Writers Guild!!!

  Ganesha's Birthday Party It was his big day. Ganesha was all dressed up, with garlands and blouses adorning him, listening to some good music while placed on a chariot. Although it happened every year, it just never got old, and Ganesha would cherish the ceremony of him parading through the bustling streets of Isha Armonia Apartments. The chariot was made of wood, but it was hidden underneath the flashy red sari with gold borders and intricate patterns. People pulled the chariot to move around the place. He was seated, like a king, on a high stool, adorned with flowers and a festive vibe, and in front of that, on the sari, mud sculptures of him eating his favorite laddoos, kozhukattais and him playing with his pet rat were placed, decorated with tiny garlands. The boss stopped at every block, and he gave answers to the truthful prayers and gifted the residents holy ash. Water was sprinkled wherever he would go, to make the roads clean for him. Wherever he went, there would be cro...

  A Guide to Simple Living The Minimalist Home by Joshua Becker is a helpful guide for those seeking to declutter their homes. It’s a good read for anyone who wants to live a simpler, clutter-free life. Becker explains how reducing the number of material possessions in your home can give you more peace, time, and freedom to do whatever you want. This book is not just about throwing things away—it is about creating a home that supports the life you want to live. If you have ever felt overwhelmed by too much material stuff, this book is a great place to start. Who Should Read This Book? This book is especially good for people who: Want to begin their journey into minimalism Have started decluttering, but still feel stuck in some areas of the home Need step-by-step guidance instead of just general tips to declutter every part of your home It may not be as useful if you are already an experienced minimalist or if you enjoy working on decluttering...

People often say women are difficult to understand — moody, unpredictable, emotional. But the truth is, men aren’t much simpler. They may not blame their hormones, but their shifting behavior can be just as confusing. One moment, they are protective and kind; the next, they can turn aggressive, intimidating, even dangerous. My own experience a decade ago taught me this lesson in the harshest way possible. And yet, it also revealed how courage and presence of mind can make all the difference when facing danger. It was a blazing summer morning in 2014. The ceiling fans in the gym spun tirelessly, but the air still felt thick and heavy. Shalini was pounding away on the treadmill, sweat dripping down her temples, her breath coming in steady bursts. Around her, women grunted and pushed themselves — some bending into pilates poses, some clanking dumbbells, others stretching on mats darkened by perspiration. The rhythmic whir of machines, the faint beats of workout music, and the acrid smell ...

  QUTUB MINAR Qutub Minar, the tower of victory; The tallest minaret in world history. Right next to a mosque to celebrate The victory of Ghur to make a Sultanate. The mosque is none other than Quwwat-ul-Islam. It's 75 metres tall; This poem is so fun Built by Aibak, Finished by Iltutmish, There's no chance of it getting demolished. It's so cool and big, That's all for my Indian History gig.

  The Witch on the Broomstick By Nilabha Sharma    Mahua’s jangling bangles wakes me up. An alarm clock like no other. As usual, the fan is also switched off. After five minutes of tossing, I give up on sleep and sit groggily on the bed. Sniffling and sweeping, Mahua avoids eye contact.  Fresh new marks mar her face. “Last night, he had too much to drink.” Pointing at her marks, she says “This is the only release he gets after toiling as a laborer the whole day.” Gloomily, she finishes all the chores and sits with me, “Didi! Please talk to him.” She innocently believes that a stern word might end the violence.  As I go about my day, her haunted face lingers in my mind—the stoop of her shoulders, her quiet resignation. My selfish side warns me to stay out of it, but my heart aches at her pain.  It’s 1 am and the doorbell of my flat rings persistently. Drowsily, I open the door. Mahua stands on the doorstep—her tooth broken, face bloodied, one eye swollen shu...

  A DISASTER FOR THE FUTURE I initially was astonished by Hamaguchi Goryo's valiant act of burning his rice sheaves to save his community from an incoming tsunami. What a brave thing to do! However, my admiration evolved beyond that heroic moment as I reread the anecdote, from a singular act of courage to the long-term commitment to a village's safety and hope. A tsunami showed signs of striking on a stormy day, and villagers quickly evacuated, coming back later to see no damage. I feel them; their initial fear dropping to relief. The next line, however, the anecdote tells us that their relief was shattered by the shock of how all wells had run dry. The sudden jolt of contrast gave me a feeling of pity, that they wouldn’t have slept that night with the dawning dread creeping upon them. Action must be taken. That evening, a furious earthquake obliterated and punished the innocent villagers, followed by a grey wall of water speeding to the coast. The hopeless villagers responded ...

  KUNDHAVAI Parantaka Chola, epitome of male beauty his daughter is she. She who built temples and who did philanthropic activity. Rajaraja the Great, his sister is she. She who helped him conquer kingdoms and helped maintain the city. Adithya Karikalan, one with the charred leg, his sister is also she. She who built hospitals and more temples for people to pray and see. Yes! She is Kundhavai. The resilient and dedicated one. The one who exercised freedom, and the one who wasn't dumb. She broke the gates of specific standards. A warrior was she. She taught us how women play a major role in history. Back then they were forged to make alliances; been taught only to sing and dance. She didn't like it and broke the rules and looked away with a glance. She got married to Vandhiyathevan, a Bana, and was asked to be the Bana's queen. She didn't accept it; it wouldn't happen in her dreams. She therefore remained princess of the flourishing Thanjavur. She brought a change to...

