Life (as she knows it)

Life (as she knows it)


What is life but a series of curveballs,
Of deaths which come unannounced,
Of heartaches and tear stained pillows,
Of forevers which end in the now.
Of betrayal by those whom you’d offer,
Your head on the pedestal for;
Of regrets and could haves, all the chances
For which a second, might not arrive.

She believed she had mastered life’s pattern,
All the crannies and nooks on its vast…
But the life that she knew was one sided,
Woven up and knitted out in pain…
She had seen loss one after another,
There was only so much she could take,
‘Fore the unbroken diamond she once was,
Lost its shine, by walling up pain.

If you see her she still is unbroken,
But her shine is never the same.

Side note: There has been a death in the family as a few of my blogging friends know. And that’s the reason for my absence from the blogging world for this month of may. Will get back to your comments and posts as soon as things settle down. 

Flash Fiction: Death’s Edge

Flash Fiction: Death’s Edge


Death’s edge was as gruesome as its name. The air smelled like a mixture of burnt wood and rotten meat, the atmosphere had a constant haze around it and the trees had several twisted branches which mimicked wrinkled hands pulling at a person especially with the forest’s limited lighting.

This was the reason D.S Fenworthy was sceptical about being sent to pick up his boss and partner D.I Lucy who happened to be at death’s edge. Lucky enough, he found D.I Lucy standing at the side of the road, casually dressed in baggy pants and a hoodie, her black scarf on her head and a bag slung over her shoulder. D.S Fenworthy was only too grateful to have no reason to enter death’s edge.

He looked at his boss, swallowed hard, then said, “can I ask you a question, boss?”
Seeing D.I Lucy’s nod, he continued, “you okay?”
D.I Lucy fixed her gaze towards the road, twirling her empty ring finger with her right hand and letting the silence answer.

word count: 170. This story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy where each week a picture is provided and we are to write a 75-175 word story on it. Thank You very much @yarnspinner for this week’s picture. 

G- Grief

G- Grief


They’d tell you they’re sorry,
While you stare at the floor;
Wondering how on earth,
A part of you is now gone;
Their words sound so foreign,
Till your love’s name comes up;
Every mention- a drill,
Burning a hole in your heart,

They’d tell you they’re sorry,
And you wonder what for-
It wasn’t their fault,
Heck it wasn’t anyone;
You envision them strolling to
The arms of their love;
Looking down through welled eyes,
At the emptiness of yours.

They’d tell you they’re sorry,
And that they understand,
But you know they cannot fathom
The loss you incurred,
So you nod as they murmur
Words, meant to comfort-
Praying to God, he Is at much
Much more peace, than you are.

B- Baby in heaven

B- Baby in heaven


Silence blankets the room,
I see your pale feet,
From a gloved hand-
Silence blankets the room.

Joy washes over me-
9 months of weight,
18 hours of- my God-
Torturous pain,
Relief washes over me, but
Silence blankets the room.

A life- I have carried a life,
A symbol- of my other half,
A sign- we were meant to be,
My baby- I see his feet
Silence blankets the room.

Silence blankets the room,
Seconds turn to minutes,
My baby’s chest-
Doesn’t move,
His voice- goes unheard,
It dawns on me as,
Silence blankets the room.

Towards the end of last year, i did six weeks of obs and gynae shift. I saw Joy, pain and loss. I remember a patient who was in the hospital from 9am to around 7pm who was in labour, with the knowledge that the baby was dead. I can’t even imagine the strength it takes to go through the pain of childbirt, knowing the baby within has no heartbeat. And my sister (also a medical student) saw a similar case, and this time, it was actulaly triplets, To lose three kids all at the same time… For me, these women are survivors.

The beautiful image above is courtesy of Pinterest/ Anything will do

Without him-

Without him-


With him,
Life held meaning
With him,
Each day was a memory in the making
Life seems dreary;
I’ve got to sail through the storms.

With him,
Joy was abound
With him,
Home was a person not place
Home’s just four walled;
I’ve got to put on a strong face.

With him,
I was complete
There’s a bullet hole in my heart
I’ve got to keep living;
With him,
I learnt dark will give way to light
Always… Eventually.

