G for gymming #AtoZChallenge

source: VectorStock

For the fourth time, my dad called out for breakfast. In my dreams, I had woken up and walked about three times already. But when my eyelids were finally torn open, I felt like my legs were nailed to the bed.

F for Failure #AtoZChallenge

source: dreamstime

Their faces were pleasant and smiling. But somehow, they intimidated me. I sat restlessly rubbing my fingers against each other, waiting for them to finish reading my resume. It was my first placement interview and I was brimming with worry. Waiting patiently for them to begin, I watched as they made notes from that sheet of paper that defined me professionally.

E for Extempore #AtoZChallenge

source: yawd

I turned my back to them and hurriedly packed my bag. If I could escape their notice and just reach till the school bus, then I wouldn't have to do it. They should get someone else to do it anyway. There were so many others after all. Now, if only they weren't gon-

D for Decisions #AtoZChallenge

source: clipartkey.com

We carry it with us from the moment our brains develop to think on their own. The burden of taking decisions. As for me, I've conveniently passed on the burden to another since a little child. Of course, one wouldn't always call it a burden. But a task it was. From the flavour of my ice-cream to the channel to watch on TV, I'd always followed my elder sister's lead. It took quite some time for me to realize that I liked tea over coffee, unlike her. It took even more time for me to choose dresses of my own liking.

C for Connections #AtoZChallenge

source: jing.fm

"And then, as silence swarmed,
I listened to all else.
A whisper, I could hear..
A whisper, soft and dear..."

I was reciting my poem out loud. Their interest in it seemed very convincing, but also very unlikely. I mean, even I wouldn't respond to it that way. Not to demean myself, but I knew my place as a novice and this piece did not deserve the praise it was being given. I was at my first open mic event. A couple of friends had come with me, but we were made to sit apart. Here, we were meant to socialize. Meet new people, make connections. And so we did. I believed that this day was the beginning of something very special. I wanted it to be.

B for Books #AtoZChallenge

source: pinterest

Head of the Literary club in school and a favourite of the English professor. Definitely eligible to be labelled a bookworm. Hell, she'd read all of the Harry Potter books and urged everyone around her to do the same too. She had this circle of reader friends who always had a bunch of books being passed around. This was, of course, before the plus two boards weighed down on the poor souls and killed their leisure time. Good old days.

A for Awkwardness #AtoZChallenge

source: pngitem

It was a normal and pleasant Thursday evening. The three of us were happily munching over a plate of french fries powdered with chaat masala. A casual conversation floated in this comfortable small circle. It was all good until one of their phones rang. The comfort level in me felt a slight dip. My fears rang true when he got up and said the dreaded words -

"I'll be right back."

An Ode to Myself #AtoZChallenge

source: freepik.com

We sat in two long rows, getting drenched in the humid auditorium decorated with pointless air-conditioners. Each of us was given a blank sheet of paper. You see, our professor liked to do something new every meeting. This time, the mission was to 'find ourselves'. Like always, we spent the first couple of minutes exchanging clueless glances and wishing we had skipped the meeting and attended the morning assembly instead.

"This is something each one of us needs to reflect on." he began, slowly pacing what little space was left before our seats. "Now, you may not complete this assignment in these twenty minutes of time. But I insist that you do complete it when you can." We listened keenly, although internally relieved for already having an extended deadline. It was so much easier to just listen to him speak.

"To know your own strengths and weaknesses is important. Not merely for the interview questions, but for yourselves." His eyes then scanned the front row and I sensed an impending question. They conveniently rested on me before he asked it. "Why don't you tell us one of your strengths, Dashy?" And to my surprise, I responded almost immediately.

The Last Pluviophiles

Source: Pinterest

She hated it. She hated how capricious it was, how it came all too sudden without even a hint of how long it was planning to stay. She hated how it ruined her plans every time. She hated how it made her clothes take longer to dry up, or how it forced her to carry a bag around just for an umbrella.
She hated the rains.

