Moments & Memories

Personal picture

Memories nudge me

To lazy afternoons

When I was immature

And Playful
Dancing on stage

Camping in the Sun
Rolling on grass
Was so much fun

Hiding in the Moonlight
Learning to fly a kite 

Avoiding Homework

Friends by my side

Bouncing on my bed

Jumping over barbed wire

Stories before bed time

Picnic by garden fire

Love was yet to happen

Dreams were still true

Childhood memories

Take me back with you

             ~

Note: This picture is special because it takes me back to my
childhood: when life was carefree and I was careless.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

I am not an Alien

After a few intense posts, here is a fun post dedicated to all my friends and readers.

Source google

Do I look like an Alien? Or a robot perhaps? I have been daunted with request to prove otherwise in the cyber world. To all those who have captcha code on, let me ask a simple question. Please tell me how many of you been badgered with comments from the outer world?

I am forced to go through captcha code time and again. I am your obedient blogger. You will not find me complaining often. But, I would like to appeal all my co friends who have captcha code on their blogs to please remove it. One such friend was not even aware that she had a captcha code on her space until someone told her. So here is me begging you to please check if you have a captcha code. If yes, please get rid of it now.

Please, do not make me go through complicated and meaningless words to leave a feed back on your blog. My eye sight is not as good as before and I make multiple mistakes in retyping the prompt. Almost always, I end up disheartened and disgusted with myself.

Some ask me to prove that I am not a spammer by clicking on a box. To me, that is okay to some degree. Comment moderation is fine too. I mean, it works for me to a great extent. However, imagine when you come across a captcha code followed by a comment moderation. I mean, how careful can you be? LOL

Dear friends and fellow blogger, this post is written in jest, I do not mean to offend anyone. Please, bear with me. I am cranky today. Have a nice weekend~

Find out more about captcha code here~

Final Good Bye~

She looked like a skeleton

With loose skin on her bones

Her eyes were transparent

Her feelings were unknown

She wore a bright turban

Her hair was mostly gone

She looked much older

Than her forty two years

And seemed unaware

Of people and their despair

Lying on a bed

Blanched and drained
Pale as a white rose

Weathered and wasted

Life had taken a turn

Landing her in a storm

Alien and alienated

She forgot where she’s from…

Her family had gathered

For a final goodbye

Questions on their mind

‘Whats’ and ‘whys’

Her laughter broke the silence

When she thanked one and all

Her strength had given up

Her spirits hung on_

Note: Dedicated to every single cancer patient out there fighting for life.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Professional Touch~

Blogger:

She doesn't complain when her husband calls to inform that he’s going to the club to watch a cricket match. She tucks their kids in bed and offers a glass of water to her mother-in-law before saying good night. Voila, her world opens up as she switches on her laptop for blogging. Sleep be damned.

Doctor:

Her nursing home is no less than a temple both for the rich and the sick people. Smallest of ailment is taken care of without a frown of impatience. The fear of cancer is replaced by a stitch here and a trick there. Her Godliness is as good as the patient’s fancy health insurance policy.

Air hostess:

She travels the world and the world travels with her. As a high flying air hostess, she brushes her teeth in a different five star every week. Tall, slim and full of life, she serves everyone with a smile. The world is her platter. However, she vomits what she eats. Bulimia is what does her.





Nurse:

She walks-in in the morning with a smile. She stays back at night when it is essential. She performs like a mother and assists like a sister. She is a nurse and her job is quite Nobel except when an errant patient touches her inappropriately. Fear of losing job does not allow her to complain. 

Hooker:

From painted face to airbrushed profile pictures, from local tailors to designer brands, from shady by lanes to face book walls, from bargaining on the streets to on line money transfer and from a few local customer to International client servicing, she has definitely come a long way with her Personal Computer as her pimp.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


Note: Five 55 words micro fiction on popular and controversial female professions that I see around or read about.
Disclaimer: All images from Google.