Tagged: short fiction Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • Ram 3:04 pm on April 19, 2015 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , , short fiction, ,   

    The Waiting Room 

    imagesPriyanka was all drowned in sweat. She was perspiring. God! What had happened to her? It was spine chilling cold in her  air-conditioned office. The office, that  she was so used to, day and night. Rather,day shifts and night shifts for four years till now. Life hasn’t been the same when she landed on this job after graduation. An IT career, her parents dreamt of. Infosys was her dream, for a girl from a far away smaller city like Salem. She got what she wanted. Her parents pushed her out of the house as soon as she graduated, and talked with pride about their daughter, to all their relatives. ” You know, my daughter Priyanka is at Infosys. We are looking for a handsome bridegroom.Horoscope work is in progress” her Dad would say this to his cousins when they came home. Her mother would have a proud grin always, as if she had won a lottery. Priyanka’s pals were taking their afternoon break, and here, she was all alone staring at her blank PC screen.

    She was a goody-goody girl so far. Just casual chats, no serious stuff with any guy until yesterday. Rahul. Yes. Rahul was the guy who was causing all this sweat. The tall and handsome Rahul, whom everyone at office was willing to kiss in public. Her friends at office would jump into his lap once he arrived, and sip coffee with him for hours together and exchange pizza bites just to taste his lips. This would happen so often that, Priyanka would get annoyed and would just close her eyes when he arrived and concentrate on her laptop. Rahul had called her yesterday and asked her for a date. At first she just froze. Why me. She wasn’t close at all. It was surprising that he got her number. There were so many cute girls waiting to jump into his car. She was not “Fair and Lovely”. She was above average, but presentable. Ok..She was different. Rahul had asked her to wait at the lounge at the ” Tonic Bar ” at 7 pm. She felt odd. She was there a couple of times with her friends, but wasn’t familiar with the place. It was close to her office, though. It was 6, now and couldn’t take it anymore. Waiting here was the same as waiting at the Lounge. ” Why not be there early, so that this whole thing would get over soon” she thought. She took a break, and took out a few cleansing wipes and touched her face. It was so cool. Refreshing.

    She left her office quickly, before she got confused. So if it’s going to be Rahul, why not. It was only the girls who were after him. He was not. He just chatted. That’s it. He was smart, handsome and if it’s me, he will be my trophy. The Tonic Bar was a small place. Mostly the IT crowd flocked there. Noise and laughter mixed with hiccups was all one could hear. She took a comfortable sofa and dropped down. The graffiti in the wall in front of her was screaming red. She told the guy who came to take orders, that a friend is coming in half an hour and she will wait until then. The guy smiled, and left. It’s so scary to be in a bar without drinking she felt. So many guys and girls were talking the truth. After a couple of shots, it was “truth time”. True emotions, feelings, lies, bullshit, all poured out in each table. She felt like recording the conversation’s, because she knew it would all change the next morning. She set her gaze, moving her eyes all around. “Holy cow”. It was Rahul. What the… What is he doing at that corner table she thought. It was only 6.30 and here he was, talking to a waiter , so close to his ears and pointing his finger to a cocktail glass on the table. The waiter nodded his head vigorously and Rahul smiled and pressed something into his hands. The waiter was over joyed. Why didn’t he call her and tell her that he would be early. Her mobile vibrated now and started dancing in her handbag.

    It was Rahul. ” Hi. Priyanka, Sorry , I will be a bit late. Be there at 7.30 at the lounge. OK. I’m at my cousins place. Damn. This traffic is annoying” he said. “I will be there soon”. Wow. He had mastered the art of bluffing. She was screaming inside but concealed it elegantly. He was a con guy. So, Mr.Rahul was right here, and was giving her the “cake”. She quickly gathered her thoughts.  His waiter buddy was busy chatting with him. Her heart was fluttering but  she was smart enough to understand, the finger signal by Rahul. They were planning to spike her drink when she arrived. May be after a few rounds. Then….Then, he might even carry her to his car and head straight . Straight to his apartment, or a Hotel. Who knows? Her heart was racing now. It was worth the wait. She was lucky to be early. Early enough, to know the real Rahul. She quickly, but silently got up, turned her head slowly, and dashed her way to the exit. She wasn’t noticed at all. The dim lights came to her help. The wait was finally over. wowbadge______________________________________________________________________________________________ This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This week’s WOW prompt is – ‘The Waiting Room’ Waiting rooms are a pretty common sight, being ever present in many places. In the doctor’s office, at train or bus stations, at airports or in universities. You might have been directed to a waiting room before your interviewer was ready to meet you. Waiting rooms not just denote a halt, but also a transition, don’t you think? What are the stories that can take place in a waiting room? Write a superb blog post on ‘The Waiting Room’ as soon as you can, because we can’t wait to see your entry!