The above image is courtesy of Pinterest

When love leaves-

When love leaves-

Ŵhen love leaves, 

Silence becomes defeaning,

You see things, all too clearly

That happy couple holding hands,

 It takes you back- back- to a time when 

Sweet words and morning jokes were a norm

When fights didn’t mean the end but, 

One of those things that happen.

Until, the unannounced 

Arrives- death 

And love has to leave. 

I’d like to turn this into a longer poem, but it’s late at night and I’m drinking tea, thinking of sleep and dreading another morning class tomorrow. 🙂

Writer’s Quote: Memories

Writer’s Quote: Memories



And there we were,
Under the night’s blanket;
Wrapped around your arms,
In a loving embrace;
Swearing, I’d never fall in love again,
It’s just a big mistake;
And you say, hush baby,
Listen to winds-
You’d be alright again.

Mama, I miss you
All over again;
And you were right
I’d fall in love again
And I miss
You saying, well I told you so…
And how we’d laugh,
Like friends not mother and kid.
I miss you,
Every now and again.

And here I am now,
With life’s pieces fitting into place;
And your memories,
Your laughter,
Keeps me going anyway;
And though tears sneak out
when I’m reminiscing you,
I know, like you said to me
once before-
I’d be alright again.

The prompt for this week’s Writers quote Wednesday writing challenge is memories. This is an event where you share a quote and write a piece, anything, inspired by the quote.

C- Cruel to be kind

C- Cruel to be kind


She was taught as a kid,
It was all in good spirit,
When harsh words were hurled at her.

So she grew up thinking,
Maybe love was hidden,
Behind hurtful remarks.

She was taught as a teen,
Man is cruel to be kind,
When the bullies would get physical.

So she married a man,
Who displayed love through fist,
Blaming every mistake on her.

She was taught as a kid,
How to smile through the pain,
That it’d only make her braver.

So she grinned and faked it,
Hid her scars and hurting,
Believing it would make her a brave heart.

Until one sullen morning,
Her weak heart gave away-
She was gone before medics arrived.

They labeled her death- sudden;
Unaware she’d been wilting,
Since the first ever lesson she’d had.

the above image is courtesy of The odyssey. This is a scheduled post, I am away at the moment, hoping to be back soon. 🙂

On Loss-

On Loss-


There is no preparation, no test; neither assignment nor hint to prepare us for certain things in this world. We see tales of tragedies and its almost always someone else’s family, no one expects its going to be theirs. No one prepares for that. And then it happens.
The dreaded phone call which brings our carefully crafted glass house of security, crashing with one single statement- “I’m sorry”.

Sorry. And you wonder what they are sorry for. Sorry for the fact they couldn’t save “her”, sorry that it was too late, sorry there’s little they they can do to appease your pain, sorry that they have to be the bringer of bad news, or simply sorry for the departure of another beautiful soul from the world.

There is no preparation, no practice… In that Moment, you either walk across the broken shards feeling the loss with every stinging sensation or, you stare unmoving, long and hard at the broken pieces. Nothing can prepare you for that split second reaction. You either grieve or you don’t…

The above image is courtesy of: Campus health.unc

Flash Fiction: Grief…

Flash Fiction: Grief…


Jenna was leaning against a wall at the edge of a long winded passageway. Her body, obscuring a better half of the passage from the rays of the sun.
My feet were tired from running, and I swear I could hear the incessant terrifying flutter of my heart. It was times like those, I regretted not putting in extra couple of hours at the gym.

By the time I got to Jenna, I was panting, barely able to make complete sentences.
“We’ve been worried sick looking for you!”, I managed after a few moments of getting-myself-together.
Jenna looked up and smiled. I could tell from the redness of her sclera and her stained cheeks, she’d been crying… Again.

I made space for myself beside her. Eventually she spoke,
“This grief, does it- does it ever get easier”, she choked. Placing her hand on what used to be a growing bump, her baby bump.
Staring into the abyss, I placed her hand in mine and let the silence answer…

word count :168. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you @storyteller’sabode for this week’s image.

I know I have been awol this week. I will try my best starting today to get around all the long overdue comments for which I do apologize. And I do miss reading you posts and I’m looking forward to them.