‘Cooking Me’ For Dummies


Weekly Writing Challenge: A Pinch of You

This week, we want a window into the complexity that is you. We want the recipe for all the bits and pieces and quirks and foibles and loves that make you you.

This is going to be long, brace yourself.


Although my recipethe medoes has flesh as one of its large number of ingredients, it is vegetarian. So, you can expect to find a  , somewhere on my body, although I’d highly recommend that you don’t go searching for it. I simply can’t seem to make a list of all the ingredients that make the recipe. Even the thought of making such an effort is sucking away all the vitamins from me.

*Suddenly, a magnet enters the creation room*
Oh! No! Stop! Stop! Noooo!!! Not my iron, nooooo!
*Magnet escapes with the loot*
Why me! Why is the world so cruel and unfair!

Low on iron, the recipe was going to end up being tall and skinny, being able to both reach for the high apple in the garden of Eden and being blown away by a quiet breeze right before I pluck it. Darn! Someone added fate without my knowledge and I hardly know what effect it will have on the final recipe. Who was it? Is he the one who sent the magnet? Why? 

Later, by a happy accident, philosophy slipped into the cauldron in which raw good and evil were getting cooked at such high temperatures, the solution looked redder than what lava would look like if it was blushing. Although at first it did seem like a happy accident, I soon realized that it would have been better if it happened, maybe, 10 years later. The cauldron has been on flame for only 17 years, that poor thing exploded after philosophy got mixed into it, it was like a burden from then on. I looked at the world with disbelief, the stark diversity of a man’s actions, swinging from extreme evil to extreme godliness.

I needed to heal my wounds after that explosion, which kind of caused people to discriminate me, like an untouchable, although not in the complete literal sense. To be precise, the explosion made me an introvert. I added analytical and factual reasoning to my reality, the science of deduction, as Sherlock Holmes would call it. I saw people make choices, I saw what led to their choices, what the choices made them.  It all made sense. I saw people abuse power, I saw humble people crumble to dust. I saw a writing on the wall. But I am only 20, it all weighed too much upon me. I needed to vent these fumes of restlessness, rage and realization. I needed another world.

And I then added love, faith, hope and trust. This helped the ticking bomb in me stay dormant. Nature was always a part of the recipe, what fellow humans couldn’t contribute to my recipe, nature did and with love. Although, sometimes, her fury would scare the crap out of every living thing. But hey, she is not angry for no reason, she has us humans to deal with. Just beside this cauldron was a kettle in which a mixture of experiences was being boiled. The kettle started rattling fervently. Gosh! What is wrong now. Maybe I have to get some experiences off my heart. So I took out a cup of the contents from the kettle and poured it into a mold called writing. It conjured interesting shapes and patterns, and that gave a little peace to my mind in midst of such a buzzing ambiance.

Writing gave my recipe a new dimension, and only then did I realize how much I needed it. Even before my recipe(the me) was complete, which is going to take 40-60 years depending on the course of action humans take to counter the growing insensitivity in humans and the global warming triggered by them, I was able to visit new worlds through imagination and other manifestations of the burning need to express. So, I soon kind of learned the craft of multitasking. I faded in and out of all these worlds, all the same trying to continue completing my recipe in this world. But sometimes I am lost in thought, wondering if I have to regret not taking the orthodox path to cooking. The general approach of the youth in this world, that seems to have so much energy and fun in it. But the reasons why I chose the path I am currently on quickly surface back to the fore and I continue stirring. But my recipe would be incomplete, no matter how much mastery I learn, if all coal became ashes, if all the water is evaporated and if all the fire was dead. What am I saying? That I need help. Love. Trust. Faith. Freedom. They make up the air I breathe and in their absence, I move to my end quickly.


If you made it this far, visitor, then I bow to you and thank you.

Dinosaurs Are Afraid Of Fireflies


Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall

If you could be a “fly on the wall” anywhere and at any time in history, where and when would you choose? Photographers, artists, poets: show us SNEAKY.


