Our blogs morph over time, as interests shift and life happens. Write a post for your blog — but three years in the future.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us LIFE.
I wonder if I’ll be alive three years from now. . .and if I am, I wonder where I will be and what I will be doing. . .
But it is very likely that I might right about this time, as my wedding date has been decided to be less than a month away. Still I have no knowledge of the unseen future and can’t predict what I’ll say about this day.
Isn’t that the fun of life? You never know what’s gonna happen next or how your life might change in a moment.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Ebb and Flow
Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph:
“He tried to hit me with a forklift!”
Photographers, artists, poets: show us a NON SEQUITUR.
So, I have been watching Baby One More Time (like again and again and again). I thought it reminded me of school. I scrolled down to see comments and found that I wasn’t the only person to think so.
The song reminds me of a simpler time. Now I hope that I’m a better person now than I was then, so I should be thankful for my painful experiences but fact remains that it was a simpler time and so, I kind of cherish the memory of those times.I remember being hyper. I remember thinking ridiculous, acting ridiculous and being ridiculous, but then again it was the same with everybody. I remember never completing my homework (you see, even as a kid I knew better than to care about trivial things like homework). I remember how every morning I felt so good. I remember how bad I was at sports. I remember participating in a race, and being so tired and so far behind the others, that I simply moved out of the tracks in search of better things to do than running at a fast pace towards nothing at all. I remember being bad at all kinds of things that required. . . . . . .presence of mind. I couldn’t even ride a merry-go-round. The few times, I tried, I fell off it, moving in a path tangential to my position on the circle
described that would have been described by me, had I continued to be on the merry-go-round. Later, in physics class, I got to know about the centripetal force, that my instincts didn’t tell me about. I remember how heroic I felt the first time I swung on a swing without falling. I remember how peaceful I felt while I was there. Maybe it was the place, maybe it was the people childhood. Then I was knocked back into the real world by the forklift of trials.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Non Sequitur
What’s the most dreadful (or wonderful) experience you’ve ever had as a customer?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us SERVICE.
What do I say to that? I’ve never actually been a customer. More like a sidekick to ‘lead’ customers. The reason for that is: I have never had a job, nor am I the spoilt kid that gets wads of cash or better still a credit/debit card to go buy pumps and handbags and other trash (and I don’t plan to give it to my kids either ’cause I so disapprove of stupid little hoity-toity kids who have nothing better to do other than spending their parents’ money on garbage).
Last time I bought something completely on my own, it was at a snack shop, so that really doesn’t count. Actually all the shopping I have ever done on my own has been at groceries and such. What I do know from my shopping experiences is that I’m not a smart shopper. In fact, I might be the delight of shopkeepers- that’s how stupid I get once I get inside a shop. Even when I was a kid, I would forget taking back the balance from the shopkeeper. Nowadays, I forget taking what I have bought or sometimes I leave my stuff at the shop. So, I am kind of scared of shopping alone. That’s why I neither wear jewellery nor do I visit jewellery shops. I wouldn’t want to leave my jewellery at some grocery, or forget the jewellery I paid for, at the store. It could be worse with cars. What if I leave my car parked in the market and take a bus? Or what if I paid for a Porsche and forgot to take it with me.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Are you being served?
Are you comfortable in front of people, or does the idea of public speaking make you want to hide in the bathroom? Why?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us PUBLIC.
Comfortable in public? I suppose I should be.
Although, who is to say for sure, since I haven’t spoken in public since I delivered a speech in seventh grade. Good old days they were. Sadly or otherwise, things were never the same, after we visited our ancestral home that summer. Everything went south, except for my understanding of the world and my faith.
So, returning to the topic of my last speech, I remember that I mechanically regurgitated the speech had prepared. I remember being really embarrassed about something really trivial that happened some days ago and consequently, I didn’t even look anyone in the eye during the speech. Still, I’m pretty sure I’m not afraid of public speaking: at least not enough to want to hide in the bathroom. So, I am pretty sure that a fraction of the population must be sniggering and giving each other meaningful glances and that population would surely include my , but that wouldn’t stop me. In fact, that kind of thing is more likely to inflame me into giving a more passionate speech. Yeah, it’s all those years of pent-up feelings, waiting to become words hurled at eardrums.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Naked with Black Socks
Grab the nearest book. Open it and go to the tenth word. Do a Google Image Search of the word. Write about what the image brings to mind.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOOKS.
I grabbed “Chicken” by Jeni Wright and turned to the first page. The tenth word was ‘and’. I did a Google Image Search of the word and a gallery of pornographic images appeared on the screen. On a closer look, I realise that there is a picture of a gay couple kissing.
So, what the HELL do these pictures bring to my mind? For starters, they brought the idea that maybe I should try another book or another page till I get a word that provides decent search results. But then I thought that it was only fair that I follow the prompt’s instructions to a T. So here I am writing about the wonderful experience I had right after morning prayer.
Next, it occurred to me that nudity has become the order of the day so much so that some countries have started banning women from veiling their faces. The British PM, on the contrary was trying to control access to pornographic content on the Internet. Wonder what that’s about, though that would mean that I’d no longer have to be shocked by what awaits you as you Google innocuous words.
Next, I thought of the Saudi princes and their famed love for everything pornographic. Their came to my mind, the image of a prince throwing money on some dancing-girl. SMH.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Bookworms
What was your favorite plaything as a child? Do you see any connection between your life now, and your favorite childhood toy?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us MEMENTO.
I really need to thank Daily Prompt for bringing back memories of the good old days.
Some twenty years ago, the toys in the picture could have easily distracted me from all worries and getting to play it would be accomplishment enough for me. I would have pretended to cut the fish on the chopping board, and would have offered the cupcakes to my peers around. Yeah, I used to love playing with kitchen toys.
I remember spending my summer holidays cooking and serving plastic food. When there weren’t any toys, as on a visit to a relative, we’d make stuff out of paper. Away from the idiot box, we’d spend the afternoons playing kitchen.
The connection between my life now and my favorite toys? My cooking skills are inversely proportional to my liking for this game, at least for now. So, how did that happen? My love for this game was looked down on, by all people around me. Should I thank feminism and its effects on the minds of little girls? The other girls preferred dressing up their dolls. I was too scared of dolls to try that. Thus, in the process of growing up, I drifted, away from all kinds of things related to housekeeping, and towards academic pursuits. Some years ago, my love for the kitchen was revived by watching all those cooking shows on the television. I haven’t gained much practical experience in the cooking department yet, having been busy with other things. I hope that changes in the near future.
In response to: Daily Prompt: Toy Story
Tell us about the last thing you got excited about — butterflies-in-the-stomach, giggling, can’t-wait excited.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us EXCITEMENT.
It was long long ago. . . before I hit puberty. So, it was too stupid to be written about in a blog (trust me).
And shortly after, I hit puberty, after which there was no dearth of serious stuff in my life. Adios, excitement.
I’m gonna get married soon and I’m not really excited. . .that’s how bad it is. After the wedding, I might relocate to somewhere I’ve always wanted to go to, but nope, I’m not excited.
So, I guess, the excitement does end.
In response to: Daily Prompt: The Excitement Never Ends