Monday, September 18, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - The Finale

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Click To Read Episode Nine

I can not fathom how much I ran. Neither do I remember rushing by the evening tide, panting for breath, nor can I recollect the moment I fell asleep from weariness. However, when I opened my eyes, something felt new. Different. Good. In fact, I felt happier, the reason oblivious to me, but a sudden sense of excitement had overpowered me. My gait seemed to have suddenly awaken from a long bout of slumber, and all the exuberance of the world seeped into me.

And then, out of nowhere, the skies turned black, the land turned muddy, and I found myself drowning in utter confusion. My paws struck a solid ground, but before I could hold on to it, I realized my nose was melting, my eyes squinting, and my face rapidly turning into a cat. I shrieked.

I woke up a second time. Phew, what a nightmare! I shook my head, itched my tail, and looked around. The sun was sinking behind the mountains, revealing an aura of divine colors. Wait! Mountains? How did mountains come into this city? I have never seen mountains here before.

And then, from the horizon, I could see a faint trail, a line of dust sliding nearer and nearer. I stood rooted at the spot, ready to run in case of any danger. As the vision cleared out, I noted that the formation was none other than a large conglomeration of chihuahuas, walking in groups, the total number way beyond a few hundreds, or perhaps even thousands.

The leader of the group stopped before me, and greeted, "Woof! Welcome to the land of chihuahuas."

I was astounded. Where was I? "I have never heard of such a land before," I expressed my dilemma.

The leader smiled, and said, "That's because you never sought for this land earlier. You have always been engaged with your mistress, her house, her demands, not realizing that you too have a life of your own. You have enveloped your dreams all this long, the time has now come to open the letters. This is your life. You are free. Your will is your desire, and your ambitions define the path you take. Just like the path towards your left. I hope you will love it."

I looked towards my left, and was met with both shock and surprise. There, right in front of my eyes, was a large patch of watermelons. Ripe, and juicy, and green. Watermelons of all sizes, varieties and types.

I slurped.

"Go on," the leader laughed, "this is your world. Live your life to the fullest, and yes, welcome to our group. From now on, we will all share our smiles and tears, sadness and happiness, success and defeat. We are the inhabitants of this land, the land of chihuahuas."

I leaped towards the watermelons, not knowing from where to start. I was on cloud nine. I wished this wasn't a dream that would get broken in a couple of hours. Or perhaps it was.

But until then, I would relish this part of my life. For now this was my reality - me and my watermelon diaries.

Woof! Woof!

The End !!! 

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Nine

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Click To Read Episode Eight

The knock was loud, and the third one broke the door.

Three policemen barged into the house, revolvers held firmly. They looked right, then left, and then again right, and walked briskly towards the rooms. I, behind the shadowy confines of the living room sofa, recognized two of them.

"Ma'am, stand up!"I heard a booming voice coming from the kitchen. Probably, that's where my mistress was hiding, but her cover had been ruined. There were a few rapid whispers, probably conversations over a mobile phone, and in a couple of minutes, two lady officers made their way inside.

"Please, I am innocent. I didn't rob the bank," I heard my mistress pleading.

"Ma'am, we never said we are here for you. We are looking for a dog, a young chihuahua. However, you made it clearer, instead. What makes you think we suspect you of robbing the bank?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then, my mistress's wail zoomed into the air.

"Please, forgive me. I was helpless.I made the mistake. But I had no other option," she cried.

"And may I know why there was no other option?" an officer asked, mimicking her.

"I...I didn't want my chihuahua to get the money."

Her words felt like a bolt of lightening. I have served her for so long, been her companion since months, and yet, this is how she behaved? She used to say she loved me. Then, why all of a sudden she didn't want me to have the money?

And how did she know I was planning to rob the bank?

A lady police officer echoed my thought, and asked her the same question.

"I actually saw him roaming round the bank since the last few days. He was very observant, looking at every nook and corner, the windows and doors. I suspected that since I didn't pay him to buy the watermelons, he might take this route. And look, wasn't I right? If he had the money, he would become indisciplined, and no longer obey my orders." she tried to reason.

"Sir! Sir! We found the money. It was hidden under the mattress." I heard a voice filled with excitement hurrying across the bedroom.

"Ma'am! You are under arrest. You broke the law, robbing a public bank, looting the money deposited by citizens of this country, causing inconvenience to the society. Plus, you didn't let your pet have his watermelons, which made the innocent creature plan of such an extreme step. You have to come with us to the police station."

