VJ’s Weekly Challenge #108: taste
Tag Archives: mother
Cees Black White Photo Challenge: Letters M and N
Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Letters M or N
Mother and daughter
Mesmerizing
Night at sea beach
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #25
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #25
Longing
What do I long for?
Love? Friendship? Company of people? Peace?
Sometimes I feel very lonely
And the more lonely I feel
the more lonely I want to be
I don’t want to talk to anyone
Don’t want to mix with people
I just want to dwell in my gloominess,
Submerge in my sorrows
No materialistic pleasure can calm me
Can give me peace
So what is it I want?
Who can understand?
How I’m feeling
What I’m feeling
What I’m longing for
Perhaps
I yearn
for that great comfort, calmness, peace, delight
I felt when I was in my mother’s lap
Color of Beauty
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #79
Words: Color, Chroma, Pigment, Hue, Stain, Tinge
What is the color of beauty?
I don’t remember seeing the mother in any other saree than white, no hues of any color.
Even after doing all household work by herself how she kept it so white always puzzled me.
She Finished her cooking without a stain of turmeric or red chilly or from any spice or fruits or vegetables.
After the bath, she used to wear sarees with a colored border red or, green or blue, or whatever with a matching blouse. She used red sindoor as big bindi between her eyebrows, would put a little black homemade Kajal in her eyes and lo! The most beautiful woman in the world was ready to compete in any beauty contest.
Well, it was and is my opinion though she thought herself ugly in comparison to my father who was fairer than she who was a few shades darker than him.
Alas! She never looked herself through my eyes.
Does color matter to define beauty?
Whatever shade of color you are you only need love, grace, and compassion to look beautiful.
Motherhood is chroma of Beauty.
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 61
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 61
In the immensity of consciousness, a light appears — a tiny point which moves rapidly and traces shapes, thoughts, and feelings, like a pen writing on paper. And the ink which leaves a trace is the memory. You are that tiny point and by your movement, the world is ever re-created.
Sri Nisargadatta, I Am That
Alas!
It eludes me
the immensity of consciousness
again and again
could have
lead me
to a higher plane
Alas!
I am
where I was
when I was born
yearning for my mother’s embrace
now at the end of my journey
yearning for my mother’s embrace
my existence
in between
is a cipher
#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 100 – Celebrations & Century
#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 100 – Celebrations & Century
Thanks, Elsie for your wonderful challenges which gave me something to think and made me try other types of poetry. I will miss these challenges.
Mother’s century
Though we could not celebrate
As she passed away
Three years before completing
Seeing her pain and discomfort
I prayed for her departure
Whom we love can’t see them in pain
( This is not a Tanka but had to add the last line)
Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge – Week 75 – Shining & Winter
Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge – Week 75 – Shining & Winter
Winter awakens
Which weren’t asleep anyway
Shining memories
Of sitting around fire-pot
Of mother telling stories
RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #168 Sweet&Scent
RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #168 Sweet&Scent
Mother’s body scent
Sets her apart from other
Sweet remembrance
Scars
Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochellewisofffields
PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey
Fiction
100 words
Scars
Ruby has to cross the lonely footbridge daily on her way to school. She goes and returns with friends, and still, mother never forgets to remind her strictly to never pass the bridge alone. Though their colony is very safe, security guards are posted everywhere.
Ruby wonders why her mother is so scared. She asks her mother.
Mother looks into her eyes. She is so young and innocent; she will not understand it now.
Once, her mother made the mistake of crossing a footbridge all alone when she was young.
Mother still shivers.
Time heals all wounds but some scars never fade away.
The Daily Post- Sentimental
DAILY PROMPT– Sentimental
I’m not sentimental about things or places. We had to move to many places, leave so many things behind when my husband was in a job that I stopped feeling any attachment with any place or thing, but when I saw my mother’s swing, after her demise, in my brother’s house, lying in a corner , all alone, as if waiting for waiting for my mother’s touch not knowing she will never come back. With tears in my eyes I caressed it, I tried to comforted it assuming it’s listening to me. (I wanted to bring it back with me, I had gifted it to my mother, but couldn’t ask my brother to give it back to me). I felt my mother’s presence there. I was relieved. It was not lonely. It has lots of memories to live with.
Mother’s swing
Sharing Thoughts 