Escaping from North Korea

Sharing this because people should know about this. Amongst other crimes against humanity…this is one which should not go unnoticed. Hear this young girls story about what life in that country is like. The next time you feel too sorry for yourself, think about her. This is what REAL problems look like.

Share, if you care.

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Years of Living Dangerously: Letterman

For those who are concerned about Climate Change – read this. Also – it will bring a lot of things into sight – esp. how the US isn’t doing its job properly addressing climate change and encouraging solar companies to grow. No – there is a power struggle going on there – and the whole world is going to pay the price for the never ending greed of the power utilities.

I claim no rights to this – reposting it to bring about awareness. I would urge people to sit down and watch this and share it with others.

Over and out.

Melody – Part 1

This is a work of fiction.


She was pregnant.

Three years into her marriage and expecting baby number one, she should have been happy. She was happy. Kind of. She had married Andy, an amazing man who loved her a lot…she had a good job…something she liked doing and the baby was doing well as per the last visit to the doctor.

But behind that smile she hid a sadness that no one knew of apart from her. You know, there are some secrets that you just take to your grave. This was one of them.

‘Congrats. Mary told me.I’m so happy for you.’

She read the text again, a tear rolling down her cheek. A text that wasn’t from Andy.

‘Thanks. How are you?’

She bit her lip. He wouldn’t reply back. He never did.

A day later, she got a mail from him while she was at work. It had a link to a simple guitar solo by an unknown artist. She walked into an empty conference room and clicked on play…wondering what it was all about.

Musical notes flowed into the room, rendering her speechless…the guitarist seemed to be in deep turmoil…for she could feel the pain behind the music. She closed her eyes, living each moment as if it was being played live for her. In a way…it was.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wept quietly.

He didn’t need to reply to her…she already knew how he felt…for he was the guitarist, the love that was lost was in the melody and she was his muse.

She wiped her cheeks and walked out of the the room, wondering how long she could pretend to be happy.


Invitation

‘You know how I know man?’ Andy smirked to his friends over his third glass of beer.

‘Know what?’Asked Ron, rolling his eyes. He’d heard this story before.

‘Its in the eyes man – the eyes…I swear, I’m searching for that girl with that look in her eyes!’

Jeff snorted, a little beer came out of his nose. The entire gang burst into laughter.

‘You been searching for over a year dude – give up! These girls don’t take us seriously ‘cos they know we won’t stick around.’Ron sighed deeply.

Andy scowled. He looked around and sighed in despair. The whole bar was a sausage fest. He’d been in Bombay for a long time but hadn’t dated anyone. He was waiting for that so-called spark. His friends thought it was funny, but it wasn’t.

That’s when he saw her walk into the bar with her friend. She was a tiny little thing, with wavy long hair and dressed in white…she looked like an angel. Their eyes met briefly for a second and then she looked away. Andy felt his heart thud unnaturally in his chest.

‘Whoa man…check out what Andy likes!’ Jeff snickered as all of his friends turned around to look at her.

Andy smiled broadly at them…’Finally!  She likes me man – I’m telling you – that’s the girl I am gonna date!’

‘And what makes you think she’d wanna date you?’ Jeff look genuinely confused.

‘Cos she’s gonna look at me and smile.’ Andy stood up straight and looked across the bar to where she was standing.

After a few minutes Ron broke the silence,’Too bad…eh mate?’

Andy shook his head and continued looking at her.

She was standing alone now, her friend had gone to the washroom. Annnnddd score…their eyes met again. She blushed and looked away quickly.

Andy waited. Any minute now. And sure enough she looked at him again, a shy smile on her lips, her eyes brimming with warmth and anticipation.

‘And that’s my cue, I don’t need no invitation.Here…’ Andy handed over his glass to his friends and walked up to her.


In response to today’s daily promt – invitation.

Ruminator – Part 3

Click on the links for the previous posts:

Part 1

Part 2


I was at Fatboy’s Cafe…with you know…a couple of Fat Boys. Too much beer I guess. I took a big sip from my pitcher and wondered how long my liver would withstand this nonsense.

Randy, the bartender & I were now on friendly terms…on account of me having made this place my second…I mean third home. I checked my phone to see if there were any messages. From..you know…anyone…

Nada. Zilch. I was all alone. No mail in my mailbox. No text in my inbox. No friends. No Family. Nothing.

A normal person would have felt sorry for themselves I guess but I was past that.

A simple choice lay before me. I could continue to go down this path…and well…it would end badly or I could choose to get off this now…like today…and get a bit of normalcy back.

Normal. I didn’t like the sound of it. No, normal me was boring. Normal me would wake up in a bad mood, have a cup of coffee, rush to get ready in the morning…spend the entire day navigating through loads of BS at work, mentally kill my boss and colleagues at least three times, come back home, hit the gym and run till I couldn’t move and then collapse on my bed with some take out food and Netflix.

Normal me.

I took a deep breath. I impatiently tapped on my phone to find a phone of the one. Yeah…the one that got away. Not my ex. Or the one before him.

I deleted that photo. I deleted his number. And then I regretted it. But it had to be done.

I ordered a second round of beer, ignoring Randy’s disapproving look.

I wrote a long mail to my father telling him we were done and I never wanted to see his face again. Judge me all you want…he’d been an asshole of a parent and I was better off without him. I’d stopped getting angry at him. I was at a stage of indifference.

I wrote a mail to my HR, telling her I would be joining back in two weeks. Two weeks. I felt a bit scared. I didn’t know if I was ready to head back into the big, bad world just yet. Well…only time would tell.

Lastly, I called up Cheryl.

