A bottleful of singing nymphs

The day before I was out on my weekly expedition, exploring the Sahara desert (see O’ Shine! I have been there.) 

Well, I can’t really call it exploring. I was on a secret mission for the local vampire community. They were in acute need of unicorn poop (come closer, let me tell you a beauty secret: they use it as a face mask to keep their skin crispy clean and fresh. Contact me if you need some.) 

Now, I know even daredevils like me die in the great desert, so I took precautions. I finally bought a tube of sunscreen, a pair of kickass round silver sunglasses and I brought along M (he is the one behind the blog mcos). Just in case I did get buried under the sand or become a wrinkled prune due to dehydration or a handsome ancient Egyptian discovered a time machine and were so smitten by my beauty that they decided to preserve it forever by making me a mummy, then he could fight them and bring back my body for a proper funeral. Plus he had expressed interest in finding unicorn poop when we first met. So I let him tag along.

Out on the mission, in the middle of nowhere, lying prone on the afternoon sand, roasting ourselves alive, we were scanning the area for any evidence of the black one horned mythical creatures. “I’m thirsty. Could you pass me the water bottle please?”, M asked. 

You would think that I’m a fool, if I tell you that I forgot to bring one myslef. To be honest, I can live without water up to thirty-eight days, tried and tested. But M being not as awesome as me, needed water. Shocking, right? 

I reached out for his pack lying by my side and fished out the bottle. About to pass it to him absentmindedly, a tiny glint caught my eye. I looked around  thinking I had found a unicorn but there was the same barren landscape that blinked back at me.

M looked at the bottle and gasped. Each and every inch of the water within was embedded with twinkling bubbles. I have proof see…


But that was not all. Curious, we looked closer. Focused at just the right point the bubbles turned out to actually be millions of water nymphs.


I know you guys, like M don’t have my centuries worth of experience. So believe me when I tell you that they are very, very very rare beings, found in water bottles since the beginning of civilization. They dwell only in deserts when the bearer of the bottle has no other water supply.

The nymphs started dancing and celebrating when they saw me. They were old friends, you see. We had first met a long time back when they used to live in wine bottles. Recently they had decided to quit alcohol.

“Shh! Keep it quiet guys,” I said. “You will scare away the unicorns.”

Through a scintillating musical number they told me that they would not, because the unicorns were having a party over at the northern oasis.

But M, being the scientific mind that he is, couldn’t believe that I was talking with mythical water nymphs. He took the bottle and tilted it this way and that. Against the sunlight…


Stuffed it in his bag and examined them under torchlight…


“Look at the sparking droplets on the top.” He said, pointing towards the neck of the bottle. “I have never seen condensed water glitter in so many colors.”


“Yes, that is just your torchlight reflecting off the water beads. Not everything is magic. Now come on lets go. The unicorns are in the north.”

To cut the story short, after three nights worth of travelling, surviving on scorpion meat, a century worth of gossip with my friends – the nymphs – and arguing endlessly with M over the color of unicorn poop, we finally reached the northern oasis where the party was still in full swing. 

It was not very difficult to ask a drunken unicorn to defecate in a bucket. I was right by the way,  unicorn poop is rainbow colored, not dark as M had suggested. 

Picking up our bucket we were almost through the desert when a giant troll suddenly materialized before us. He glared at me, then at my precious bucket and was about to attack.

Survival instincts soon kicked in and I pushed M in front me and ran away as fast as I could.

He called yesterday to tell that he was still fighting and it will probably take a few days for him to like this post. Don’t blame me, he had volunteered to go along. 

Via: the daily post’s weekly photo challenge: shine, h2o. (yes, I took those pics myself. And yes, nymphs are real)

One more important thing: I would like to thank PoojaG for nominating me for The Sunshine Blog Award. Thank you so much.


Aww! I am loved (awards)

A gazillion thanks to my blogging family for their support and love. When my baby blog was born, I had never thought anyone would pay it any attention, but here I am now with 101+ followers and so many creative friends from a diverse palette of cultures.

Keep spreading your beauty all over the world.

Time for the replies I promised…

LIEBSTER AWARD:                                      

Jen (rules for the nominees) was kind enough to nominate me for this award. 