    Advertisements
     
    • Viyoma 11:39 am on April 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Interesting…dark side of the charming professional. The character of Priyanka is well sketched.

      Like

  • Ram 3:54 pm on May 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , indian elections 2014, , indian prime minister, indian prime minister elect, minnisters in indian cabinet, narendra modi, new bjp prime minister, saarc, saarc invite, short fiction,   

    The Hot Seat 

    The war cries have already begun. The new Indian Prime Minister is yet to take oath. His invitation to all SARC country heads has created a stir as expected. What will the politicians and the news channels do? Their daily bread and butter is another man’s agony. Normally NEWS is nothing but seeing or reading about a helpless situation, a helpless man, or a woman in any part of the world. As we may all know most of the “NEWS” is negative in nature. So a wise man said to me ” Don’t watch the news channel before retiring to bed.” He may be right. Now, let me leave the pros and cons of the news channels for a while and move on to our country.

    This bold invite of his is being ripped apart, baked, fried and grilled in all news channels and newspapers, since they were running dry for a couple of days until the new cabinet takes shape, and before things start moving. This invite has come as a blessing for them, as a ” filler headline ” for a couple of days. It is very funny to note that even before the PM readies himself to sit on the hot seat, there are heat waves floating like feathers all around. Too much is being read into this issue.

    All issues can be best dealt with when the person is sitting in front of you in full flesh and blood, than by seeing him or talking through any electronic medium, be it a cellphone, or a telephone, or a television, or Skype, or by email. The common man is now used to seeing so many people, so many situations live on TV, that he jumps to conclusions within seconds and starts favoring a group A or a group B. It’s all too fast. News spreads like wild-fire these days, thanks to so much communication channels we have at our disposal, right from the net to the idiot box lying in our living room.

    So, let us have some patience. Patience my friend. Let the magic unfold by itself. Mr. Narendra Modi may be the magician, but we are all part of the magic. Unless we participate positively, do some work by ourselves, shed a few drops of sweat, shed a few threads of hatred, it will not work. After all everyone wants peace.


    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    Your post has to revolve around the word Magic! What does it mean to you? What is it that is magical according to you? Blog about it now

     
  • Ram 2:34 pm on May 9, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , short fiction, ,   

    A Bright Summer Day 

    MOM


    This time we’re having at a mother’s day special! Your post must contain the word MOM and you have just 5 sentences to complete your story.

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    wowbadge

     
  • Ram 3:08 pm on March 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , , , short fiction, , ,   

    Students ! 

    Location – A remote countryside school for the aged in northern India.

    Synopsis – A new and young English teacher, Mr. Rahul arrives from Mumbai to teach a batch of twenty students between the age of sixty to seventy.

    Rahul : Good morning to all of you. This is my first day at this school. I understand that you are all very nice, good and obedient students. That’s what, Mr.Panicker, your correspondent told me. You have all been in this class for a month. So, let me begin by testing your knowledge. Hmm. Your name Sir. ” I am Pramod, Masterji “, he answered. OK Pramod, come here and write the word KNOWLEDGE on this board. ” Me, Me, Me. Masterji.” There was a chorus in the class, but Pramod ran faster with the chalk piece, towards the board.

    12

    He wrote a really big ” NOWLEDGE”, on it. Rahul laughed. So, where is the K, in the word. Pramod said ” Masterji, how can there be a K in this word. Not necessary. It is Nowledge. See ” Nonsense, Nomad, Naughty”. All these words have no K. Rahul got irritated and said ” Students, we can’t change the grammar according to our will. So don’t write your own grammar. This word begins with the letter K. Understand. The class shouted in unison. ” No, No. It is not correct. You are a cheater teacher. You don’t know English. Let’s do the same thing, what we did to Pandey.Come friends. ”

    They ran to Rahul, and turned him upside down and tied him on the ceiling fan. Rahul was pleading for help. His mobile rang, and he answered it with great difficulty. ” Help. Help. What? Are you waiting for me in the class. But I am already in a class in the town street. What? It’s on the north town street. Why didn’t you be clear. Then what class is this. Oh God!