First things first, I had to Google what fly on the wall meant and I liked what I learned.
Definition:

if you say you would like to be a fly on the wall in a certain situation, you mean that you would like to be there secretly to see and hear what happens

It is not unnatural that our minds think sneaky at times. You want to know what people talk behind your back when you are absent, what sort of shallow, jealous rumors they believe and spread. You wish you heard them with your own ears rather than from a third-party who themselves must have added their fair share of unreal spice to the talk. Although being a fly on the wall at such times does meet the requirement of overhearing their conversations, if it was possible, I’d become someone or something that can kick their unethical asses. I’d like to be invovled. But here is an interesting thing, there is this movie called Eega in which the hero gets killed by the villain and he is reborn as a fly and he takes revenge on the villain and reunites with his lost love. Here is a quick scene where the fly sacrifices himself to save the heroine:

And if you insist that I choose a time and place in history, I guess I’d choose the time when humans did not exist, in which case existence of walls seems impossible, ergo the idiom ‘fly on the wall’ wouldn’t exist too.

Anyway, as a soul, I believe all beings have souls, I’d be more free as a fly than as a human being. I think I’d prefer to be a firefly, they are lovely and loved by both adults and children, although it doesn’t matter now that I chose a time period when the frigging humans did not exist.

So the time and place? During the dinosaur period, without doubt and anywhere dinosaurs roamed. But now that I think of, I feel dinosaurs might be afraid of fireflies. Images of dinosaurs jumping up and down scared as a firefly whizzes around its head are amusing. I am smiling.


Please drop off links of your posts if you are writing for today’s prompt, I’d like to come by and read them


Here are posts from other bloggers for this prompt:

  1. Grandma Has Landed | Icescreammama
  2. Daily Prompt: Fly On The Wall | suzie81’s Blog
  3. If Wishes Were Fishes | windandlaughter
  4. Pressed dog. Pressed bone. |
  5. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | flow of my soul
  6. A Photo Drive and a Protest | The Photo Faith Challenge
  7. Sneaky | Books, Music and Movies : my best friends
  8. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Being a Huntress
  9. Sneaky Peeky | clarior e tenebris
  10. Words With Ryon
  11. Daily Prompt – Fly on the Wall | Kate Murray
  12. Dinosaurs Are Afraid Of Fireflies | Black and White Heart
  13. Memorable Tweets from history | DCMontreal
  14. Africa’s tears | The Rider
  15. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall « Mama Bear Musings
  16. Fly on the wall | Geek Ergo Sum
  17. Adolph Shrugged (historical short fiction) | The Jittery Goat
  18. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Retired2Travel
  19. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall « The Blogging Path
  20. Watching From The Wings | Tony’s Texts
  21. The One with the Dynamic Duo | Jackie Cangro
  22. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | iChristian
  23. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Under the Monkey Tree
  24. Sneak-ers [Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall] | unknowinglee
  25. The Ticking Clock: Reversed | Expressions
  26. Fly on multiple walls | Nanuschka’s Blog
  27. Fly on the Wall: The War of the Roses | In diesen Augenblick
  28. Daily Prompt: Supper | One Starving Activist
  29. Guest Blogger: Ruby! | Haiku By Ku
  30. Nazareth | Life is great
  31. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall – I saw three ships a’sailing | SERENDIPITY
  32. Dedicated to the unfinished work | pencil pilot
  33. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall – show us SNEAKY. | masadiso79’s Blog
  34. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  35. A fly in ’41 | tornin2’s Blog
  36. A Fly on the Wall: Eavesdropping on Matters of National Security… Or Not | The Whimsical Circumlocutor
  37. A Cascading Calvacade of Gasconade | Spirit Lights The Way
  38. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Let There be Peace on Earth
  39. Daily Post: Sneaky | Slam on the Brakes, Pull Over, Take the Picture
  40. Blues Haven | Good2begone
  41. Fly on the Wall | The Nameless One
  42. When would you like to live? | MC’s Whispers
  43. Some fine art, great reads, great films and a little zoning out… | thoughtsofrkh
  44. Fly on the Wall: Sneaky Figs | Khana’s Web
  45. I think of how they met | Vampire Maman
  46. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | reyoflight
  47. Evolution | Markovich Arts
  48. Not The Sword But The Pen
  49. Fly on the Wall | The Voice from the Backseat
  50. I would observe William Blake | djgarcia94
  51. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Purple 7 Paper
  52. The Ducky Sneak! | It’s a wonderful F’N life
  53. If only… | I Didn’t Just Wake Up This Morning with a Craving
  54. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | The Daily Post « The World According to Me…
  55. Daily Writing Challenge: Fly on the wall…or guitar | Diary of a quirky girl
  56. What if you could be a fly on the wall? | Okay, what if?
  57. Daily Post: Fly on the Wall | Brianne Writes
  58. Best Laid Plans | Wiley’s Wisdom
  59. Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall | Uncivilized Thinking
  60. Daily Prompt: Fly on Teenage Mama Spaghetti’s Wall | Mama Spaghetti
  61. What Really Happened? | The Lion’s Den

