Category Archives: Picture It & Write

Picture It & Write!


Every week Ermiliablog host a photograph suggested by contributors and urge people to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image.


Here’s my story:

The Dance!

“Come close.” His husky voice greeted me as I walked up to him. His touch sent a thousand volts current rushing through my body making me numb. Holding me close, he ran his finger down my bare back, stopping right in the middle. Sliding his warm hand inside my dress, he whispered into my ears “Let’s dance.”

My discontent would’ve been pretty obvious as he stood there with a smirk on his face. He was such a tease and he knew that. I succumbed. The spot light turned on with the snap of his finger blinding me completely. Holding my hand tightly, he drew me close to him. In my mind, I was muttering one left and two rights, turn around and slide. The spot light followed us as we moved. His impeccable dance style always stumped me. Barely fifteen minutes into the routine, I was gasping for air. He walked away into the darkness only to return with a bottle of water. Lifting my chin up, he started pouring water into my open mouth. Most of it made me wet instead of quenching my thirst. Racing his finger down from my lips to the chest, he flicked off a drop of trickling water and whispered, almost biting my ear off “Give me the best you have. Let’s begin from the start.”

He threw me up in the air and I let go of inhibition. In that moment, I danced. The dance I never did before. He twirled me and off I went. I felt exhilarated. By the time, the music stopped I was in his strong arms, parallel to the floor. Slowly putting me down, our lips touched and we kissed. Our first kiss. I knew then I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

I was relishing this moment when I heard a thud.


It’s the thud that woke me up. My heart was pounding and hands sweating. This was the third night in a row I dreamt about him. My dance instructor. I turned around only to find my husband snoring oblivious to my presence.

Just then my phone buzzed. “We need to talk.” His message ruffled up my mind with a downpour of thoughts.

Picture It & Write!


Every week Ermiliablog host a photograph suggested by contributors and urge people to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. And every time I’ve written it so happened to turn into a fictional story. But for some reason this pic glared at me differently.

picture it & write

Maimed by our own inadequacies in life, we see the world through a chandelier. It is almost pertinent for our existence to be able to see the glitz and shimmer reflected back upon us. Just as an assurance that everything is the way it should be. Sheer perfection. Like a Picasso painting on a canvas, hanging on the wall. Often times, leads us to live in a make-belief world.

There is a lot of pain in the world. Just because we tend to look the other way, doesn’t mean its non-existence. The truth is sometimes we are so blinded by our pseudo living, we fail to see the stark reality. They say we are defined by our actions. By our choices. By our words. By our thoughts. And yet we speak with such callousness. We act full of animosity and malice. We behave unceremoniously. We commit heinous crimes.

And we judge. Yes, we judge without knowing.

I wrote these few lines from the point of view of a rape victim. The aftermath of a rape. The thoughts that run into a vulnerable mind when she hears stories of how she must have instigated it. How she is silenced to not speak about it to protect herself. It’s a women’s prerogative to walk freely just like a man and yet she can’t. It saddens me that already a rape victim has been through so much and still doesn’t end and comes along the mudslinging and fingers pointing towards her direction for being not civilized enough or not dressed properly or behaved inappropriately which led to her being raped. Such a morbid world.

I may have done no justice to her voice but I hope and pray that we see a new dawn soon when they’d be given the respect they deserve and not be defined by something that wasn’t their fault.


I was naked

Pleading for mercy

I was tamed

It was brutal

I lost myself

He regaled himself

But that doesn’t define me

Or confine my soul

I was untainted

And will always be

It wasn’t my fault

Still suffering is mine

What can I explain to the world

What’s taken from me

You don’t care much

I don’t tell to relive

I exist

Entangled in the web of lies

They say it’s the right thing

To hide my emotions

To mask my being

Prove to me

Yet again

There’s a world

That looks out for me

Ask me

My choice

All I want

Is to

Break free

Picture It & Write!


Every week Ermiliablog host a photograph suggested by contributors and urge people to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image.

picture it & writeHere’s my story:

The Fear!

Soaking herself in the tub she couldn’t stop thinking about today’s conversation.


“You still don’t get it. Do you? I love you. I chose you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. God dammit!” He retorted.

“Ummm.. I.. “ Before she could even complete her sentence, he held her tightly and began kissing her.

“All I know is we can have a life together. A wonderful life just the way you always dreamt of.” He started whispering into her ears.

