Skip to main content

You Are Invited!

By


Yesterday a very special friend of mine, the mother of a handsome lil boy told me she’d be willing to help me out in case I need anything on my blog. 

Now, I am someone who wouldn’t entrust something as personal as my blog to someone, but then, she was my friend whose writings I simply adore.

I was more than happy to give her an invite to guest post for us at times. She writes such emotional poetry that I can’t help but feel a teeny weeny bit of jealousy spring up in me. 

I really hope she accepts my invitation and would come and write for us J




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

I shared my thoughts with you, it's your turn now :)

Popular posts from this blog

Timeless Tableau, A Twist in The Tale

By
The dinner with her parents went exceptionally well, especially with the surprise they had given her. Her mother came into the room with a steaming cup of coffee, just the way Asha loved. She knew from the aroma wafting from the dining room that her mom had not only settled down and made herself comfortable, she had taken over the kitchen duties and had already prepared a yummy breakfast. The news that her parents would be staying a while with her was by far one of the most pleasant surprises she had received in a long while.
35 comments
Read Remaining »

Phone Number

By
The early morning sun rays kissed her good morning, and she woke up with a smile. Something told her it was going to be a beautiful day. She finished her early morning tasks and offered prayers and thanks to her Lord. Her mum and dad had called promptly in the morning to ask how the meeting went, whether she has taken a decision about Milan, what food she had ordered, her mother hoped she had worn a ‘decent’ dress and asked her again if she made a good impression on him. Frankly, Asha had no clue how to answer to all these queries. She said that they had a good time together, had lunch and an interesting conversation on their way back. Her mother sounded excited when she told her that Milan had come to drop her back home. She could almost imagine her mom’s eyebrows arching up in excitement. It was then that her mom asked her, “So, did you like him?” Now that, was a difficult question. She liked him, yes. But what her mom wanted to know was not whether she liked him or no...
38 comments
Read Remaining »

Dark Secret

By
To say the least, my parents rejected and disowned me when they came to know how I really am. It is not by my free will that I lead a life like this, hiding from the society, never going home, always afraid of being ridiculed or mocked at. It is not my parents’ fault that they live in a coastal village along the western ghats of India where they are still not free to decide what is right and what is wrong for them. Similarly, it is not my fault that I’m like this; this is not a choice I have made.
46 comments
Read Remaining »