Tears welled in my eyes. My heart broke a hundred pieces, each of them cracking again in a thousand ways. She was my family. This was once my home. Now, no more. I was alone, all over again.

Through my mist stained eyes, I ran out of the door, as fast as I could, to escape from myself, and from this bitter truth.

Monday, September 11, 2017

The Sapling

the sapling could grow no more
however hard I tried
the stems broken, the roots uprooted
I feared it might have died

I bent down, unearthing the core
the soil swept out of pot
then I planted the sapling back
hoping the leaves no longer rot

watering it day after day
nourishing under the sun
the sapling was all I had
my weary soul's companion

I spoke with it, at length
and hours would pass so soon
now I get no answers back
the green have started to swoon

who could damage a being so quiet
whose tears too have no room
the sapling stooped towards the dust
losing amidst the blue of moon

the sapling could grow no more
however hard I tried
wrinkled, broken, and deeply withered
it gave up before it cried

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Sunday, September 03, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Eight

By the time it was noon, I returned home, only to be greeted by my mistress's sharp words.

"Where were you all of yesterday? I had to buy four mangoes, two peaches and six bananas myself."

I went and sat besides her. That's what I always did, whether she was in happy mood or foul. I didn't know where else to go. This has been my home since long.

She patted my back and I licked her feet. The familiar scent greeted my nostrils, but, there was something different. I could sense the blocks amiss. What was fate hinting at?

I focused, and recollected the events of the past few hours. The bank, the empty vault, arrival of police, and me sniffing the ground, acting innocent.

There! Like a bolt of lightening it struck me. Hard! A little too hard for my liking.

Before I could assemble my thoughts, and complete the puzzle, I heard the sharp wail of siren. It was the Police Car. It could only mean one thing.

I have been chased all this while.

I panicked. I didn't want to go back to that jail. They didn't serve any watermelons there. I scurried for cover, behind the shoe rack, underneath the cupboard, beneath the bed. However, my confusion turned into conviction as I saw my mistress too going through a similar palpitation. She was sweating profusely, was running helter skelter, and muttering, "Why is the Police coming? Have they found out? Oh My God?"

It all became clear now. The scent, the bank, and home.

The puzzle had completed itself.

Click To Read Episode Nine

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

DeoRebon: All About CintholDeo Stick

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Cinthol, a brand with legacy, has continued to reinvent itself with the changing times. The market scenario has changed a lot. With it Cinthol too has upgraded with their soaps formulation, product mix and packaging which suits the need of new generation consumer. It has introduced an all new range of soaps, talcs, deos, deo stick, deodorant for men and shower gels in different varieties with colorful packaging. It’s a brand which today's youth can relate to.

Cinthol has launched its deostick for men which is soft on the skin and has three times lasting effect when compared to others. Thus, it becomes an automatic choice for most.

Cinthol rush deo promises safety to the skin, and doesn't contain alcohol. It can be used for long lasting fragrance that will make one feel good about himself.

Cinthol provides deo stick online, an easy way to get the pack loaded with freshness. As a brand, Cinthol has already set a benchmark. With these innovative products, it promises to further deliver as per consumers' needs.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Lavender Musk

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Seven

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Click To Read Episode Six

Cats have always been sinister, spreading notoriety with their nine lives, but today, I was grateful to them.

"Here, check this out," my feline inmates pointed towards a brick in the wall. It looked ordinary, like all the other grayed out bricks, but it turned out to be different when one of them walked towards it and said "Meow!"

Instantly, the brick disappeared, leaving an opening, wide enough for me to get out.

" did you do this?" I was shocked. This was magic!

"We cats can do anything. Now go. It's late in the night, and this opening leads to a tunnel straight out of the prison compound. You will escape unhurt."

"But how did the brick disappear?" I asked, dazed, "and why are you still staying in prison when you can move out any time?"

"You ask too many questions," the older one said exasperated. "Who said we are stuck here all day and night? We go out whenever we want, and return when we are hungry and need some safe place to rest. And regarding our magic, well this is your story. Let our story be part of another diary. Now go, go, run."

I leaped out of the opening, through the tunnel, and within a few minutes, was breathing the fresh aroma of freedom. I relieved myself behind a dense bush, and closed my eyes. It was dangerous to wander in this dark, and I thought it would be best to wait till day break. I yawned, my eyes droopy, and I slept.

I dreamt of all things weird. There were butterflies hovering over my head, laughing at me, and then suddenly they turned into watermelons. One, two, three, the watermelons dropped over my head.