In the name of happiness

Dear happiness,

Back when we were kids, we didn't think much about you. You were around most of the time, so we took you for granted. It was during teenage that you started playing peekaboo. We were only beginning to meet your counterparts. The blood-boiling rage, the envy, the clouds of frustration, the yearning, and the blend of it all that we couldn't put a name to. We did manage to hunt you down in the midst of the mess. It was still possible. But now I'm twenty-one, and you've conveniently settled in a land I am unable to step on.

More than just a Mom

Source: yadi.sk

The five textbooks stacked up on my desk sat waiting. Waiting for me to find the motivation to open at least one. I would've done it after all, if mom hadn't called for lunch that very moment. And I knew better than to ignore mom's call.

Seated at the dining table, the guilt wouldn't leave me. So with each handful of rice and fish curry, I built on the study schedule to be followed in my mind. The silence over lunch went unnoticed until my mom broke it.

Our Bundle of Joy

Source: Pinterest

An hour past midnight.
The corridor silent yet lit up
With the rush of late night assignments.

She slept while I worked,
Eyes half-open, drinking in the light
In spite of the slumber.
Or so I believed.

What it Means to be Free

Source: bigstockphoto

"But we don't need to listen to others. Only you girls need to."

He joked when I asked him to get up. Except that it wasn't really a joke.

.

.

Dear old patriarchy,

You've probably existed since the beginning of time.

You've helped countless men to reach great heights.

You've tricked the world into keeping you close

Rather than keeping up with these 'equal rights'.

That Time of the Year

Half past eleven on the 31st of December.

Raving crowds and coloured lights are all that they'd remember. 

I stopped making new year resolutions two years ago. Not because I stopped believing in them. But because I was still working on my older ones. The ultimate 'life- plan' was still underway, time management for me was still a bummer, and I hadn't yet sorted out my priorities quite well.

It'd been a while since I'd spoken to the diary. Every year the first pages spoke highly of my resolve. The two years saw no new diary and with it no new resolutions. In the last half hour of the year, I still found no reason to make one.

There in the midnight chill and the lights flashing in rhythm, I sat apart from the crowd. But not alone. 

When Your Plans Don't Work Out

Source: istockphoto

"What do you really want to do in life?"

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t an uncommon question, especially to a teenager who is in the most confused phase of her life. Here it was again, on a normal afternoon and in the middle of a casual conversation; the dreaded question. You think of dodging it by simply giving away an answer, but to some of them, it’s never enough.

 "I told you. I want to be a writer."

"That's not what I meant." He continued, "Say, what are you going to write about? What are you going to do with your writing? What is it that you want to do with your life before you die?"

Choices

Source: worlartsme

"Are you sure?" He asked the six-year-old. Here it was again, the crossroad of choices. The tiny mind was plagued with the fear of picking the wrong choice. She looked up at her mom desperately for hints, as if answering this question depended on life itself.

To her relief, mom nodded encouragingly. It was one of those lucky times when there was someone else by her side to give the green signal. Having gotten the approval, she turned to the salesman holding up the cute pink dress from across the counter. "Yes I'm sure." she chirped confidently.

Blank.

source: pixers.it

An eery silence is floating in the exam hall. There's the mild ruffle of answer sheets and the sound of scratching pens cutting the quiet in the room. My gel pen slips through my sweaty fingers, landing noisily on the floor. It takes forever for me to retrieve it from beneath the bench.

It's not over yet. I still have enough time to finish, right? Right?!

"Five minutes." the invigilator cries. Panic wells up inside me. I read the last question. I know this. That complicated concept I'd learned so well. I can do this.

Some Things Dreamy

Source: Shutterstock

A laptop, earphones, books, and pens. Strewn across the bed were these and a nineteen-year-old mess dozing over them. A typical day during college. My roommate is typing away frantically in her phone as if she were fixing third world problems. It's past midnight, so she decides to take a break and clean up my bed for me (what did I do to deserve her!).

