring up some good memories. But apart from that, what else do I have? Family heirloom? Please, the closest we have to a family heirloom is a spoon holder that got passed down our family from one generation. That’s it.

Now that I think about it, I wonder why I never really paid materialistic things their due. I mean, they do mean something to some people, and they do have the power to bring back memories. But it’s funny how I never take something away from a memory to stash it for future nostalgia. But that’s just me, I suppose.

But see, I do have ONE thing¬†that has stayed with me for a long time and something that partly bolstered my one true trait. It’s been staring at me for so long in the eyes and yet it took me this long to realize how crucial it had been to me all along. I’m not in the mood for theatrics, so I’ll go ahead and say that I’m talking about my Computer.

Yes, my loyal and obedient friend. Who gave me a lot but also asked a lot in return ūüėČ

I guess I had always been fascinated with computers. And back in those days (I’m talking circa. 1997), computers¬†were relatively new in¬†the Indian market. And we had black-and-white monitors, mind you. Our school had been the first in our town to buy four computers for educational purposes.¬† Though the truth is that all we did was play games on it (Prince of Persia, Dave, Paratrooper). There were thirty of us in our class so everyone used to get about 10 minutes of time to play with the computer. And I used to wait in line, with eager eyes, just to get my hands on the keyboard. I was mad. But of course, after that we moved to a bigger city and our new school actually had Computer Science as one of¬† the courses. And they had color monitors with Windows 98, but best of all,¬† they had one computer for one student which meant it was all yours for the whole 50 minutes. Ecstatic would be an understatement.

Anyway, to cut to the chase, after almost two years of constant pleading from my side, my dad finally gave in agreed to buy a computer!! So it was in May 2003 that a brand-new sparklingly white CPU and a CRT monitor entered our house. And the rest, as they say, is history. Ok I did go for a bit of theatrics there, but that is the truth. I was one of the first kids in our class who owned a computer and I loved talking about it to everyone. “You know, today I found out that you can apply custom themes to Windows 98! I put a Jungle one and it is awesome!!” Maybe I was showing off a little too.

And that basically took off and put me on my life trajectory. I was the Master Tinkerer. It was Windows 98, of course, so naturally there were loads of times when something would go wrong or¬†the OS would stop to boot and I would have to troubleshoot and fix the issue. I loved that exercise, of finding out the precise cause of an issue and the¬†smugness¬†I felt when¬†it starts to work again! I learnt to disassemble and assemble the innards of the CPU all by myself. The undeniable truth is that I saved my parents loads of money by never having to call a computer repair guy. ūüôā

Well I guess I could go on and on about all the wonderful times I spent with my computer. How I discovered new things almost every single day.  How I got certified an official geek by my friends, and how people used to come to me to fix any issues with their computers. We still did not have an internet connection back then, that would come almost seven years later. True.

I did revamp my computer in 2010. The CRT had to be replaced with an LCD monitor. The motherboard and everything on it had to be upgraded too as they just couldn’t keep up with the changing times. It looked new, after all the changes were done, but I still think of it as my old friend. That soul never really left.

Years later, when I sat for my first campus recruit interview and the old guy sitting across the table asked me what my most favourite childhood memory was, you can guess what I answered back without thinking for a second.


And that’s a wrap for Writing 101. Even though I’m so late for this last entry, that the official forums have closed down so I can’t post a link there anymore. Yet, I would like to thank each one of you who has taken the time to read my blog. You guys pretty much made my day whenever you showered a like or an appreciating comment my side. For that, I feel truly blessed.

This has been one whirlwind of a ride, and I enjoyed each and every moment of it. Write on, folks!

Writing 101: Day 19 – Everything Changes

Well once again, we’re tasked to write freely for 20 minutes. Gawd. But anyway, this time I did a couple minutes of thinking before I started so I do know what I want to write about. Behold – It’s about “Rapid Advances in Technology!

