Mercy
It’s 2 AM in the morning and he is sitting outside his home with the brown street dog who broke a leg last month , feeding him the biscuits from his pocket. He somehow manages to save some shillings every night for the biscuits before spending it all on getting wasted and drunk. He patted the dog as it wagged it’s tail. Stumbling and finding it hard to stand up, he felt out of his senses. Tightening his grip on the bar he alights the steps and ring the door bell. His wife opens the door with shaky hands.Every night he arrives in this inebriated state and shakes her world upside down and today would be no different. He pushed her in whilst hurling abuses.”Dinner” he yelled and she ran in to warm up the food.”Shoes you woman” he yelled again and she ran back to him to take off his shoes. He pulled her by her hair while she asked for mercy “please don’t shout, the kids just went to bed” she pleaded. Irked he pulled the chair and smashed it on to the ground.The sound was terrifying and she controlled her shriek by closing her mouth with both her hands…(To be continued..)

For The Daily Post : Prompt : Mercy

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Black

A mysterious colour so unknown

It’s a part of me and within my soul

consuming me at times

till I open my windows

To stream some light.

I like it more on my outside though

Covering my circumference

To a leaner glow

And for compliments

that I adore;

when I embrace you

Outside my core.

It absorbs me, it fills

That’s it’s wit and it’s will

 

A mysterious colour so unknown

What happens inside a Black hole

Or Black money found at every pole

Few colourless, blackmail some souls

Is the night only black ? ! I am doubtful though.

Why then that day was called a black day

When humanity wore a cold colour

To see red – to end some lives

Oh for which colour do we fight ?

 

Black is mystery beyond our thoughts

Close your eyes to feel it within

Rub them closed to see the phosphenes

C’mon be intuitive – it’s in your genes

While at it , did you see some other colours too?

 

Black has a lot to offer

Only if you could reach

It holds within a different promise

For everyone within its reach…

 

Promt : The Daily Post.

Preeti Manaktala.

Morning Tea

An every morning affair …

Tea

It’s 6 am as the alarm goes off and I struggling to get 5 more minutes of my time on the bed. Snooze it man! It’s now 6:15 and I hear my husband cajoling my kids to get up. It’s a signal for me too to get out of bed before he roars on all 3 of us.Me finally out of the bed and into the kitchen now feel a bit of stiffness around my waist, a bit twisting and turning helps and I begin the process of making 4 tiffins for the day. Each day a new struggle what to cook and then to convince them to please finish their tiffins or else….!

So while I am at it my hubby has already ushered them into the bathroom for their morning ablutions and rushes back in the kitchen for a quick hug. Boys are now at the table and me trying to recollect what went into the sandwiches yesterday as my boys don’t like a repeat in their tiffins. Gaurav my hubby serves them each a banana and 7 almonds to munch and comes back to the kitchen again,no not for a second hug but to warm their milk. “I need the microwave so hurry up with the milk please”, I sprout. Today they want cheese on toast which needs me to pre heat the oven. The milk is done but the boys still focusing too hard on the banana. My hubby’s ‘Late ho Jayega, c’mon fast be fast’ is still making no difference to their speed. I serve the boys some butter toast to go with the milk and the younger one declares its potty time for him. So while I am laying the breads in the oven Gaurav takes him to the loo. Now since my younger brat wants someone always around as he sits on that throne, his father uses this time to re-iron and straighten the folding lines from their school uniform while listening to the younger one yank about what this boy did to him and what that teacher told him and why and how he lost his pencil yesterday yet again. Meanwhile the elder one who has finished his breakfast declares that he wants to use the bathroom. FYI,  we have 3 bathroom but my boys are in love with this one alone coz the other 2 has imaginary spiders in them which are always visible to them but always invisible to me.

A war like situation near the bathroom, my 2 tiffins are done yet 2 more to go . It’s 6:50 and the younger one still has to finish his food.He is brought back to the table by his papa and he is non stop chattering about this girl who troubles him in the bus.Morning is the only time he remembers the past future and present and wants all his answers too. My husband now sits down with him to help him finish his toast while checking his office mails in between replying him with a wow yes and no . The elder one my accha bachcha is almost ready and so is their second tiffin . Today they have pasta for lunch in white sauce as requested by them last night. What an accomplishment , but the water bottle still needs to be filled and I call out for my assistant to help and my knight in shining armour appears back in the kitchen to have them filled as I pack up their lunch boxes into their bags. It’s 7:10 I rush in my room to change my clothes as it’s time to drop the boys.  As I comb my hair to look civilised I see my husband struggling to get my younger one wear his shoes while  the elder one is out of the house and threatens to leave as the lift arrives and the little one hopping on one legs shouts ‘Bhiya wait na’.. We are finally at the bus stop and I exchange my greetings with the moms around while reminding my boys that I want their tiffin boxes empty. As the school bus rolls in and I kiss them goodbye I say a short prayer as they alight to keep them safe while they are away.

Back home and its time I always look forward to for my morning cup of chai (tea) with my husband just the way he makes it ekdum kadak masala chai. This tea just makes my day as we to sit down with the newspaper and the hot cuppa and our usual chit chat.

So this is like what happens every morning. Things go a little berserk when he is travelling. I have to do everything on my own. Not that I can’t but he has certainly spoilt me in these 16 years. And NO, I haven’t trained him at all , he has been like this since I have known him. Once I even told my MIL this “ If your man treats you like a princess its a proof that he has been born and raised in the arms of a queen”. She was so delighted and happy to hear this.