Partly awake, this nineteen-year-old mess gets up to help as well. I'm only five minutes away from flopping back into a sound sleep when the phone rings. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Dashy?"

Deep male voice. Aww man, was there some urgent club work at this hour?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So I was just going through your blog and wanted to tell you that I really like it."

Silence. Wait, what?

The Dark Place

The rhythmic beats of the autorickshaw cut through the noisy wind. He stood at the door watching the brown leaves litter the tiled courtyard. I sat at the settee watching his smooth silver hair fluttering in the breeze.

He was exceptionally quiet this day. His wrist-watch wore a green strap, the same one he had worn earlier to the city. Strange. He was the kind who'd change watches the way we changed clothes - one for the weddings/parties, one for the casual outings, one for home wear, one for the nights, and so on. What was stranger was how his otherwise packed schedule seemed to include ample time for mulling and staring aimlessly at the courtyard.

Diffidence

Source: Skolsida

Dear diffidence,

Why won't you let go?

You put my efforts in vain,

Pull me down to the floor,

You drive me insane

Shutting every other door.

You put to death my ideas,

My beliefs and my dreams.

You befriend my fears,

My inhibitions, my shame.

The Double Surprise

August 7, 2017
11:55 pm

Five minutes to midnight. No whispers or murmurs outside the door. My roommate is staring at her laptop screen, disregarding my presence. So they weren't gonna burst into my room with a cake? I scroll through whatsapp idly, trying to act cool although my mind is racing through all the possibilities of what may or may not happen.

The Monster

Source: webolutions.com

Rage has failed me.

Hope has left hold.

No place to run away to,

No person to be told.

You leave us but one choice

To carry fear in our minds.

To fear the daylight and the dark,

The empty streets and the crowds,

Every gaze and every footstep,

Every solitary walk.

Your Sunshine

Source: wallpaper.com

Poof!
She'd stepped back into her room. There it was, the constant reminder of all the things undone.

The world to her was a buzzing workhouse of intimidating prodigies, wherein she sat watching her confidence slowly ebb away. The seconds on the clock ticked away in mockery of the increasing amount of time she idled by. Obligations and responsibilities came thrashing down her back one after the other, boring a hole right into the ground she so firmly held on to until now, burying herself deep into a pit she believed to never be able to escape from.

So what's your passion?

Source: Palomar

We're searching, searching. Every single nook, turning every single stone. It's not too bad, for we have company. There's like a zillion people searching with us. Every single nook, turning every single stone.

Tick tock tick tock.

A few of them have found theirs. We rejoice and pat their backs. Good for them, them lucky chaps. But it's not too bad. We’re not alone. There are plenty others still searching. High and low. Every single nook, turning every single stone.

Tick tock tick tock.                                                                                                                   

Kindred Spirits

Source: Shutterstock

"I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as ever I saw him."
"You're both queer enough, if that's what you mean by kindred spirits." said Marilla with a sniff.


The twelve year old put down Anne of Green Gables for an occasional brooding.


Kindred spirits. Perfect! It was simply perfect. Ahh bless the soul who coined that term. 'Best friend' sounded so low key, don't you think? You get a few good clicks together with someone and bam you're #BffsForLife. According to the statuses in social networking sites that is. Calling you my best friend simply wouldn't suffice. At all. I thought there wasn't any other choice. Until of course I read Anne of Green Gables and discovered this something that perfectly described what you were to me.


So the next day at school I rush over to you with my new found knowledge, grinning so wide you'd think I'd won the lottery. And you grinned back for absolutely no reason before I said it -

"You are Beautiful"

Source: feminismindia

"You look beautiful."

My brow is raised before the mirror.

Beautiful, did you call this error?

I see an oversized belly way out of norms

I see a brown clingy top showing off my fat arms

I see a flattened tiny face

struggling to fit in facial features.

I see a lump of gathered mess

struggling to achieve finesse.

And before this muddle of disarray

Is a beaming mom come out to say -

"You look beautiful honey."