Well I chose this topic as I know that this is something I can talk about. I guess everyone who’s born around the 1990’s has seen a tremendous shift in the way we lead our lives, more than any other generation if I’m not wrong. We have seen a significant change in the definition of “entertainment”, if I say so myself. I still remember the big boxy television we had in our home when I was a kid, which showed only a max of 8 channels. And how can I forget the antenna on top of our house which used to capture free-to-air channels run by the government. Everyone had one of those back then. And of course, the pain of having to press buttons on TV to change channels. When Dad suddenly one day purchased a “revolutionary” new TV which showed up to 100 channels, had a remote control(!!) and had so many customization controls that it took a whole day to understand it all – we were ecstatic! TV watching became a vanity, and whoever had the remote in hand was the boss. Now we have two televisions in our house. Each connected to a digital set-top box which dishes out crystal clear quality channels. There’s no more fights, no one argues over which program to watch anymore. If mum is watching soaps, bro is watching sports then I will turn to Youtube on my computer. They put all the TV shows online these days anyways, no one has to worry about catching a show at the exact time it is telecast on TV.

If I turn to music, I was one of those people who used to run to the music store to buy the latest audio cassettes (not CD’s, mind you). I don’t think the future kids would even know what a tape-recorder is. Or the once ubiquitous Walkman! What’s strange is that music CD’s are relatively new but they’re already dying. Why would anyone go through the trouble of accumulating physical discs when you can have it all digitally in your pocket. It’s interesting to note how technologies come and go, and how it is driven so much by public convenience and usage.

You can never call something the pinnacle of innovation.

I guess I’ll leave you with one more remark. Anyone remember Floppy Discs? You see them everyday, whenever you click the Save button. And yet, I don’t think the younger generation has ever held one in their hands. I remember the days when we would store documents and photos on a floppy disc to share between friends. And all it had was a max of 1.44 MB. Can you imagine? These days, not even half of a song fits in that space.

Writing 101: Day 18 – Mrs. Pauley’s Inclusion Principle

I remember seeing Mrs. Pauley the very first day I arrived on Autumn Avenue. It was all new to me Р the people, the houses, the trees, the animals. Feels like an eternity ago, but the memory of the warm smile on her lips, the curiosity in her eyes as soon as she laid her eyes on me is still etched strongly in my mind. I guess there are somethings you can never forget in life, no matter the amount of time that passes by.

Even though I loved my new home, my heart always wanted to visit Mrs. Pauley! Her house was smaller than ours but looked so welcoming! Mrs. Pauley loved baking and the wonderful smells from her kitchen wafted across the street towards us, making me drool. And it used to be so full of people back then too. Mr. Pauley, her husband, was always in bed though, and I often wondered at the coincidence of him deciding to take a nap every time I visit!! But oh my! What a fun time it had been, playing with her six boys. They all loved having me around, and I loved having all that attention! And did I mention that Mrs. Pauley made killer Butter Cookies? ¬†Mum’s had never been as good as hers.

Then one day I saw a lot of strangers visiting her house. Mr. Pauley had died, I overheard Mom say. I felt sad. Even more so since I never got to interact with him at all. But life went on. And through each passing year, I saw one less boy in the house. I caught the sadness in her eyes but she was quick to cover it up. The warm smile returned every time she saw me. She would take care of me like her own son, always making sure she had a cookie or something for me. Sometimes I really did miss her when I was home at night. Mum was awesome too, but Mrs. Pauley was simply nicer!

And today, as I sit on our front porch eagerly waiting for Mrs. Pauley to open her door, I see a police car pull into her driveway. Two people step out (one her landlord and the other a policeman) and ring the bell. The door opens and there she is!! But why does she look a bit different today? Her hair was crooked, her glasses askew and she was still in her pajamas. They go in and she closes the door behind her. I wait frantically for several minutes until the door opens again and the two men step out and leave in their car. This time Mrs. Pauley looked really really distraught and I was totally worried for her. Luckily, she spots me and beckons me to come over.

For the first time, she doesn’t smile when she sees me. Instead, she sits next to me and says, ‘The time has finally come, Tom. I’m gonna have to vacate this house in a week¬†as I cannot pay rent.‘ She gives the Rose plants in her garden a wistful look, ‘I wish Andrew¬†was here.’