Thank you and please visit her blog if you don’t want to miss her magic in action. Her questions are:

1. If you will a WP award, what would you be and what would be your mechanics?

#the bee award; do some kind deed(s) for two days and post what you did. Nominate two people each day. No exaggeration, no lying.

2. If you got turned into a holiday, how would the world celebrate you?

Carnivals, free chocolate, parties with friends, gifts, total freedom and worldwide ban on studying for a day.

3. What fictional world would you like to live in and why?

‘The secret garden’ as my reading nook, ‘Twenty thousand leagues under the sea’ to sail underwater in a glass submarine.

4. Have you ever stalked anyone and if so, what were your stalking techniques?

Does searching my past crushes on fb count?


I wake up every day like this. Just kidding.

I would check the ventilator and other lines supporting my real brain-dead body. After all a wandering soul needs a new body then I would go pee.


Make him sing.


Invite her in, have a pajama party, gossip and pack for the moors.


Buy a catapult and aim the little birdie at the nearest dustbin (don’t booo, it’s a cartoon.)

9. Choose which halloween costume you will wear this year?


No Halloween here, but if I could then ‘suicide squad.’


With my best friend. A picnic in the blue and green world because we understand each other’s silence.

My nominees are: OShaggy re , diiwanna , O Shine Original 

Please answer the same questions as I did ( in Q 5 &6, interchange the images if you want and in Q 9 choose any costume from the whole wide world.)


Received, thanks to Jasmine (rules for nominees) who posts wonderful book reviews and recommendations. All you book lovers, go say hi to her.

1. Do words come easy to you when you start to write a blog post or book reviews?

Sometimes yes, mostly no. I have to sit and think for hours.

2. How do you manage your time? reading, working, commenting, blogging and life.

Blogging takes place in the voids of my day; an empty second here and there. Reading occurs as bursts of obsession and compulsion for complete days until I finish the book. Life is everything bundled together.

3. Do you like to travel? Sightseeing?

Yes, I like to travel but I haven’t had a chance to do much of that. Maybe someday…

4. What book are you currently reading?

Snell’s clinical anatomy (not a novel.)

5.  Do you carry a book with you everywhere?

Yes! Yes! Yes!

6. What is your favorite color?

Green gives me peace, Orange happiness and white, a place to create.

7. Do you do adult coloring?

I make paintings (like the header image here) but I don’t think I would enjoy a coloring book; need to make my own lines.

8. Do you go to restaurants judging by the look on the outside or friend’s recommendations?


9. What is your second favorite after reading?

Painting, writing, daydreaming, annoying my brother and parents, fighting with my friends, diy crafts.

10. Do you fall asleep while reading?

Yup, all the time.

11. Who is your book crush?

Mr. Darcy (#blushing.)

My nominees are: Piratepatty , marple25mary  , Jen’s magic, AlphaAri

Please answer the same questions that I did, if you choose to accept.


Thanks for this goes to Rohit and Madhumita (rules for nominees) who have curated a wide array of things from photographs and quotes to lists of bizarre facts.

How my blog started: On a sleepless night at one a.m. while watching a rerun of sex and the city series I decided to copy my friend (utopianweb) and create a blog and see what happens. It has now become a place where I can experiment and learn and see if anything I write is even worth reading.

My advice to new bloggers: don’t chase followers. Open your heart, liberate your spirit and write anything and everything.

My nominees: pooja g , secontymblogger , Josh (chai and biscuit)


Namitha from teenmemoir  kindly nominated me for this award.

Seven random facts about me are:

1. At the age of 17 I owned a set of real human bones, to study in first year of med school.

2. I still use a handkerchief.

3. I and my roommate have had a real paranormal encounter.

4. Nearly fainted my first time observing an operation. It was an amputation (of the little toe.)

5. Been in an earthquake.

6. Seen a venus transit.

7. If I see good veins I want to put an i/v line in it.

My nominees are: Arjun shivaram , ramblings of a bored teenager , southern by design , Luna wanderings

3 DAY QUOTE CHALLENGE: I thank OShaggy re (who will tell you why you should pee in the pool) and arjun shivaram (a talented young writer) for the nominations.  

No one is under any obligation to accept. But should you choose to accept then the rules of the awards are posted on the respective links of the bloggers who nominated me, above.

Thank you to the brave and curious souls who read this till the end.

War! War! War!———–War!