    __________________________________________________________________________________

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    This time we’re aiming at making it more creative! Your post must contain a text conversation ending with someone saying “k”.

    image – custardy.blogspot.com

     
  • Ram 11:32 pm on February 28, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , short fiction, , ,   

    The Chase 

    thechase

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    This time we’re aiming to make it more creative! Your post must contain the word Friend and you have just 5 sentences to complete your story.

     
  • Ram 3:53 pm on January 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , , , love isn't fair always, short fiction, , stealing love, surprises in love,   

    and the winner is … 

    Sharmila adjusted her car’s rear view mirror and surveyed her face. A quick check for black spots, excess oil and over make-up. “Wow! I look cool na. Dinesh will surely like me na. She turned and looked at Kamini. ” “Why are you so tense? I’m the one who is going to meet him. Cheer up Kamini.” “Hmm, that’s right Sharmi. I’m a bit nervous in accompanying you. You should have gone alone to meet him. You just pulled me out of my bed and see how I look. A cotton churidar is all I got to wear in such short notice. I have not even completed my nail polish. You look so cool in that, black, body hugging dress. Dinesh is just going to fall flat when he sees you.” Kamini tapped her head with a wry smile.

    love-love-31236730-1280-800

    “Kamini, don’t forget you are the connecting link. When Dinesh came to our office last week, you spent an hour talking to him and convincing him for the marriage. His parents wanted a bride from Mumbai, but you spoke with them and later with Dinesh. I’m going to miss you after marriage da. Please drop in to meet me often. Kamini smiled.

    They reached Dinesh’s apartment, and went inside. Dinesh looked awesome  in a white kurta and jeans. ” Hi Dinesh, sorry to keep you waiting” said Sharmila. ” “Here is your present, as promised.” Sharmila took Kamini’s hand and joined it with Dinesh’s. Her eyes were moist. ” What is going on?” Kamini shouted.

    “Kams, Dinesh sent me a sms last week saying that he was in love with you. He fell flat for you and not me. I cried the whole night thinking how this could happen to me. I felt shattered but I liked his frankness. What if this had happened after our marriage. You are my best friend Kamini and I have kept my promise in bringing you here. ”

    Kamini could hardly believe this, as she saw Sharmila walking  away hurriedly towards her car.

    wowbadge

    ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    This is a post for Blogadda “Write Over the Weekend” theme for this week

    This time your entry must contain the three words – rear view mirror, nail polish and awesome.

    photo credit : fanpop.com

     
  • Ram 1:35 pm on December 21, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: a plain haircut, Beauty salon, , , , Hair Care, Hairdresser, Hairstyle, , , short fiction, ,   

    Hairy tale 

    Anirudh went inside the newly opened hair salon near his house. The name ” Two Coins Hair Salon” attracted him. The salon was a week old and it was crispy clean. As Anirudh sat down on the first empty chair near the entrance, he saw three hairdresser’s rushing towards him to claim him as their own for the next half an hour. After a small fight, a lean guy won the battle and took position behind him.

    “Sir, only haircut or…….?” . ” Yes, a plain haircut, medium at the top and very close behind the neck and sides ” said Anirudh. ” OK Sir “.

    salon

    ” Sir, your hair is slightly rough. When did you last shampoo?”  ” Four day’s ago” said Anirudh. The dresser started cutting a few strands of hair near his neckline and said ” Sir, we have a special ayurvedic shampoo called medmix. It’s very effective and cheap. It’s just 1200 Rupees. ”

    ” I see “. ” Sir, there are so many black spots on your forehead, and nose. We have a golden facial treatment. Just try it. No one will recognize you. It will make you so fair. Sir, you also have a double chin, which is not so good for your age. We have a special aloe vera chin massage. It’s quite cheap. Just 1500 Rupees. Sir, we have a ………..”  ” Please stop ” said Anirudh, and took out a sheet of paper from his pocket and gave it to him. The hairdresser was taken aback. It read “ DO NOT DISTURB . I have tried all the above hair treatments, golden facial’s and face massages. I am fed up of all this fuss over a simple haircut for which I came here. So please keep quiet and do your work.”