And I smile. How funny.

A shake of head and a shrug. Moms, you see.

The Making of an Ambition

www.shutterstock.com

The seven year old pursed her lips, eyebrows creased in deep thought. An Apsara pencil was held tight in her right hand. Craning her little neck, she tried to peek into her partner's notebook but found nothing useful. So once again she returned to her train of thought, tapping the freshly sharpened pencil on her chin. Their class teacher was moving from bench to bench, planting smiles in each of their faces.

Something stirred in her mind. "Teacher!", the little one thought suddenly, "I want to become a teacher!" Tightening her grip on the pencil, she neatly filled in the space in her notebook under the column titled 'My ambition'.

I am India's Daughter

Parivartravels

A cozy bed, newspaper ahead, and a nice cup of tea.
A perfect morning it was to be.
Flipping through pages of the paper and this photo is chanced upon.
This merry photo of little boys playing football in the beach.
Just another photograph of kids relishing the summer heat.
Just another game for the boys in the beach.
And yet this photo held something more; something that tingled my nerves.
This harmless picture rekindling the rebel soul itching to break out.
A gush of impulse springing from the shackled freedom within.

Tea or Coffee

Media.salon.com

“Tea or coffee?”

I turned to my sister out of habit. Any question directed at me was to be answered by her. I was the little one in the family who didn’t know the good from bad, or the better from good. But she always knew what to do.

The Vagabond

Source: Viewspaper

The engine roared to a start. The passengers were shuffling in their seats.

" I heard the roads are bumpy. " mumbled one to the other.

"Aye." came the reply, " Plenty o' curves 'n' heights. Best be prepared eh?" he said,
popping his pill. His neighbor rummaged through his bag for mufflers. The biting wind shouldn't get the better of him now should it?

From Fresher to Sophomore

Bit by bit we Hack your wit ;)

Number 311, the board read. A mess of a room sprawled with clothes aplenty. There were just so many of them! You think you’ve packed them all and the trolley bag’s zipped up and done with, only to find more of them lying about hidden under the bed, on the window grills or even in between the bundle of books. And then you would start all over again.

But then calling our room a mess would do injustice to the rooms of archi(tect) students; home to unwashed vessels of noodles and poster paints alike, and un-bathed artists sprawled on the floor with models/charts stacked on their beds (do forgive me for this reveal). While the most that our room had were piles of cloth. And lots of fallen hair.

The Race

 Source: brothersoft

Faster! Faster! the voices screamed. His lungs were ready to burst, his head throbbed as if a hammer was breaking through from within. Every inch of his body ached, yet he kept running. Faster! They bellowed still. He knew he couldn't go any faster than that. Or maybe he could, but he just didn't want to. What was the point after all? he thought. To trudge his way till the end where he'd win some badge like everybody else, a badge he didn't even want...

His train of thought was cut short by another who'd just overtaken him in the tracks. It was no more surprising to find people casually jog past him while he struggled to drag himself forward. You're not trying enough! the voices screamed into his ears again. There's still time. Work harder! He clenched his teeth as he tried to ignore his aching muscles, mustering the mettle despite the hurt. Not until yet another one had crossed him with ease did he notice that he had hardly been moving ahead. His efforts had been in vain. I can't. he spluttered, staggering to a halt.

On Being a Dreamer

Source : Things I learned from

"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one. " - John Lennon

So I'm watching another Kenny Sebastian's video when the messenger's notification tone rings. "Hey Dashy - it's been a while. What's new?" read the message from Corinne, the one blogger because of whom this blog is what it is today. It dawns on me then that I'd been neglecting Wandering Wows for almost four months now.

Of course there were the pangs of guilt that sprang up every now and then, for calling myself a writer but not writing much. But then the mind gets so creative when it comes to finding excuses. A short writing break? Call it writer's block. The break getting longer? Busy schedule! Getting longer still? Let's look for other places where I've written something and say...see? I've been working elsewhere.