Monday 27 December 2021



From Unsplash

The red’s a little tired, the green’s somewhat faded

the heart is still staunch though its palate is jaded

the eyes still seek the stars and the gifts the magi bring -

this broken day, my father, still feels like your blessing.


The gold’s gone a bit dull and the silver’s tarnished

and the truth’s hard to take when it’s left unvarnished.

But the mind still cups its ears to hear the north winds sing -

the seasons that split me open still feel like your blessing.


I read that the sky’s filthy and the earth is soiled

the land’s overcrowded, the rivers are hardboiled.

I stand at the threshold of your dusty dwelling

and the dancing motes morph to your hands raised in blessing.


Know that wherever you are, you’re the gift, and the kings,

each and every festival. And worship. Everything.

Wishing all who stop by here peace and joy and good health. And a tranquil New Year 2022.

Monday 13 December 2021

Write... Edit... Publish... December 2021 : Narcissus


Hi, folks! I have been a stranger to my own blog for the past few weeks :)  Life offline has been super but super busy too -  niece got married last month, big fat Indian wedding - lipstick on my party masks and all that, anyway that was pencilled in long back in the planner.  But also there was a sudden breakthrough in the matter of the parental property, did that consume a whole heap of time or what? Upshot - stranger to blogging! - life can spring pleasant surprises and rev up even during a miserable pandemic with never ending variants. 

Anyway, here I am for the last 2021 gathering of the WEP clan. With another retelling - this last a Greek classic. 

Let me also take this chance to wish you  peace and joy and a merry Christmas if you're celebrating. To your good health and the world's for the remainder of 2021 and to better times all around in 2022. Check out the Challenges 2022 page for even more luscious prompts in the New Year. Keep fit and keep writing. See you there!


I and the public know,

What all schoolchildren learn,

To those whom evil is done,

Do evil in return. 

~ W.H. Auden

Once upon a time and place far away – but close enough still to rattle, so don't get too comfortable  – once upon such a time and place, an unclaimed child grew up in the blind lanes of human indifference. Like a weed he took root in the cracks in the paving stones of ruthlessness and grew on a staple diet of mockery and offhand cruelty – daily kicks and cuffs and brushoffs. He was soon adopted by a petty vendor on the lookout for free labour in exchange for the meagrest of keep.