CHOCOLATE

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 53; the fifty third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "CHOCOLATE"

  Dark and mahogany,
ever so seductive, it is sultry,
Tempting you to lust,
unbridled passion, it ignites...
Temperature that soars,
as it teases and flirts,
Wanting to make contact,
and be very very intimate...
Unable to resist,
your tongue, but licks,
Committing the sin thousand times,
Eating bites, many times. - the chocolate.

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DOWN MEMORY LANE

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 49; the forty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "DOWN MEMORY LANE" | ( Three inter-linked 55 Fiction )

  1. The Sign...

Down memory lane her mind went, remembering the first time she held his tiny body in her arms. All the labour pain and the pungent hospital stench forgotten, when the nurse handed her the little bundle of joy, her baby! His tiny fingers curled into hers ~ a sign, that he’d always follow her guidance.

  2. The Promises...

Down memory lane her mind went, remembering the first time he had come running with blood smeared in his hands. In school, getting involved in a brawl and unable to control his anger, he had smashed his classmate’s head with a metal-rod. She faced everyone defending him, after his promises never to lose his cool.

  3. The End...

Down memory lane her mind went, remembering those broken promises, year after year; when alas, she realized, she had given birth to a monster. A rapist son, she shot him dead. Maybe she shouldn’t have defended him all those years, she reminisced, clasping the prison-bars tight, with tears trickling down the corners of her eyes.


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APOLOGY - 55 FICTION

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 48; the forty-eight edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "APOLOGY" | ( Two inter-linked 55 Fiction )

  1. The Apology Note...

She woke up to a terrible headache. Her head still had a slight bump, where he hit her with an iron rod. Her body ached as she tried to drag herself out of bed. The sheets felt wet; he had raped her till she bled. In the mirror an Apology note was stuck, as usual!


  2. No More Apology...

With disgust she tore the Apology note. It was his usual game. She’d been bearing the brunt of his sadist whims, almost everyday. That night as the torture resumed, she was ready. Her hand clutched the knife tight; waiting to strike. As he pulled her harshly towards him, she stabbed him. No more Apology notes!


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The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 08 | ( Images Courtesy : Google )

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LIGHT

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 43; the forty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "LIGHT" |

A MOTHER'S 'LIGHT' OF LIFE IS ONLY HER BABY


She is the ‘light’
Of her mother’s life,
A precious gem gotten,
After labored pain,
A tiny bundle of joy
That knows no bounds,
No less a miracle...

Always with cheer
And chatter
That surrounds,
Her pink cherubic cheeks
Or playful glee,
Makes a mother forget
In an instant,
All pain, woes
And worries…

A little bundle of bliss,
Nine months
In her mother’s womb
Whom she had carried,
God’s gift to a mother,
A mother’s gift
To world…

Little cuddly soft
Sparkly delight,
She is the ‘light’
Of her mother’s life.

❤❀❤

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 07 | ( Images Courtesy : Google )

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SWEET AND SOUR - 55 FICTIONS

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 41; the forty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "SWEET AND SOUR" | ( Both two 55 fictions in poem format below are connected to each other )

  1. Mood Swings...

Sweet and sour was his love,
One moment, he would grab her,
Rub his face against her cheeks,
And, rest his head on her shoulder,
Whispering sweet nothings…
Next moment, he’d push her angrily away,
Showering a volley of abuses,
A daily routine it was, inescapable,
Crazy passionate love making,
Followed by, violent mood swings.


  2. The Maggi...

The Maggi was cooking in the pot,
Sweet and sour, it was hot,
She had this plan to surprise her hubby,
Since long...
Today was his birthday;
She slowly mixed in the poison,
A perfect opportunity she had finally seen,
After all though the violent times she’d been,
As he ate, the Maggi killed him.


❤❀❤

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 06 | ( Images Courtesy : Google )

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MAKE A WISH - 55 FICTION

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 40; the fortieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Make a Wish"

  1. The Fauji Son...

“When are you coming home? It’s been three years since you went to the border,” a worried mother asked her son on phone, who was in the army! She was getting old and aching to see her son.

“‘Make a wish, Maa!”

“My wish is only to see you.”
Doorbell rang, her son stood outside.


  2. Maalti's Wish...

“Make a wish Maalti,” Arti placed Maalti’s fallen eye lash on back of her hand. Young Maalti closed her eyes.
“I wish I could live in one of those,” she said, pointing the high-rise apartments nearby.

“Maalti, head-supervisor has been looking for you,” the orphanage clerk called.
“A very rich couple wants to adopt you.”


  3. Make or Break...

Sheila wanted desperately their relationship to work. But Vipin was not showing any signs of commitment. They dated couple of times.

Each time she expected him to propose her, but got disappointed.

“Make a wish,” he said. This date, Sheila thought, it’d either be make or break. She opened her eyes.
“Marry me?” he asked.


  4. The Angel...

Orphan Tia lived in a hostile environment at her Aunty’s place, slogging away. One night in her dreams, she saw an angel say to her, “Make a wish Tia.”

Tia wanted to be set free from her sorrows.
Next day, the family's lawyer announced, Tia inherited riches from a maternal uncle and could go free.