Something tightens inside me. I want to tell her that everything’s gonna be fine. That help will come in some form. And that every one loves her so much that we won’t let this happen. But of course, I can’t say all these to her. So I rest my head on her lap while she strokes my fur.

Good dog, Tommy,‘ she says. I can sense that the smile was back again.

Today’s prompt:

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

Writing 101: Day 17 – Take a Deep Breath

I am sleeping peacefully on the bed, lost in a dream. But slowly I start to come to my senses. There is movement alongside me, and people are murmuring¬†all around. These people! They won’t let a bloke¬†sleep. I don’t want to open my eyes lest they think I have woken up. They won’t let me cuddle back to sleep for sure. Suddenly, I sense something different. It feels like I am floating in the air. What is happening? Maybe it’s my brain playing tricks. The murmuring has stopped now, I decide I can safely open my eyes. But when I do, I find something coming towards me. I can’t quickly place it, but below it I can see grass and a lot of legs.¬†

I realize that whatever that was, it’s not coming but closing on me! I quickly look around. I’m in a fucking coffin. I try to yell, but nothing comes out of my mouth. The lid¬†closes and everything turns dark as I grapple for breath. My mind goes numb while I start to die a suffocating¬†death…

If you’ve made it this far, then congrats, you now know what my biggest fear is.

It’s not the fear of dying, it’s the fear of being stuck in extremely confined spaces. A version of Claustrophobia, if you will. I’m fine with being in elevators and all. As long as I can move inside the space, I don’t have a problem. (I’m not like Robert Langdon, you see) But being stuck in places where I can’t move, can’t see, and probably can’t help myself out – that is what gives me the chills. I still get goosebumps whenever I imagine myself in such places. In reality, this never happened to me and probably never will but I don’t know why it affects me so much.

By the way, the account you read above of me stuck inside a coffin was an actual nightmare I had. I was jittery the whole day.

And if you have to know, I also have Entomophobia. The tiny devils!

Writing 101: Day 16 – Lost and Found

Part 3 of the dreaded “Serially” series is finally here. If you’ve read my previous posts, you’d know how I conveniently ducked the prompts by taking an entirely different approach to them. Needless to say, they don’t form parts of a series. And this post has no intention of being one, either. In my first post, I spoke about how I’ve lost my faith, and in my second post, I took the cheerful route and spoke about how finding our pet dog Winnie had been the best thing in our lives. So now comes the question. What have I both lost and found? Yes, I have lost my¬†stuff( e.g a lot of books, flash drives, university lab records!) and went into misery. You might¬†think I’m careless, but that is simply not true! Sometimes things happen that are just not in your control ūüôā Some of the things I have lost would have eluded¬†even the likes of Sherlock Holmes! Anyway, why am I digressing so much?!

It suddenly struck me that there is nothing more significant in this world that I have both lost and found than my Writing. So I’m going to dedicate this post to this part¬†of mine. I guess I always had this curiosity towards writing, even dating back to school days. I loved to participate in Essay Writing competitions(in both English & Telugu, which is my mother tongue) and won almost all of them. I think it was my interest towards Language, in general, that has pushed¬†me to invest more in the art of eloquence. Of course, it was also massively helped by my propensity to read. I was one voracious reader, I tell you – starting with newspapers, then magazines, then novels ( it was an era of very less internet penetration, otherwise who knows what would have happened!). So needless to say, I always scored well in languages, quite contrary to others who always got less grades in languages. And then I took French as second language in the final years of school ( It was wonderful, but probably a story for another day ūüôā )

It was also at this time that I ventured into writing fiction. I think I was 16 when I wrote my first short story. It was a very long and sad piece on an ancient Hindu practice and probably wasn’t very good. But it did resonate with a handful of people, who said they liked it. So it acted as quite a good boost, which led me to write one more for a contest the same year. This, too, was well received. And then that was it. I didn’t write anything for the next six¬†years! Yes,¬†six!¬†Strange, isn’t it?

A lot of things contributed to this. I relatively got busier when I started college and didn’t have much¬†time for creative writing. I found new interests like software development. And then I convinced myself that even though my writing was¬†okay,¬†I’m never going to become a famous author or anything¬†so why waste time on this anyway. Yea, I was¬†that¬†stupid. So it slowly faded away into the back of my brain. The neural pathways to it disconnected mometarily. And I existed like that for several years.