    The hairdresser nodded and continued, in silence.

    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    This time your entry must contain, ‘Do Not Disturb’

    picture credit – http://www.yelp.com

     
  • Ram 12:19 am on December 8, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , female child, , , , say yes to a girl child, short fiction, ,   

    The Scooterist 

    scooterist

    It was a Sunday morning. The door bell went on for a minute, till Mukesh ran all the way downstairs to open the door.The apartment security guard was standing there with a puzzled look. “Sir, there is a parcel for you. A scooterist came two minutes back and delivered it. But..”    “What ?”

    “But Sir, before I could ask his name he vanished. I got scared, so I have kept the parcel  safely inside my cabin, Please come.” Mukesh was annoyed at the fuss and followed the guard to his cabin.  He grabbed the parcel and walked towards his apartment. He saw a note pasted at the side. ” Call  9633430022 “.

    He called the number. ” I was surprised to see a parcel with my name on it . Who are you? ” Open it ” said the male voice. Mukesh opened the parcel cover, Then he opened the lid. His skin grew pale in shock.

    ” Mr. Mukesh, I know what you did yesterday evening. It’s a promise. It will be a secret between us. Your identity will not be revealed and this will be forgotten now. But on one condition. Promise me that it will not happen again.”  Mukesh was crying loudly now. ” Sorry, Sorry, I promise you. What a foolish thing I have done.” Mukesh disconnected the phone and hugged his three-day old baby daughter. He and his wife were expecting a son and since it was a girl, he left her inside a dustbin at a lonely street corner. The scooterist had followed him and united them.

    _______________________________________________________________________

    wowbadge

    This post is a part of write over the weekend, an initiative for indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This time your entry must contain, “ I was surprised to see a parcel with my name on it.”

    image credit – vimeo.com

     
    • Abhra Pal 6:12 am on December 11, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      Though you have taken a good theme, but I am sorry to say that there are a number of loopholes in the story and confusing the reader….

      Like

      • Ram 7:43 pm on December 11, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Hmm, I wanted to keep the suspense till the end Abhra. Thank you.

        Like

  • Ram 5:29 pm on December 1, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: archangel, , , , , devta, hourglass figure, , , , indian meditation guru, meditation, short fiction, , , , yoga   

    An Hourglass Figure 

    imagesGuru Hemchand’s secretary gently opened the CD player and inserted a CD. After a few seconds, “Aum…mmmmmmm” , the enchanting  sound filled the huge hall. When “Aum” is chanted in a chorus, it fills the air, and like tranquil waves, the mind becomes calm and relaxed. The hall was  filled with mostly Westerners and Indians, who closed their eyes and started to feel one with this chant. This early morning session was eagerly awaited by many guests, hmm…… followers, no, disciples……No no. Hemchand didn’t like to tag them with any of these words. They were all like his friends.

    Vedhika, who was in her late twenties, married with a son, joined this meditation course two weeks before. She opted to join here because this centre was close to her house and she could just walk, meditate, then walk back home. It sounded easy.   Hemchand was more like a corporate consultant, than a guru. He didn’t have any assistants washing his feet, or people bowing before him. Nor did he have pictures of him plastered all around the place. He spoke when needed. But his mind was razor-sharp, very disciplined and mature. The westerners liked this aspect, since they didn’t have to bother with arrival and departure. No signatures were asked and  no registers were maintained. Above all, the whole course was free. Hemchand was in his mid forties, and had withdrawn from a successful career as a lawyer in the US. This meditation centre was his baby for the past five  years and he had enough money to just sleep in his “easy chair” for the rest of his life. But his mechanical life in the US, taught him the importance of human values, love and relationship. He decided to pack his bags and go back to India.

    hourglass-shape-saree

    Vedhika’s presence at the centre, was watched with envy and irritation by the administrators and participants. She had an hourglass figure, and dressed mostly in sarees, with very low-cut blouses. She daily wore a strong “Bvlgari Jasmin Noir” perfume. It had notes of pink pepper, bergamot and Jasmine and it was the jasmine that stood out most. The overall effect was provocative, sexy, and alluring.  All other participants would be dressed appropriately, but Vedhika intentionally concentrated to draw attraction, rather, cause distraction. After a few days, her presence started to become an eyesore to everyone because she always appeared to talk in length about meditation, vibration and yoga to others, though she always appeared fidgety and restless.