“I was wondering when you would call. Where are you?”

“Fatboy’s.”

After half an hour she walked in, looking stern.

“You look like shit.”

“Do not!” I spluttered as I put my glasses back on to hide my dark circles.

She smiled and sat down beside me.

Randy looked at me and scowled, “Another one of your drunken friends?”

I scowled back with equal ferocity,”Shut up and do your job.”

He grinned at me and looked at Cheryl,”She’s my favorite so far. I’d even ask her out if she’d clean up her act.”

Cheryl snorted. “She’s fucking crazy. Don’t do it.”

Both of them grinned at each other. I scowled, pretending to be annoyed where as I was secretly pleased to know that at least two people in this God Damn world cared.

“So tell me…what’s been going on?” Cheryl spoke to me, her voice unnaturally gentle. I sniffed.

I looked at her and shook my head,”No, I won’t whine anymore. I just want you to know I’m sorry for being this way but..”

“I know honey!” Cheryl interrupted me.” I know I have been harsh…I’m sorry. I’m there for you.”

She gave my hand a tiny squeeze and to my horror, I felt a lump in my throat. Both of us sat there in silence…me – drinking my beer and her – squeezing my hand and teasing me about Randy.

After a long time, I smiled and I realized…I didn’t like being alone. No…it kind of sucked.

Over and out.

——————————-

 

Ruminator – Part 2

For part one – click here.


I woke up with a very, very bad headache.

I cursed my self, my foolishness, the bartenders who had served me, my new friends who seemed to have nothing else in the world to do except drink, my ex – husband for not being an asshole and making me feel guilty for breaking off my marriage, my ex – boyfriend who was an asshole and my ex – ex boyfriend who was the love of my life and had never reciprocated my love…

Yeah, it was a pretty long list and that was just the beginning.

I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. No water, as expected. Beer. Tons of it. And some old bread. And oh – milk.

I scratched my head. When the hell did I buy milk? I looked at the milk carton, trying to fathom how something healthy had made its way into my fridge.

I checked the expiry date to make sure it wasn’t outdated like…you know…my misery and took a swig. After I downed half a carton, I realised I was feeling nauseous so I rushed to the bathroom to you know…puke my guts out.

A couple of weeks ago, Cheryl my ex – bestie would have been there, holding my hair back as she always did.

But we’d had a fight.

She’d told me to ‘get over my self’ and ‘stop whining’ and ‘life sucks, accept it and move on’. While she might have been right, I wasn’t in the mood to hear what I already knew so I just walked out of my house…yeah I know – what is it with me walking out of my house you know….good I have two of them….

So! I walked, in my usual buzzed state to my other house…this one actually…and since then I’d avoided contact with any familiar faces for fear of pissing them off.

Yeah, I know I sound like a loser but you know what? I don’t care.

I was pissed and hurt and angry and I wanted to fucking dwell on my misery and feel sorry for my self till there was nothing else to do except move on. I wasn’t ready to move on quite yet.

It was 12 PM. Great. I could go over to Joey’s Pizza for you know…pizza and then by 2 PM Happy Hours would start at Fatboy’s cafe which was my new haunt and I was sure I’d find a couple of my new alcoholic friends to spend time with.

Come to think of it, life wasn’t that bad. I mean – look at me. I was young, attractive, rich, I could eat a million carbs and never put on weight, I could make friends wherever I went…yeah…life was good.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, rolled my hair into a bun, put on my sunglasses, my jeans and a new linen shirt and breezed out of my house into the God – Damn sunlight.

It felt good to be alive.


To be continued

Ruminator – Part 1

Ruminator. That’s what my bestie…or rather, ex – bestie called me. I liked the sound of it. It kind of rhymed with Terminator. Made me feel bad ass.

I took a swig of beer from bottle number…who knew? I looked over to the left, there was somebody in my bed. I really couldn’t remember who. But he snored which meant that I was out of there. I had a hazy idea of how he landed up there.

NO. I didn’t invite him over. You see, me and a couple of my ..er…my drinking buddies (for lack of a better word) were hanging out. This guy, he said…he wanted to piss so all of us stopped at my place since it was the closest and then carried on to the next bar down the lane…I guess he was so drunk that he passed out on my bed.

Leaving my own apartment to run away from a snorer? Yeah well, I live in a fancy, studio apartment which didn’t have anything precious unless he decided to wreck it while leaving…

I chewed on my lip, scribbled a ‘let yourself out’ note, grabbed my keys and walked out. To where? To my other house which was around twenty minutes away on foot. So I decided to walk. I wasn’t drunk enough not to walk.

Yeah yeah…call me a spoilt, rich daddy’s girl. I wasn’t any of that. I hated my dad and all I had, was from my own hard work. I was a lawyer, currently on sabbatical following a very nasty divorce but hell, I was loving it.

My ex – husband’s house was ten minutes away. God, I hated his guts. He actually had the gall to tell me he still loved me. I’m pretty sure that he did.

I walked slowly, taking an occasional swig from the bottle. He did but it wasn’t of any use. You see, I was damaged goods by the time he & I had started dating.

Yes, I was.

I hadn’t realized that till after the shotgun wedding but anyway…I was home. I wearily climbed into bed and before I knew it, I was asleep.


To be continued…

Festive

In response to today’s daily prompt…marriages in India are treated like a festive occasion. Getting a Henna Tattoo on my hands is one fun part of the overall jing-bang! I got a peacock made on my hand – can you spot it

unnamed

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/festive/

 

 

Starlight

It is beautiful…

Your visage in the starlight…

I’m deeply in love…