Today my dearies I have attained enlightenment. I am blissfully one with the world. The reason for my current state is a cooking show I saw in the morning. They made oats with orange, it’s zest, raw cocoa beans, honey, chocolate bark and some more goodies; yum, yum , yum…( salivating)

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”

-The folks over at goodreads say this was by Albert Einstein. I’ll confirm this with him later. My Ouija board is a bit dusty.

Yes; this is a story not an essay.

Ever since the day the miracle of opposable thumbs was bestowed upon our hairy hominid predecessor, they found full use of the grip thus developed to hurl stones at competing mates. Later as humanity entered its infancy, tools and arrow heads were chiseled out of those stones and again hurled at enemy tribes.

You know the rest; swords and rifles, press a button and boom goes the missile; just war, war, war. We have always loved guts and blood.

Nuclear weapons were in vogue in the recent past. The concept was basically to hoard as many nukes as possible and when the time is right just detonate them on the same planet both the fighting parties live on. To emphasise the point, I have made an awesome sketch below (took me hours.)


But realizing and accepting the idiocy of our methods took great courage. This is the future. We have ditched those obsolete technologies and found a better way to fight, with full use of thumbs of course.

‘Welcome to World War III,’ the handsome young guy with mike announced.

“Oh, just give me my mike back,” the host shouted snatching it and kicking the guy off the stage.

“Welcome to World War III. Respected Presidents please follow your guides and proceed to the Combat Room and no don’t; President Mambi please, no more eye poking.”

The herd of black and white penguin suited presidents with their bodyguards followed the pretty girls beaconing them forward to enter the aforementioned Combat Room where another announcer greeted them.

“Welcome angry world leaders. For the past few months you have all wanted to rip each other’s throats apart. But the great thinker Confabler pointed out the errors in your ways and proposed a method to resolve conflicts with no violence. Generations to come will remember this historical moment and thank her for it. No more unnecessary deaths. Let the population grow happily in peace until we exhaust our resources and migrate to Mars. Everyone please be seated.”

All the Madam and Mr. Presidents then planted their butt cheeks on the soft plushy cushions of the couches in their respective flag’s colors.

“This is a Real Time Strategy video gaming war. The rules are:

1. You have all been given six months time with beginners’ instructions to develop your army and base.

2. Fight each other’s armies online and conquer their base.

3. A country is victorious only if the fluorescent green victory flag is hosted on the enemy’s headquarters.

4. The result announced by the mediator is final and non-negotiable. Don’t try to kill him if the outcome is not in your favor.

5. A peace treaty will be signed for the next hundred years between the conflicting nations after the results.

6. You may form alliances with each other in the game and multiple parties of winning alliances may win.

7. Only the presidents themselves will compete against each other; representing their countries. Opponents will be chosen on the basis of which countries they hate the most.

8. Bodyguards or anyone else will not help the presidents in any manner.

9. Chips and coke are provided to each and every nation in equal amount and of the same quality. Don’t fight over them. We have a bunker full of them.

10. Check your bladders. No bathroom breaks once the games start.

11. You may fight with as many nations as you wish. Go crazy.

12. Last thing: the game can’t be hacked. Please tell your hackers to stop trying to break into our system otherwise you will lose by default.

If you have any doubts or trouble please contact our seventeen year old technical advisers.

May the Gods bless your thumbs.

Welcome to the future. Welcome to World War III 2017.”

Day 3 of 3 day quotes challenge as nominated by fauxcroft. Thank you for the nomination and don’t forget to visit his/her place if you haven’t already.

Mr. Einstein left a lot of room for imagination.

If you like my idea, then please raise your voice so that we may fight our wars without real bloodshed. This will promote the development of artificial intelligence to improve our gaming experience. The machines will one day take over and start killing humans. Then we will move to Mars.


Pic credits: pixabay

The Twin Pools Of Mermaids

“Ever let the Fancy roam,

pleasure never is at home”

-From Fancy by John Keats (a surgeon by training and a poet by heart)

Now here is my story inspired by the colorful imaginations of the great poet:

Ancients say there are two pools, conceived together in the early days of inception. In a forest deep and dark, veiled by the fluttering skirts of white veined leaves, they laugh, they sing an enchanted song; the twin pools of mermaids.

A forgotten lullaby, sweet and sour, with tears three mermaids sing; daring wandering mortals to drown in the waters, one mucky, one deep.