    Hemchand studied Vedhika from the day she arrived. He noticed all her flaws, and being a psychic, he knew what she was up to. That day, during the class, Vedhika posed some weird questions to Hemchand. She said ” Sir, I have been meditating for nearly three months and my kundalini is not rising. I have not heard any bell sounds, and no “Devta” has appeared in my vision, as promised by you. I came here to witness all these.” “Please wait” Hemchand interrupted. ” Please meet me in my room later, where your questions will be answered. ”

    Vedhika was pleased. She was waiting for such a moment. After the class got over, she was asked to come inside the private room of Hemchand. She went inside and sat down on the broad, yellow floor mat. ” Vedhika , I am sorry. Meditation is not what you think. It is beyond thinking. There are no expectations here.” Hemchand laughed, and continued. ” Bell sounds, Archangels and Devtas are not servants to appear at our will. It is they who decide when to appear, and to whom to appear. It doesn’t matter if they appear or not. It is the great cleansing process which we are doing daily, shedding all our garbage out of our system, which is important. For some it takes minutes, for some it takes years. I presume your married life is not in order. Your husband is not devoting any attention on you because he is busy with his work. So, you are trying to garner attention with your skimpy dressing. Actually you are an innocent victim of this mechanical life pattern. I suggest you bring your husband to me, to have a chat. This can be sorted out easily.

    Tears were rolling from Vedhika’s round cheeks. She thought, how did this idiot know about their married life? She then stood up and thanked Hemchand. ” Sorry Guru, I am sorry to have asked so many questions. My husband is returning from the US next week. I promise, we will come together, to meet you. Thank you.

    _________________________________________________________________________

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    Every weekend, we give out creative writing topics for the love of writing.

    This time your entry must contain the three words idiot, perfume and CD.

    hourglass sari photo credit – utsavfashion.in.  Lotus pose, photo credit – flexifitness.runningcoachsg.com  Bvlgari Jasmin Noir – http://www.kraseybeauty.com/

     
  • Ram 3:12 pm on November 24, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , cover story, , , , , Japan, , Prime minister, short fiction, , ,   

    Cover Story 

    wowbadge

    All the cars made a beeline to their loyal and well-known destination, No 16, Maidhan Avenue, New Delhi. Police troops and SPG commandos swarmed the place and took vantage points inside this sprawling residence. This place hadn’t seen much activity for the past four years. It was quiet because, its graceful resident, Mrs Swarupa Singh, had lost the previous election pretty badly and by a big margin. Her “Swadeshi Chakra ” party members were not kind to her, and all the bigwigs tried their best to keep Mrs.Swarupa Singh out of the prime ministerial race, but luck was with Mrs Singh. Today was different.

    Jai Ho !

    Jai Ho ! (Photo credit: nanda_uforians)

    She fought this election tooth and nail, by playing to the masses and promising thirty point plans, out  of which, most were freebies. She hired the country’s biggest marketing ad agency and they conceived her plans like a business commercial. She won the election by a big margin, pleasing all her party cadres, and also reassuring her  top brass’s faith in her.

    Today was the D Day. She was going to assume office at 5 pm. The morning papers showered praises and said ” Mrs Singh wins the second time”. ” Mrs.Swarupa Singh is our new Prime Minister”. ” Swarupa swims against all odds to clinch the throne”. Swarupa Singh was amused at the media. The media need something to chew on. Whether its fast food or a healthy diet, they don’t seem to  bother. She was sipping hot tea, as she read the headlines. Her faithful secretary Venkatraman interrupted her reading.”Madam, all the preparation has been done for our unofficial cabinet meeting this morning. Mr. Jeyamohan and Mr. Shri Gowda have promised to be here on time.” Jeyamohan was the finance minister elect and Shri Gowda was going to hold the home minister portfolio.

    the "red fort", new delhi, india.

    the “red fort”, new delhi, india. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    At 11 am she took the blessings of her parents, and walked into the conference hall adjoining her house. This hall was used for all party meetings. It had seen many parliamentarians. Definitely It had seen heated arguments, at times, even chairs flying. After all, it was like a mini parliament. Mrs. Singh sat down and glanced at her vibrant fellow party members and ministerial elects. The portfolio allocation was a foregone conclusion and everyone knew it like the back of their hand.