I am blessed to have a companion in him who helps me day in day out. Gives me my freedom. Supports me and guides me as a mentor. He is all practical and I am emotional and so I rely on his advice and decisions many times. He is the best dad my boys could have, one who reads them stories at night, attends all the PTM’s with me , takes them for their games and classes over the weekends , shops with them while keeping a tab on their academics as well.A hands-on-dad for sure. Touchwood.

I am secretly hoping that my boys too will turn out like their father when they grow up. But just hoping won’t help here . How do I make them responsible and humane ?  I am sure there is an indirect learning as they see their Papa take on house work with so much ease each day. Very often my elder one pitches in to help. On other days I call out to him for small chores he can manage.  Some simple ones like –

Help me prepare the table for dinner

Help me clear the table post dinner

Folding his comforters as he step out from his bed

Using the wiper to clean and dry the bathroom after his bath

Fill the empty bottles for the fridge in summers

Water the plants

Help me in the simple task of the kitchen at times

Clean his study table and organise his drawers.

Keep his shoes back in the shoe rack. Et al…

Some simple rules. Small steps – one at a time. Won’t be long before I create thorough gentlemen out of my boys. It is very important they understand and realise that it’s not a women job alone to run the house.

So, Don’t hesitate to delegate and ask for help whether you have a girl child or a even a boy.

Happy families have Happy Helping Hands. 🤗

 

 

 

Fragrance

Fragrance

So vivid yet strong

Each different from the other

It trickles my memory 

A feeling so known

This fragrance brought with it

A whiff of days bygone 

Of stories still fresh

It brings back a memory

Mostly sweet

Seldom pain

Is this some kind of factory

My olfactory sense

So sharp and precise

With many stories

Some fullfilled 

Some divine

 Acts like a time machine

Takes me to that place again

As you pass through my breath

 I reminisce we meet again

Yes , I liked you back then

  Dear Fragrance 

Is it why that you stayed ?

                                             The Daily Post : One word prompt : Fragrance

                                             Preeti Manaktala

 

Lollipop

Lollipop

Those summer nights

still fresh in my mind

as we lay on our roof top

gazing the stars

finding their look alike

spotting the Orion

drawing shapes in the sky

joining the dots

flaunting my calibre

made animals and virtual flowers

But waiting to spot

the shooting star showers

and just then again like each times

bedazzled by it’s light

I forget to wish upon it’s swift flight

now thinking what to wish for again if I see

breaking my thoughts

softly he speaks

‘the moon is on leave today

and so is the breeze’

I listen with rapt attention

to my dad as he knows more

about galaxies and world beyond our reach

seeing a cluster he pointed joyfully

that’s an Andromeda my darling

many light years away

the name as big as the distance

made no sense to my compact mind

though it looked like a lollipop 

I promised to pronounce it right

on our next star gazing night.

 

                                             

                                            Daily Prompt Lollipop

Edible

What I take in me is Edible

It could be a resonating thought

Or knowledge I want to aquire

Or a memory that bring a smile

 

Praises are always edible

Food that appeals to the eye

Inspires , adds to your true growth

 

Meat isn’t edible

For the body nor the soul

Its nothing but a dead body on a platter

And makes you scatter

 

Hatred isnt edible

It like self murder

Vices were never

 

Add a filter

To each passing thought

To each morsel you take

Keep only the pure

Stop containing the rest.

The Daily Post : Edible

 

A Callow Mother..

A child gives birth to a mother 

And a mother was born 

She was amateur and callow 

Her life seemed a bit hollow

Vulnerable to the dreaded postpartum 

Luck turned her into a spartan 

Fear of being clumsy and confused 

She perpetually felt abused

She didn’t know what to do 

With this bundle she just delivered

Who seems so selfish crying and howling 

Even as she quietly quivered 

Found no love for this being and no bond

She only waited  for a magic wand 

So she took each day as it came

Alone battling this game

And with no help around 

Dopamine was nowhere to be found 

Days turned into weeks 

And weeks into months

She hit a all time low

But had no time to slow

It dawned on her , one fine day

Its not easy being a mom

Dripping and smelling of lactose

And no time to comb

She walked around like a milking cow

In her XXL maternity gown

Then a transformation came slowly 

When postpartum said goodbye

She learnt to make time for herself

Made herself some pie

She got better as the days passed 

By stealing time in between

To make herself a cup of Chai

I Hope that’s not called mean

Learning new things each day

She was now on her own

This bundle became her prized possession 

Oh this soul she had known 

 His angelic smile, his babbling and his cheer

Melted her like a candle  

She was now on top gear 

A day came when she patiently watched him in sleep

The bond grew deeper and stronger 

But why did she weep ?

Guess her feelings were now truly deep

A mother was born with feelings so pure 

Now she is not just a mother

But a nurturer to cure

She longed to hold him and cuddle 

As he learnt new things each day

Adding feathers to his cap

He will be a big boy one day!

Now she is a pro and an experienced mom

Before she knew it, the second one came along

She’s truly out numbered 

As now they are three! !

Not a moment for her

Will she Ever be free?!?

Her eldest being a quadragenarian 

This one’s a tough nut 

But he loves her deeply

There are no ifs and buts

Three men in her life now

Keeping her on her toes

Can’t imagine her life without them 

Like a Phoenix , she rose !

I have to leave this unfinished here ..

And come back some other day

To tell you more stories

Of her nights and her days…! 

Preeti Manaktala