But you see¬†there’s something called as¬†epiphany.¬†And when it strikes, you better seize it before it’s gone.

The thing is, all through these years, I’ve never actually stopped reading. And it so happened that I¬†visited the Literature Festival in our city this year. There were a lot of distinguished authors on the panel, including Eleanor Catton (who is the youngest Man Booker prize winner) and also the literary pop stars of India like Chetan Bhagat and Amish Tripathi. And when I heard these people talk about why they write and what it means to them, I was completely bowled over. I suddenly realized what was sorely missing in my life. I knew I had to retrieve that lost habit from the cobwebbed portions of my brain, if I need to add meaning and purpose to my life. And thus began this blog! Even though it’s only been a couple of months here, I’m glad with the way things are proceeding. Baby steps, but each one has taught me something new. I’m still finding my voice, and my foothold. There is a lot of inspiration around, I noticed. I had just been blind to it before.

What would I make of my writing, I dunno. As of¬†now, I just want to write and write more. There’s a satisfaction in doing something you like that you don’t get anywhere else.

Hopefully, all will be well.

Writing 101: Day 14 – One One To Rule Them All

Hi there One,

I hope you’re rocking in your Onederworld!

It’s actually¬†awkward¬†to write this letter to you, seeing how you’ve eluded me at every point. Back in those days, all I wanted was to¬†get by your side but I failed miserably most of the times. Why were you so harsh on me? Was it because I was being too friendly with Two, your cousin? Well I hope you know that I couldn’t help it. Is it my fault that I’m the second born in my family? Is it my fault that I always had secondhand stuff to play with? And are you really blaming me that back in school, I had the biggest crush on the girl who sat in the second row?¬†Or that I consistently always stood second in class?

But you were always the jackpot, weren’t you? I mean, come one, no one really wants to be seen with Two. He’s the next best alternative to you, but it’s too embarrassing to have almost reached you but to finally having to settle¬†for Two. Your other cousin, Three, sees even less fanfare. So I wonder, what makes you so popular? What is it about you that makes people want to bend hell down under to get you? What do you do to them?

Well, I can only talk from my own experience. I dunno if you remember, but we did get to shake hands once in a while. All those rare times I stood first in class or all those times I won the Writing competition. But you were there only briefly. I never really got you¬†know¬†you, like many people do. They say you’re ¬†the best, that they want nothing more than being with you. But you somehow failed to enthrall¬†me. So I guess slowly, you became a long-distance acquaintance¬†who would only meet once in a blue moon. I liked it when you were there but I did not miss you when you were not. You see, your other cousins always kept me company. They actually love having me around. Especially Two. That guy never left me.

So yes, I’m sorry to admit that I don’t really yearn for you anymore. Surprised? Well sometimes I feel it’s actually better not to be seen with you. People talk. Your friends are always in limelight. And maybe it feels good to have that attention, but I’d rather be with Two who does get a fair amount of press but¬†not too overwhelming like yours while also giving me my space. He understands me like no other.

Maybe I’ll never post this letter. I don’t think you have the time to care even. And that’s fine. But you’re always welcome, just in case you did wish to stand by my side one day. I hope Two wouldn’t mind. He needs to take a break too.

Yours Truly

Today’s Prompt: Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration. If you need a boost, Google the word and see what images appear, and then go from there.

Today’s twist: write the post in the form of a letter.

The book I opened was¬†The Book Thief¬†and literally, the first word on the page was ‘One‘ and I thought – I could do something with this!! ūüôā

Writing 101: Day 13 – When Winnie Met Us

Hello, folks! I know this is supposed to be a “serially” post to pick up from where we left off from Day 4. But what I wrote on that day (on losing my faith), left me few options as to how I would continue it in a “found” context. ¬†And anyway, that would be too boring for ya’ll to read. So today I chose to focus on a better thing – of finding love! Don’t worry, this is not a story of my romantic love, it’s something much better – the purest, most unconditional love you’ll find anywhere. It’s our pet dog.