Distancing herself she adjusted the straps of her dress and started crying profusely.

“Don’t you love me?” He broke the abrupt silence, looking for affirmation.

Wiping her tears and composing herself, she started blabbering “You don’t understand. I’m married to a man who abhors infidelity and seeks pleasure in beating me. I can’t run away from him. He wouldn’t stop looking for us until he kills us both.”

“You have to trust me to keep you safe and wouldn’t let him harm you anymore. All I ask is for you to have faith in me. In us.” He tried to console her but in vain.

She started walking towards the car and heard him at the distance “I’ll wait for you tonight at the train station.”


Sitting here in the tub and staring outside the window she wanted to somehow magically disappear into his arms and feel safe again. She felt alive in his company. He proved to her that there can be love without infliction of pain. But as much as her heart wanted to run away, her head was telling her the only way to keep them both safe was to take his life tonight before leaving, freeing herself of the fear forever.

Suddenly she was shaken up from her thoughts when the door flung open.

“Honey, I’m home!’

Picture It & Write!



She always drew attention with her svelte body and collection of rare diamonds. Women envied her beauty and style whilst her vivacious and charismatic personality had men attracted to her like bees to honey.

Her first taste of real success was at the age of 18, when she won the Miss Universe title. It opened doors once unimaginable. The lure of glitter and glamor introduced her to the world she thought she belonged to. Success came easy and she was living a dream, signing endorsements and big budget movies at parallel. Her only mistake was the belief that it’ll last forever. As they say what goes up must come down. The basic law of gravity. Pretentious friends coupled with some wrong decisions led to her downfall at 30. It was the fastest they’d seen in the recent years. The girl, who lived in a mansion surrounded by friends, today struggled to even pay rent for a studio apartment with no visitors.

Substance abuse created an imaginary world full of pleasures she was seeking desperately in the real world. She felt abandoned and lay there curled up on the cold floor with tears flowing down her cheeks.


* This post is written for a picture posted by Ermiliablog for this week’s Picture It & Write.

Picture It & Write!


Picture it & Write


The first time I laid my eyes on her, she was scattering this multi-colored confetti from the bowl into the air and pirouetting with the girls, encouraging them to do the same. This was her way of revivifying them right before their performance on stage. Her face exuded exceptional radiance which could brighten up even the darkest corners of a room. She was wearing this red sheath dress, accentuating her waist and her burgundy colored hair loosely tied at the back, forcing her to tuck a few strands of hair behind the ear every now and then. Her big, kohl smudged eyes looked like a vast ocean you’d want to dive in. Ever so effervescent she was with a child-like enthusiasm. I couldn’t believe I was checking her out, literally. And in that moment, I knew I could fall in love again. I could experience the joy of life again. The whole idea of being in love all over again made me smile and my heart flutter. She was my daughter’s new Ballet teacher and for the first time in 2 years since my wife’s death, I felt alive again.

It was then that I made up my mind to invite her for the Christmas dinner I was planning with my daughter.


* This post is inspired by the picture Ermiliablog has put for this week’s Picture it & Write.

Picture it & Write!



Story 1: Move on!

She sat there bemused, staring at all these pills lying on the table and wondered if she even knew him. Her eyes still moist from his funeral, this morning, she attended. She was his wife but now felt as if she lived with a stranger all these years, knowing nothing about him. The doctors told her he died of overdose of a concoction of all these pills. Why would he kill himself and leave so many questions unanswered was beyond her understanding. She wondered if their life together was all a façade to hide his inner turmoil. She felt duped. The man she thought she knew would fight his demons and not let them overpower. He failed to confide in her and left her alone to pick up the pieces. She was irate, depressed, helpless and confused all at the same time.

She knew she had to let go and move on but didn’t know how.


Story 2: The Choice!

I sat still, unable to move, staring at all these pills the doctors prescribed to keep me alive for another few months. I realized I had been feeling more fatigued by these supplementary pills added to boost my immune system. They were doing more harm than good. I had a choice to make and the time was now. I could either suffocate staying indoors without letting the cool breeze blow my hair up in the air and the sun shine so strong on me that I look elsewhere or I could live my life, simply doing the things I always wanted to do but for lack of time. It didn’t take much effort or time to choose the latter to free myself of fear and insecurities and let nature take its course.

A new world awaits me and I knew now I am equally eager to embrace it with open arms.


* This post is inspired by the picture Ermiliablog has put for this week’s Picture it & Write.