Rhyming Dreams And Dreads


here or there,

no matter where,

there is always something,

rhyming in my head,

and i am glad,

that i can preserve and share.

 

one-two lines,

elate,

emotions intertwined,

tickle and radiate,

colors and shadows,

dimensions, not cared.

chirrups in yonder,

erase world’s distracting buzz,

ah, there! solace.

 

only back home,

do i find inspiration,

and nowhere else,

home,

for me,

is,

closest to nature.

 

i rhyme,

i write,

i go on,

with my dreams,

and dreads,

but,

in rhymes,

and

in them,

lengthy ones,

one as this.

———————————-

.

.

.

Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

———————————-

 

FINDING NEVERLAND


putting his pen aside;
the writer walked to the family who were struggling to fly a kite to its pride;
the widow and her four sons tried until they were tired;

they welcomed the writer’s help;
he gave the kite’s lead to the youngest kid and asked him to run when he heard the yelp;
the kite soared into the sky, helped by the air’s palp;

all rejoiced the moment, he noticed, except one kid;
he was Peter, thoughts and worries he was unable to rid;
the writer knew what he had to do, and did;

he created Peter Pan;
Peter Pan never aged, he flew like a kite and he talked to fairies;
he lived in a fairy world called NEVERLAND.

the writer’s creation brought tears to the whole family;
and forever the writer lived on, as a legend,
whose imaginations started with a kite, which lead to FINDING NEVERLAND.

~ ~ ~

I was inspired by this movie, FINDING NEVERLAND, which is the real life story of J.M. Barrie, who created the famous character Peter Pan. This movie tells about what incidents led to Barrie creating NEVERLAND, a fairy world, which even today is seen as a benchmark by authors for writing and creating fantasy worlds.
This post, reflecting the first of many such incidents which led to the creation of Peter Pan, was very challenging to attempt, but was a great experience. I recommend everyone to watch that movie, a masterpiece for my eyes.

~ ~ ~

Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

Submitted at One Single Impression.

A Sonnet from the Nature’s Bonnet


the aeonian river grows still,

as if expecting the fish she bears home for, will playfully weave the missing splashy waves,

the deer that came for a gulp could sense the river’s chill,

she smiles and winks at the fragile river, the lion that chased her was back to its caves.

 

the archaean trees sway the leaves with a majestic skill,

as if to make the birds and animals around shew their accolades for the conjured octaves.

the seer mage came in search of an abode of peace, this is the place says his psychic will,

sitting back for a never ending penance, his life wields into a moral for knaves.

 

the stellarian sky inked blue with an invisible quill,

as if it is reading out a sonnet written about the forest’s spices and cloves.

the birds flutter high into the sky from yonder, echoing the monotonous trill,

they chirrup in unison to turn all the acrid memories into peaceful laves.