*Drum roll please*

Presenting, the one and only РWINNIE, the diva! 


To start at the beginning, we literally found¬†her. Very cliched, probably, but we did find her on a rainy night – alone straddled next to a garbage can. She was only a couple of weeks old by then, a tiny puppy with a confused face. You would have definitely missed her if she hadn’t been wailing continuously. She’s got black fur on her back so she blended nicely into that starless night.

It was my brother who actually dared to bring her back home, because out parents up until then weren’t very favorable of having pets inside the house. But it really rained pretty hard that day, so even though mum and dad weren’t very happy with it, they let her stay for that night. Me and my siblings were overjoyed to have such a cutie-pie in our hands. (Really, I wish I had photos of when she was younger to show you, but she was simply a ball of cuteness overload). She isn’t even of a fancy pedigree breed, she’s just a street dog (they’re called Indian Native Dogs). But it didn’t matter to us. So anyway, the night passes, the next morning had been nice and sunny and clear. We were still clutching on to her, playing with her, feeding her milk – but mum had already had a disapproving expression on her face. Dad was ambivalent. He didn’t know whose side to take.

To cut the long story short, we did succeed in getting her to stay with us for a couple more days. She¬†was¬†very frail and starved that we couldn’t just let her go. She was pretty scared of us at first, too, and always hid under the bed unless she was being fed. But slowly, a lot of things changed. She took to us, Mum started to like¬†her, Dad started to take her on walks, and each one of us were pretty overwhelmed with the kind of love that was being showered on us. Two days became a week. A week became a month. I had the honors of naming her Winnie, finally (after a string of failed Indian girlie names). Eight years later, she’s still rocking our world every moment!

Winnie is the ultimate mistress of panache, the brand ambassador of oomph. She’s probably not the brightest dog around (still doesn’t know how to fetch!), but is she amazing! We have finally decided that you cannot have a single bad photograph of her.

They see me glancing, they deciphering…

It wasn’t very easy of course. It had been our first time experience with a pet and we were surprised by how much care they actually need. Getting her vaccinated was the worst. Like all little babies, she was terrified of syringes. She loved riding in the car though, with her head held out the window, taking in the wind and barking gleefully at stranger folk, but the moment we approached the veterinary hospital, she used to duck under the car seat (Dogs have a way of sensing these things, I suppose). But you gotta do what you gotta do; we were sorry for her, the way she used to wail when we constricted her forcefully on the hospital bed for getting the vaccination done. She’s still the same, the fear of syringes has never really left her.

When I look back, it feels almost impossible to imagine these past years without Winnie. She became the center of attraction and the topic of discussion almost every single day. She loves when people surround her and hates when people fight in front of her. And inevitably, she brought our family a bit closer together.

Here’s a little photo gallery!

Her favorite vantage point!
Oooh! Whadcha doin!
Winnie in winter!
Just thinking…dog things…
When she finally became a Mother!!

Writing 101: Day 11 – There Is No Place Like Home

Well, talk about being 12!

Seems like a far far time ago¬†even though in reality I’m only double the age now. But it was an exciting time, you know, teenage hormones and all that. And also discovering…a lot of things!¬†But I’m digressing. ūüėõ We have to talk about the house!

Now, you see, my dad works for the Indian Railways. Why is this detail important to my¬†story? Because it is. You see, all the employees of the Railways are given accommodation in¬†something called as the “Railway Quarters”. These are very quaint neighborhoods, with nondescript apartments and narrow roads that are dotted by towering¬†trees and lush foliage that¬†they really evoke a cozy, old-world charm! They are also often present very close to the Railway Station (one of the biggest perks! You never have to rush to catch a train).

So yes, Railway Quarters are where I’ve practically lived all my life. In three different towns, no less!!

Oh you do get transferred a lot if you’re in the Railways. It’s good in a way, you get to see and live in new places. The downside being that there’s a lot of leaving-behind involved. I changed schools thrice, and it was neither easy to say good-bye to old friends nor easy to get accustomed to new people and surroundings. But I guess it was all worth it in the end, as it opened up my¬†senses to new experiences and sights that I would have missed otherwise.