Ramoorthy AKA Ram, was a 32-year-old mechanical engineer who became an IT employee in Chennai to please his parents. He also married his wife, Laya, and had a daughter for the same reason. By society's standards, his life was a success. He followed a strict routine: he woke up at 5 a.m., went to the gym, ate four dosas for breakfast, and worked hard at the office until 8:30 p.m., a routine he followed because his parents believed hard work led to success. Despite his seemingly perfect life, Ram felt empty inside. He had never done anything he truly wanted to do. He was an excellent oil painter, so good that his paintings looked incredibly realistic. As he walked home from work one evening, he thought about his past, remembering the art contests he won every year. Lost in these memories, he missed his street and ended up at a dead end with a large peepal tree and a circular bench. Exhausted, he sat down to rest. While he was sitting, he noticed an old saint in a saffron robe staring...

Early in the morning, the sun had just started to rise. Fog covered the big lotus pond like a soft blanket. In the quiet water, a small wooden boat moved slowly. Four young Buddhist monks sat inside, each wearing a saffron robe. Tenzing, the youngest one, was sitting in front with an alms bowl , beginning his spiritual journey . They were chattering and smiling widely when crossing through the long stems of the lotus flowers , often seen as a symbol of inner peace and mindfulness . “I still don’t see why we couldn’t just meditate under the banyan tree meditation spot ,” muttered Tenzing, the youngest, sitting in the front with an alms bowl, with uncertainty. “Because the pond listens,” replied Mingma, the eldest, with his eyes closed. “And sometimes, when you row in silence, the world speaks back.” He said, hinting at the importance of mindfulness and stillness in Buddhist teachings . Their master, Lama Kung, had given no instructions that morning. He just instructed them to row the...

The balcony was littered with the jetsam and flotsam of the household. It included amongst other odds and ends, a chipped glass photo frame, a grey rectangular clutch with a permanent gape, a handicapped high chair, an abraded gas regulator and a cracked pale green plastic bucket without a handle. This heap was being inspected by the landlady of the house. Manohar, the domestic help, was sitting obediently, on his hunches next to the heap.  “ Bhaiyya ( Elder Brother), How much will the scrap dealer pay for this?” Her outstretched hands pointed to the discarded heap. Manohar forced a sarcastic smile on his face. “Memsahib (Feminine version of Master), It is we who will have to shell out something to entice the dealer to lift this garbage.”    The landlady's face dropped upon hearing the verdict. Manohar took this as a cue to conclude the inspection. Manohar bundled the odds and ends into a plastic gunny bag, secured its mouth with a discarded jute thread and shouldered awa...

Yamraj stepped out of the Boardroom drenched in sweat. The Board of Gods was not pleased. His job was on the line if the exponential population growth was not restricted. He made his way down to Yamlok. It was eerily quiet. All the doots were out in the field. Only Chitragupta sat hunched in his cubicle, eyes glued to his screen, fingers clattering away. Yamraj sank into the chair beside him, staring blankly at the data. The numbers… were not good. “Arre Sir!” Chitragupta said cheerily. “I’ve just sent you the updated sheet. We’re inching closer to the target!” Yamraj didn’t respond. He needed to debrief Chitragupta — the Board had revised the death quotas. Upward.     “Gupta ji,” Yamraj began heavily, “when are the doots back? I need to address the team. The targets have been revised.”     Chitragupta blanched. “Revised numbers Sir? No, no, no, that cannot be. With all these new innovations in medicine and healthcare, we are struggling to meet the targets and on top...

  The winter break had cast a serene silence over the Banaras Hindu University campus. Most of the students had left for their hometown in the winter break.Ishita Bhardwaj, a second-year student in Zoology, had chosen to stay back in her SK Girls' Hostel, despite her parents' urging her to visit them  during the winter break in their new hometown in Madhubani district. Her parents had recently relocated due to her father's job posting, and Ishita was hesitant to visit the new, smaller town with fewer facilities. She was excited to experience the less crowded and quieter version of the hostel life, but she also knew that the silence and emptiness would be a stark contrast to the usual bustle., As she lay in her cozy bed, surrounded by the quiet of the hostel, Ishita felt a sense of freedom. Her two roommates had left for their parents' place, and she had the entire room to herself. But on the chilly night of December 23rd, Ishita woke up at 2 am, feeling irritated ...

  20th May, 1976. 10a.m. The train stopped with a whistle and a jolt at the Old Delhi Railway Station Among the many passengers who alighted was our Sitara Bua, a 70-year-old woman with a tall and well-built frame, dressed in a crisp cotton saree. Her moony face radiated a glow that left many guessing her age. Her appearance also defied her nature. Gossiping was her hobby, money - food for her soul, creating discords in homes - her passion. Bua looked around for known faces, but found none. She clearly remembered her brother, Ram Kumar, telling her on phone – Bebe (sister). Don’t worry, Narendra would be waiting at the station. The absence of her nephew made her angry, and the thought of spending her own money on travel further infuriated her. A scrooge never spends out of one's own pocket. As she stood there lost, a coolie offered to carry her belongings and take her to the tonga stand for a small amount of Rs 5.  But Bua was outraged. For her the amount to carry a trunk, 2 s...

  Glancing sideways at the green glass bangles adorning his wife Sandhya’s wrists, Prashant Sharma felt a surge of rage r eturn to  his body.  All his frustrations were being  directed at the harmless bangles these days.  That Sandhya would be the right kind of partner for him was decided by his  parents, as  was his studying science and then  engineering, fasting  on  Tuesdays, visiting  the temple on Saturdays and of course, having a child after 3 years of being married.    Initially, married life had been harmonious, even happy but over course of time Prashant grew tired of explaining to Sandhya the concept of modern   day companionship.  Understandable  that  her conservative upbringing prevented her from being on board with  all  his  ideas,  but she didn’t have to be so rigid either. Refusing to accompany him to any parties, trying new cuisines or even taking those annoying gre...