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BREAK!!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-nine edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break"

At the early break of dawn,
She quickly demolished her breakfast,
And hastily headed out to the location.

It was after quite a long struggle,
The first 'break' she had ever got,
In that hot-shot producer's upcoming project.

A lucky break, she thought,
A break that every artist dreamt of,
A break that would make her everyone's envy.

By morning, traffic was already in full swing,
As she zoomed ahead in her scooty, in full speed,
She frequently applied many breaks, to keep her safe.

A glance at her watch, told, she was already getting late,
Oh!No, she could'nt afford that for her first ever break,
In the heavy traffic, she swirled ahead.

Taking the tricky twists, turns, tackling speed-breaks,
Her only focus was to reach the sets,
Then alas, one break was applied just too late.

As the boy she crashed into, fell down on harsh impact!

Breaking news 'broke' on local channels,
Her face flashed,
Captioned 'Careless driver breaks little boy's legs!'

She felt ashamed, guilty to the core.
Never had she ever dreamt,
Rush for her own 'break', would break someone's legs!

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 04

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THE WOMAN ON PLATFORM NUMBER.10 - 55 FICTION

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eight edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "THE WOMAN ON PLATFORM NUMBER.10"

1. Destined to be poor.

The woman on platform number.10 spotted a lottery ticket.
"I have no use of it," she thought as she picked it.

She thought of selling. Atleast, she could buy some food and medicines for her son.
For 100Rs a man bought it.

It was the winning number, he searched,
but the woman had already vanished!!


2. Manifestation or real?

Harry always spotted the woman on platform number.10, sitting at the same spot.
Sometimes he saw people throwing coins at her; sometimes they didn’t seem to notice her at all.

One night he was at the platform, and saw the lady.
She looked up at him indignantly, just then he saw someone walk through her!


3. Escaped, but...

The train had arrived. The woman on platform number 10 rushed towards it.

“Is he there?” “Has he come?” she asked the passengers, looking anxiously through each window, her eyes searching desperately.

“There she is! Catch her before she escapes again,” someone ordered.
“Let me go, he’s come,” she resisted.
“Meet him in the asylum!”


4. Undercover!

The woman on platform number.10 stood uncomfortably. Some rowdies stared, eve-teased and whistled at her.

Then, BOOM BOOM, some terrorists surrounded the platform ready to create trouble.
Rowdies were held hostage too!

The woman pressed secret button, within minutes commandos arrived. She joined in too, shot at the terrorists.

Undercover cop, she saved their lives!



5. Hopeless Hope!

The woman on platform number 10 arrived eagerly. Her son will come to take her back today, she thought happily.

Hours passed no sign of him.
It was night and getting late.

“Come Amma, time to go back,” she saw the attendant from the old age home. “He’ll never come.”

Sadly, the woman walked back.

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WHAT TRUTH, WHAT FICTION

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 37; the thirty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Truth is stranger than fiction"

"I want to see you Maria, you are mine. I want to see you completely. I want to see everything today!" Rico exclaimed in uncontrollable passion.
Their relation on internet had soared heights lately, both madly in love.

A new webcam she had got. A bit shy, bit hesitant she took some shots.

He wanted to see everything she remembered, he said....

Slowly, only to please him she removed her clothes one by one.
She had never done it before, but she loved him so.
With a bit courage, she clicked some daring shots.
Revealing her assets only for his eyes, she mailed the pictures.


"You, whore...you bloody slut. I never want to see you again you cheap porno," Rico was furious when he saw the photographs.
He thought she did this for everyone. And yet, she had done it just to please him. Only him.

He had said, he wanted to see everything, didnt he?

Rico broke all the promises he made. She felt used, vulnerable and violated.
He continued to stubbornly think of her as a prostitute, but only if he knew that it was the first time she had done it, only for him.

Maria threw away the webcam in disgust, it had destroyed everything.
Accused a prostitute, she was still a virgin...

Indeed, Truth is Stranger than Fiction!

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AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 36; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.The theme for the month is "and then there were none"

It was the lovely 31st March evening,
A party for me, my friends said with glee.
It was on very rare occasions that I got,
To merry make such and be so happy.

It was getting dark, like cinderella..
I hoped, worried that I was not late.
Perhaps the party had already begun,
Gathering my gown, hurried, to reach the venue gate.

Yes! Its tonight, come right before 12..
My friends had called again to confirm.
I was dressed my best, make-up and frills,
My hair like a princess, a trendy glamorous perm.

I was all set to steal the show,
My competitors I shall defeat I swore.
Those high society showoffs, those darlings of the crowd,
Were but for me, an utter eye sore.

I was excited at the thought of food and wine,
The music and dance that I always pined for me awaits.
New people that I'd meet, the best social do it was,
The sort of party, I wanted to be part of always.

I heard the music from quite afar, the media and the glitz..
I rushed to the building, not wanting to miss the fun.
I looked up the balcony, my friends saw me as they waved,
Up the stairs, to join them fast I began to run.

I reached the top floor where the party was,
A quick glance at my mirror, assured I was second to none.
Expecting a grand welcome, with rockstar pomp I walked in,
The music had stopped, all quiet and then there were none...

The midnight clock striked sharp at 12
Realised, alas, it was the April 1st fool that I was made.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here.To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 01

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