To talk specifically of where we lived when I was 12, it was a four story building with two houses on each floor. Our house number was 5, so we were on the third floor, the door to the right. It wasn’t a huge apartment, just had all the basic rooms but it did have a very distinctive feature! This apartment building was at the very edge of our colony and right behind us was the school where I used to study in! Only separated by a single¬†compound wall, that’s all!

But that’s great, right? NO! The distinctive feature I mentioned above lies in the bathroom. And its¬†big huge window that opened up to a classroom. Scary? You bet.

Now who puts big windows in bathrooms? This design decision is something that has remained a mystery till today! Did they perhaps think that we would enjoy the vista while taking a shower. Seriously? How about, you open the window and your nakedness is in perfect visible distance of a whole room of excited school-children!  LOL, that was one creepy bathroom. Needless to say, the windows remained tightly shut throughout.

They did eventually wall up the window, but only after three years. By which time we were moving to a different place, so it didn’t really matter.

But yea, funny things aside, it was our first house in the big city so it did have a lot of exciting memories attached to it. I had my first computer, read my very first novel¬†(yes, I was a late bloomer), cooked my first dish, had our first pet – all firsts in that very house. The only sad thing is that it doesn’t exist anymore. Last time I went by the place, I found it half demolished to make way for expanding the main road. Sometime being on the edge does really have its cons.

Because everything is better when you add Michael Giacchino and since I was listening to this while writing this piece, I thought why not share the music too! Do give it a go! ūüôā

Writing 101: Day 9 – Love Transcends All

Today’s Prompt: A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view

As me and Mary ambled through the stony path in the park, me trying to hold her hand, and she trying to avoid it РI wished my mind was as blissful as the surroundings. The grass was greener than ever, cherry blossoms bloomed in the neatly lined trees along the path, young couples sauntered through the trees Рhand in hand, old women knitted sweaters seated on the park bench, and little children merrily played next to the pond Рit was the quintessential beautiful day. For everyone except us, that is.

Why couldn’t today have been gloomy?

“I think we need to rethink this,” Mary¬†mumbles. I guess her throat was tired from all the yelling.

I blink my eyes at her. “Rethink this?” I say. “What do you mean?”

She stops walking and looks away. “Don’t you see? This is obviously not working out for us. Two years in, and all we do everyday is fight. I don’t want this to be a struggle, John.”

Her face was stark, for the first time ever I did not sense any emotion in those blue eyes. A small breeze passes us, and a few strands of hair fall on her face covering her up the left eye. I reach out to set it right, like I always do, but she shrugs my hand away and does it herself.

“Are you really-” I begin to say.

“yes I am-”

“-asking for a divorce?”

She nods her head looking at the grass. The elephant in the room was finally out.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to me. Please God, no!

Tears start to well up in my eyes.


I’m sorry, John! I’m so very sorry I am going to have to do this to you. I wish there were a better solution to all this but I don’t see it. My heart aches when I think of all the times I’ve caused you trouble, for all the times I pointed fingers at you, and for all the times I fought with you over nothing. Truth is, I changed, John. Irrevocably. But you stayed the same. You are the same sweet person I fell in love with. And I hate seeing you in pain.

But you are clever, aren’t you?

You realized that I wanted a divorce, even before I say it saving me the agony of spelling it out loud. I love you, John, and that’s why I have to leave you.

“DON’T DO IT!!” comes a shrill voice from behind, startling us. We turn around and find an old woman, with a half knitted sweater in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” I say, confused. “Don’t do what?”

“You both should not get a divorce! Trust me, you will regret it later,” She says, shaking her fingers at me vigorously.

Who the hell is this woman?


I sit at my usual spot in the park. It’s been so many years and yet I still remember that dreadful day very vividly. It happened near this very same cherry tree, the one that’s shorter than the rest. The one I broke down under after John left me in disbelief.

And then lo, here they come!! John and myself. It’s surreal indeed, looking at a walking-talking younger version of yourself. My mind flashes back to that day, no TODAY! I’m here now in the past! Today is going to change mine and John’s life forever! It’s going to happen anytime now. They’ve already stopped walking. Quick, do what you came here to do!!