"Ouch!" I woke up. The sun was high. Probably I had slept for too long, something which my tired body desired. Now was the time to spring back into action. I had to find the culprit.

I licked my paws, and ran across the streets.

Click To Read Episode Eight

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Six

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Click To Read Episode Five

Story Ahead ...

I was in jail. This wasn't something to be proud of, but it was a different experience altogether, and hence, the thought - "I am in jail!". My cell, or cage, was brown in colour, with patches of stains all over the wall. There were two more animals in the same cell, both of them feline creatures, a species I hate. They stared at me from the other corner of the room, and whispered among themselves.

I closed my eyes and counted till ten, took a deep breath, and counted again till ten, this time in reverse. Being with cats irked me. Firstly, they lacked manners. They did what they wanted to, without thinking of others. Secondly, they spoiled stuffs, milk, and eggs, and rice puddings, and most often even my watermelons. I hated them.

And thus I kept to my corner. Quiet.

"Did he really rob the bank?"

"He is too tiny. How will he?"

"But what if he did?"

"That makes him a criminal."

"Like us?"

"No. We only chased mice. His crime is greater."


"Meow! Meow!"

I could hear their conversation. Clear. I have had enough. I barked in anger, "Shut up you two! Else I will teach you a lesson you will forever remember. I did not rob any bank, though I intended to. Someone had already escaped with all the money before I went, and the Police, thinking me as an associate of the accused, put me in this cell."

The two cats smiled nonchalantly among themselves, and the larger one spoke, "My! My! That's a sob story. Don't worry. We can help you out of here. We can set you free."

"Really!" My eyes lit up in amazement.

"Yes, really. But we do have a condition," the smaller cat spoke, licking his whiskers.

"What is that?" I eyed them suspiciously.

"We need no interference from you when we enter your owner's house in search of food. Deal?" both of them said in chorus.

This was a rough proposition. I was loyal to my Mistress. All of us dogs are. And to betray her would mean violating our morals. I was in a dilemma.

"Take all your time, but remember, the longer your think, the larger is the delay."

I took my decision. "I agree to your offer, only because I need to find out the truth and bring the robber to the forefront. But how will I get out of here?"

Click To Read Episode Seven

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Five

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Story Ahead ...

I jumped at the open window, and immediately heard shouts.

"What is that?"

"A dog?"

"Whose dog is it?"

Always an attentive species, we have been conditioned to lift our ears and listen whenever we hear someone speak. I did the same, sitting on the window sill, grasping every words spoken. I imagined that they would help me, and bring back all the money to the bank, and next weekend, I would return to loot them all.

But no, I was woken up from my stupor by the firm hands that held me, and put down on the floor. I looked up, and what I saw were not voices of hope, but angry faces. The Police personnel surrounded me, growling and muttering among themselves, while I, acting as an innocent little chihuahua, sniffed the floor, their shoes, and socks.

All of a sudden, it struck me. Hard. Like a bolt. A lightening.

Before I could join the broken pieces of my thought, I heard a booming voice, from the Chief of the Police, "This dog must be an associate of the thieves. Probably they left him behind on hearing the sirens. Take him and lock him in the prison. We will see what we can get out of him."

And then, like the twists in stories I have heard of, I too had become part of one. Though I did not rob the bank, I was a culprit to be put behind bars, my primary concern being "Do they serve watermelons in prison?"

If not, then I had certainly dived into a deep mess. How shall I get out now?

Will the real culprit be arrested?

And will I get a second chance at changing my fortune?

I had no answer today. Probably, tomorrow.

Woof ! Woof !

Saturday, July 08, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Four

 (Image Source:

Click To Read Episode Three

Story Ahead

A husky wail erupted from a distance, slowly reverberating into a loud alarm, and I identified it to be the siren of police jeep. The same siren that had blared in our colony when the fat old man of the red house had stolen Kitty and Litty from their mother, the whiskered Mrs. Meow. Or the same siren that woke me up from sleep when the short grumpy fellow had robbed munchies of all neighborhood pets. It was the same siren, now disturbing the silence of the vault, the noise echoing in the darkness.

And emptiness.

Robbery! The bank was robbed! Someone had already planned for it. Someone other than me. Someone quicker than me. And all of a sudden I felt inferior. My confidence hit a rocky low, and wanted to cry. I, in a daze, mixed with disappointment (how can I pay for the watermelons now?), was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of approaching footsteps.I quickly marched towards a dark corner, behind a shoe rack (it was smelly, and I love playing with smelly shoes), trying to focus. I could hear people talking, four or five, standing in front of the vault, trying to analyze the situation.

