small stone jan '13 - day 30

The long whistle of the afternoon train
turns into a breeze, parting the tall meadow grass.
I stretch my toes, take the clutch off my hair.

small stone jan '13 - day 28

Temple shadows. Pigeon coos.

The scattered petals.

The cold stone floor.

One flame burning bright.

small stone jan '13 - day 26

For breakfast today, I make a three-tier sandwich.And for lunch,
a three-colored  raita (yogurt with carrot and cucumber) to go with the pulao.
.But for dinner, i run out of ideas.

Hence , I go out and buy 

pista-kesar (pistachio and saffron) ice cream for dessert.

It has all three colors...green, white and saffron...of the Indian flag.

Because it's Republic day!
And what better way to celebrate than with food?

small stone jan '13 - day 25

We are already in the final week of mindful writing. And I am happy that at last I am up-to-date with my daily stones.Not so with He doodles, you ku, though; where I still have backlog, but I am keeping my fingers crossed and hoping to start February and The NAHAIWRIMO with a clean slate.

Anyway, to today's post without further ado...

writing a stone...

 A caterpillar clambering up the leaf of the spider lily.

small stone jan '13 - day 24

Glint of sunlight on the windows of the steel-and-glass mall.

Fragrance of sunlight on the yellow mustard fields

just behind it.

small stone jan '13 - day 23

Turning the hose on, he bathes the lawn

with all seven colours of rainbow.

small stone jan '13 - day 21

In my dream, we are swimming.

Dad calls out to us from the shores.

small stone jan '13 - day 20

Three red apples in the fruit bowl on the table

by the window. A finger of sunbeam creeping towards it 

stealthily.

small stone jan '13 - day 19

Gleaming brass water pots...one on top of the other...are balanced perfectly on her head. Another one nestled at her waist. Yet she walks so gracefully on the  uneven pebbled path. Not a drop spills over.  As we drive past, I catch a glimpse of her callused hands and grey hair.

small stone jan '13 - day 18

The sparrow has been at it since morning...pecking continuously at the window pane , trying to find a way in.Or maybe, it thinks that's the way out.

The bulbuls are smarter though.Throwing caution to the wind, they sit on the vine-covered wall,feasting on the small pink berries, totally regardless of the fact that they are being watched by three pairs of eyes from the other side of the glass.They know this sheet of glass binds us, not them.

small stone jan '13 - day 17

Wind shimmer. Miles and miles of sugarcane fields...

the fluffy swaying plumes silvered by sun.

small stone jan '13 - day 15

Before sunrise, the dewy-eyed, luminous, lime-green grass

waiting for the first bare feet.A sleepy bug

crawls under the chickweed.

small stone jan '13 - day 14

Inside, the loud ticking of the old clock.

Outside, the woodpecker trying to nail down

the afternoon shadows on the tree bark.

small stone jan '13 - day 13

coffee dregs
darkening
our conversation

small stone jan .13 - day 10

Tinkle of crockery. The soundlessness of tea being poured.

Crackle of newspaper. The contented sighs after the first sip.

And then the phone rings...

small stone jan '13 - day 9

The curtains part-
I inhale a day
which I'm not
a part of

small stone jan '13 - day 8

dinner at nine

followed by the pills,

then the TV show-

the winter night stretches on

endless and nowhere to go

small stone jan '13 - day 7

Mid-morning quiet-

suddenly I am alone

with the green butterflies

small stone jan '13 - day 6

Moments, moments, moments. In all hues at all hours. Yet I fail to hold to any of 

them long enough to sculpt a stone out.

Exasperated, I go for a walk in the backyard.

stopped dead in the tracks-

the black cat whose path

I crossed