I storm towards them and even before completely getting close, I yell out, “DON’T DO IT!!”

“I’m sorry, don’t do what?” Mary says with a bewildered expression.

“You both should not get a divorce! Trust me, you will regret it later,” I say firmly. John still had tears in his eyes and was just noticing me. Oh, sweet, sweet John.

“Ummm, that’s really between me and my husband, but thanks. Shall I help you to your bench?” Mary offers. How very typical of me!

“No! You don’t understand. IT’S ME!!”

“I’m sorry, old lady,” John cuts in. “Could you please leave us alone?”

IT’S ME!!” I say again. Looking at the expression on their face, they still haven’t figured out. Ah, who was I kidding!

“I AM YOU!” I say to Mary finally. “I’m coming from the future!

She gives out a shrill laugh. Of course she is not going to believe, but I have to say what I wanted to say. My two hours are almost up.

“OK, please listen you both,” I press on. “Mary, I know what’s going on in your mind right now. You might think that you are doing John a big favor but you are not! Trust me, I’ve seen him crumble and destroy himself through the years. He never remarries and dies alone.” John widened his eyes, but I had to say the truth. “And you Mary, are never going to find a man like him again. I have blamed myself for this very day all my life.”

Mary was shaking her head in disbelief. And then she comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder, caressing my face with her other hand.

You really are me!! But how?? How is this even possible? How old are you now-

I check my watch. My time’s up. “I’ll vanish any moment now, but promise me! Promise me that you two will stay together!!” But I don’t get to hear their reply. My two hours are up and I whoosh back to 2064 again.

As I enter my bedroom, I find John snoring peacefully on the bed. Shriveled, but very much my John! I DID IT!!

Writing 101: Day 8 – Rain Me Over

It had rained here today. Pre-summer showers, these are called apparently. If you’ve ever been stuck in temperatures upwards of thirty degrees Celsius, you’d know how heavenly it feels when heavens pour out for you. What a wonderful sight it is, to wake up to an overcast sky with a light drizzle in the air. Trust me, live anywhere near the Equator and you’ll despise the Sun with all your heart. Sorry, Sun, nothing personal. you’re just too hot for my taste.

I wake up, giving my bed a wistful look. I so wanted to go back to sleep again. Don’t we all love these days, when there’s laziness in the air and your slippery dreams are beckoning you. Don’t you feel like curling up in your bed, without a care in the world. Unfortunately, though, duty calls!

If this were school, today would have been declared a holiday! The ever-wonderful Rain Holiday. Because, man, was that a downpour! Standing in my sixth floor balcony, no matter which direction I looked at, all I saw was the thick hazy cover brought by rain. So then the dilemma starts again, how would I even make it to work today? Or maybe I should just call in sick! Too obvious? Well people do fall sick when it rains!

Bu the sad story is, I was dragging myself to work with an umbrella in hand an hour later. It still hadn’t stopped raining but I dared as I was already running late. I put on my sandals since I didn’t want my precious shoes ruined. Not my precious¬†Woodland shoes. And not to drum up my country’s problems but roads here are something of a story. When it rains, most of the city turns into a mini Venice! It almost feels like you’d do better with a rowing boat than a car. Imagine my plight then, waiting for a public bus at the bus stop, almost drenched, despite of the umbrella.

When I at last¬†did get the bus, it was a dingy ordinary bus with a leaky top that didn’t let me read my book. I almost had an urge to open up my umbrella inside the bus! But the bus was crammed with people, tightly pressed against each other. It was a wet mess.

I did reach office safe and sound around noon. Only to find out that I was the second person to arrive from my team.

Today’s prompt had been to visit a local place and write a descriptive piece on it. Twist was to cut down¬†as many adverbs as possible. I’m not really sure what I did here ūüôā As I obviously can’t go anywhere apart from office on weekdays, this turned into more of a mood piece than a descriptive one I suppose. I did cut down on the adverbs where ever I could, though I’m not sure if I actually put myself in a situation to have more adverbs.