The lights were turned on. This was the Police, investigating the crime scene. I stuck to my corner, a mute spectator. A sad spectator. I wished I had executed my plan a bit earlier. I blamed myself, and my fate, and the stars, and planets. I blamed the universe for conspiring against me.

And then, as if the heavens were in a mood to apologize, my attention was diverted to the opposite window, a window that I had not noticed till now. It was open, and a shadow loomed over it. In a moment, it disappeared. Was it the robber? Did he carry the key to my delicious fate?

Without thinking twice, I jumped towards the window. I had to get hold of the robber. I had to get hold of the money.

And the yummy watermelons!

Woof ! Woof !

Click To Read Episode Five

Sunday, July 02, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Three

Previous Chapters

Story Ahead

It was a Sunday. Just another lazy Sunday. People on the streets were immersed in their newspapers, tea and pets, while I, another pet, was strutting on the 7th Avenue, alone (but that was what I preferred now, 'cause I couldn't afford to have a company at this hour. Nope, I wasn't going to share my loot, neither my watermelons).

Soon, I turned around the sideways, and the large metallic gates of Regional Bank of Hoofs and Paws smiled broadly at the sun, reflecting the excitement stored within me. I was excited, and nervous, and joyous, and afraid, all at the same time, a conglomeration of emotions burdened my thoughts, but I was determined to not let my resolve dissolve. And thus, I walked around the building, grey and red, and golden in rays, searching for a window, or a small gateway.

And my eyes lit up. There was an open window (how could the bank be so careless?)

I jumped towards the opposite wall, and then at the window. Wow. I was flying (and would soon fly out with money, hurray!). Watermelons started revolving around my eyes! Slurp!

The bank was dark. The lights were turned off. But who needed light. I smelt the floor, trying to identify the fragrance of fresh currency notes, and then followed the trail. I had to be careful though. No alarms should be turned off. Not that it mattered. No one could imagine a dog robbing a bank. Let alone accuse one.

Gradually, I reached a large door, the vault, the types I have seen in movies, with revolving handles, and pristine white in colour, as if painted in ivory. But, something wasn't right. I racked my tiny chihuahua brain, nodding from left to right, wagging my tail from north to south, thinking, jumping, thinking. What could be wrong.

And, woof, this was wrong.

The door was open. It wasn't locked, nor was it wide ajar, but it was open, a bit. As I peeped inside, my eyes walloped out in horror. There was no money.

There was not a penny to be robbed.

Woof ! Woof !

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode Two

Previous Chapters

  1. Episode One

Story Ahead

I know it has been a long time coming, but I have been busy. Really busy. In thoughts, and cats, and mice, and the occasional dragonflies.

And of course watermelon.

I look at the painting on the wall, and the sunset beyond the window, and all I see is red and green. Juicy pulp flowing through my tongue. Slurp.

Woof ! Woof !

I wag my tail in excitement, running round and round, and hit a table, returning back to my senses immediately.

"Remember, there is no watermelon," I sound harsh to myself, and rude, and obnoxious.

And pathetically poor.

And that's when I device a plan. The plan. To earn money, lots of money, so much that I do not need to beg in front of my mistress with droopy eyes. I will be able to buy my own water melon, hundreds of them, or perhaps even more.

Yes, I was going to be rich.

I had decided finally. To. Rob. A. Bank. You heard that correct.

This Sunday.

The Sunday.

Woof! Woof!

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Watermelon Diaries - Episode One

Four mangoes. Two peaches. Six bananas. These were what I was supposed to buy. Nothing less, nothing more. But my eyes couldn't resist; my nose lured me too, and here I was, standing in front of the water-melon counter.

When I reached home, I was carrying two big water-melons in my shopping bag. Those were extra. Those were not in the list. Not needed. Unnecessary.

"Unnecessary," she repeated, and I obliged, my eyes lowered, her gaze fiery. She took a step forward, I edged back, hitting the wall, my eyes till counting the floor tiles.

"You are strange. I have never seen a dog so fond of watermelons."

She was right. Chihuahuas love fish. They adore pieces of meat. And they love several other delicacies. But watermelons?

"Err. They taste so juicy. Yuck," my brother had told me, before we parted.

My parents didn't approve either. I didn't approve them too. And that was why they abandoned me.

And was adopted. To play. To cuddle. To shop.

But not to shop watermelons.

And then the worst happened. "Tomorrow onwards, I will give you only the exact money. For four mangoes, two peaches, six bananas. No wastages on watermelons."

I cried, I yelped, but in vain. And then I realized, I need to make my own money.

But how?

Read More

  1. Episode Two

Friday, April 21, 2017

She Saw The Lilies Fight

she saw the lilies fight
in the darkness of the night
out in the garden
narrating their plight

they fought for soil
and the sun and moon
they fought for rain
even the next day and noon

they tore each other
uprooting the lives
piercing through the petals
their twigs sharp knives

"We cant live in peace
no more in harmony"
the lilies struck each other
accusing cheat and felony

"But why, what happened,
you were so good till now,"
she tried to reason
but the lilies stared and frowned

"We are lured by riches
and power and possession
we have learnt from humans
waging war across nations."

"What purpose have they solved
None, we know
And yet blinded by greed
to wars, they never say no"

"We aim to be superior
just like you humans
so don't stop us yet
we are befriending the demons."

she was struck by horror
watching the lilies fight
out in the garden
narrating their plight

they tore each other
uprooting the lives
piercing through the petals
their twigs sharp knives

This Poem is shared with

Monday, March 06, 2017

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Rat and I

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help me Lord
oh help help help
help me today
please help help help

'cause there is a rat
under the mat
wish I could have
a large brown cat
who would chase it down
and hunt it out
and free me from fears
and nervous bout

the clock ticks twelve
it's still in sight
the time now two
what if it bites
I close my eyes
and shudder in fright
is it on my pillow
squeaking this night

a rush here, a hustle there
I could't take it longer
turning on the lights
I headed to the ladder
picking up the broom
and a stick as well
I pledged to myself
to make it's life hell

banging the stick
I hurried to my room
the rat smiled, winked
zip zap zoom
teasing and tossing
it ran to the kitchen
disappearing out of sight
all of a sudden

I retired to my bed
but eluded by sleep
what if it returns
my mind haunting deep
I closed my eyes
breathing in and out
wait, did I hear it again
the rat's squeaking pout

This Poem is shared with Imaginary Garden - The Tuesday Platform.

Friday, January 27, 2017

The Pigeon Who Spoke No Word

neither a word
nor 'hello'
he sat still, still
seeking warmth
beyond my window sill

gray and white
and a pinch of black
I couldn't go closer
as he slept on the rack
tip toe tip toe
but he might get scared
hush hush hush hush
or was he in prayer
eyes open wide
and yet motionless
braving the cold
of January heartless
somewhere burnt a log
the smell of flying embers
I looked at the clock
and retired to my chamber

'Good Morning'
poked the sun
the curtains half asleep
I got myself a bun
brushed and bathed
chores all done
when all of a sudden
my head did turn

beyond the window sill
my guest no longer seen
perhaps on his way
from where he has been
a thank you note
for the stay last night
could he have left
before being out of sight

only if I had
looked down for a second
by the shrubs and bushes
his lifeless form awakened
drowned in the mist
the night had to offer
laid on the streets
embracing death proper

the shiver went unnoticed
his prayers had been deaf
who could have noticed
hardly anyone cared
men butchering men
humans a shameless race
who would even care
about a dead pigeon's case

and he rested
until picked among the rags
and he tasted
the garbage in the bags

neither a word
nor 'hello'
he slept still, still
seeking warmth
beyond my gory sill 

This Poem is shared with dVerse - Open Link Night.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Clouds and Stars

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how mean and cruel of the clouds
to hide away the stars
as I sit, gazing, on my roof
the lonesome reality but a farce
I count on my fingers
and then in stones and pebbles
the numbers do not match
alas, this sky isn't my fable

there, squealing in fright
my star comes in sight
only for a second though
before it succumbs to the fight
O clouds, have some mercy
let them twinkle, shine bright
how much longer shall we wait
for this darkness to welcome the light

This Poem is shared with

Sunday, January 08, 2017

Monday, January 02, 2017


(Image Source:

do you hear those voices
screaming from the past
stories of your failures
and how you stood last
they are made of tears
some salty, some bitter
your heart has been in shreds
in garbage, and among litter

but hey, you have learnt
to pick up those pieces
the wounds which once burnt
are now mere creases
through the tunnel most dark
you've kissed the light
hit by hundred daggers sharp
you rose from your plight

no longer should you ever
get bogged down by struggles
remember they are the steps
to multiple victory huddles
you are your strength
the pride forever lasts
do listen to those voices
your triumphs from the past

This Poem is shared with