They say the place is sacred. Pilgrims of mind visit it often, for the twins hold secrets. In their depths the stars once twinkled, the first seeds grew, seasons changed and fire long ago was found. The twin pools of mermaids, they hold every thought of the time that is past and of the ages to come.

The silent mucky water in one cradles sleeping thoughts; woken when whimsy dies.

In coral water of the other we bathe when the mind just won’t stop.

The mermaids are kind but they sometimes kill. The forest conceals it all; in its bosom are two pools…

But I wonder; am I right or wrong?

“Was it a vision or a waking dream?

Fled is that music:-

Do I wake or sleep?”

-Quote from ‘Ode To A Nightingale’ by John Keats.

This was day two of the three day quote challenge.

I thank you, fauxcroft for the nomination and for the lovely poems you share.

For when you cry…

Welcome my fellow minions! I have been asked to quote so here I quote with a little story:

“Before I got my eye put out

I liked as well to see-

As other creatures, that have eyes

And know no other way-“

– Emily Dickinson

The entire poem carries a different interpretation; in more of an aesthetic sense originally but my frail attempt to mould the first stanza into my own understanding of the world goes thus:


The husband and wife stood outside in their driveway arguing.

“You should have at least asked me. But noo, you had go and spend all our money on that stupid scheme of yours,” shouted the wife, following her husband to his car.

“Our money? Our money! I earn that money. I work hard for that money, scurrying around like a dog all day and you just sit and enjoy the comforts I provide. It’s not our money. It’s my money. I’ll do whatever I want with it.”

“Is that so? I sit around all day, huh? Then who the hell do you think keeps the house clean and working. Who makes sure you don’t starve? Who takes care of the kids, you?”

“Oh, not you definitely! The servants do everything. You just shout at them all day; do this, do that.”

“If that is so easy, then why don’t you it a try one day. Let’s see if you can make those lazy bums do anything.”

“Whatever. I don’t have to ask for your permission for everything. It’s my money and I’ll do as I please. Remember your place, you are my wife not my owner.”

She stood dumbfounded. Had he actually said ‘remember your place, you are my wife.’ What on earth did that even mean? ‘Remember her place.’ She was his wife, not an errant employee who had stepped out of line.

The snap of his car door brought her back.

“I know it won’t work out. Your idiotic scheme. I just know,” she shouted back just in time as he reversed his car and flew away in anger.

“And then you’ll lose everything, all your money.”

An unwelcome spasm of sadness threatened to burst through her eyes as she stood alone in front of the white marble covered arched entryway of her house. But not yet; she steeled herself. Not in front of everyone, not in front of the servants. The betrayal, the belittlement she felt was private, not a public display for the help.

With a quivering lower lip masked by an expression of superior indifference she walked through the house quickly to reach her room, never once lowering her eyes to meet a daring glare.

They would gossip she was sure but for now she didn’t care. She collapsed on the floor near the foot of her bed and let the tiny drops rain down her cheek; silently at first, afraid that anyone could hear. But did it really matter? She thought as sobs of moist loneliness consumed her heart. She felt empty, like a wooden puppet. Did he really think so little of her? She had always caught a hint of dominion in his manner but isn’t that how all men are?

‘I am his wife’ she had always said with a tender pride; ‘You are my wife’ he had spat with a contemptuous command.

A soft patter of steps outside her room broke her musings. She looked up with tear filled eyes to find a little girl looking at her from behind the half closed door. Upon seeing that she had caught her attention the little one ran away.

Those urchins! She cursed. She had specifically asked the servants not to bring their kids to the house after the vase breaking incident a year ago. God knows how carefully she had to watch them lest someone pocket a trinket or two. No one could trust the maids already; they were forever in search of an opportunity.

With reluctance she made the decision to get up and close the door but before she could the little girl returned. Putting one unsure foot in front of the other she approached and presented her misery crusted self with a red rose plucked fresh from the garden.

With a soft smile the little one said,” You are so pretty mistress. Please don’t cry.”

And just like that the worthless became valued and the valued worthless.


A many thanks to fauxcroft for his/her kind nomination for the three day quote challenge. Do visit the site to climb the poignant constructs of poetry residing there.


I will be waiting to hear how you all found this piece.

Picture credit: pixabay