    ” Friends, Quiet please.” After a brief pause she continued, “God has been kind to us and the people have shown their faith again, on us. We have taken the people for a ride most of the time if not always.” She could here some murmuring voices. ” Let me make it simple. This term, it’s going to be my way. We have the majority. We have the most brainiest of people in our cabinet.” Jeyamohan smiled proudly and adjusted his collar. Swarupa Singh took out a sheet of paper, and then glanced at her secretary. Quickly, Venkatraman opened his brief case and started distributing the copies of that sheet to all members present.

    “India is now evolving. We are a new nation with strengths in atomic and nuclear power. We have acres of un utilized lands. We have an english literate population. ” “Madam, Are you out of your senses? “Jeyamohan shouted. “This is impossible and silly. You say that, sanitation, housing, water and roads are the most important priorities for this term.” ” Jeyamohan, please wait. India has cell phones, luxurious cars, the greatest hospitals, good schools and colleges. But we don’t have the civic sense. Most Indians, literate or illiterate use the road as a toilet. We lack the discipline in driving cars, following rules. The same Indian when he travels to the USA he changes. What wonder took place. Nothing. It is all in the mind.

    T52/37 The Flag Runner

    T52/37 The Flag Runner (Photo credit: Rajesh_India)

    Therefore let the information and broadcasting minister use the FM radio and TV as a weapon, in education. Let us start from scratch, like Japan did. It may take years, but we can be proud to say that we started it. I have to say, that this time as prime minister I have decided to change. Then I have decided to change people like you. So, ministers who want to work with me, better make sure you follow my words. Let us take the politics out of politics. Let us change India. This time she decided to raise the bar. Venkatraman smiled at the new Prime Minister Mrs.Swarupa Singh.

    _________________________________________________________________________

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

    Every weekend, we give out creative writing prompts for the love of writing.

    This time your entry must contain, ‘This time, she raised the bar…’

     
    • Amar Naik 2:08 am on November 25, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      hopefully one day we have a strong PM, whose orders are implemented properly as you said in the post 🙂

      Like

      • Ram 7:30 am on November 25, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Yes, let us hope for the best

        Like

      • Ram 7:30 am on November 25, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Thank you Amar

        Like

      • Ram 2:12 pm on December 14, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Amar, I have tagged you for the PASS post from blogadda. Sorry I didn’t inform you earlier. Thank you

        Like

    • jini maxin fernandez 10:28 am on November 25, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      Nice take on the prompt.

      Like

    • kalpana solsi 2:53 pm on November 26, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      What a positive approach .Hope we have a PM like Mrs. Swarupa Singh. Amen. your story made me smile.

      Like

      • Ram 3:51 pm on November 26, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Thank you Kalpana. Everything starts with an idea. It will become a reality soon.

        Like

    • Anita 4:55 pm on November 26, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      “Journey of a 1000 miles must begin with a single step.” May we have more such steps & progressive PMS! Nice story!

      Like

    • Garima shrivastava nag 10:29 am on November 27, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      Nice story Ram . Especially i loved the line ” Let us take the politics out of politics.” . Need of the hour .
      http://www.sweetsharing.com/

      Like

      • Ram 6:18 pm on November 27, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Thanks Garima. Yes, it is the need of the hour.

        Like

      • Ram 2:10 pm on December 14, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Garima, I have tagged you for the PASS post. Sorry I didn’t message you about it earlier. Thank you.

        Like

c
Compose new post
j
Next post/Next comment
k
Previous post/Previous comment
r
Reply
e
Edit
o
Show/Hide comments
t
Go to top
l
Go to login
h
Show/Hide help
shift + esc
Cancel
Yachna Yoga

Yoga is the communion of the individual consciousness with the Supreme Consciousness. Yoga is equanimity of mind in success and failure. Yoga is mental and physical discipline.

Books Come First

And Everything Else Follows

Soulsez...

A soul that's whole in a million reflections :)

Ravi Subramanian

Me, my books and my mind

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

Daily (w)rite

A DAILY RITUAL OF WRITING

Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.

%d bloggers like this: