Without or Within?

The daily Prompt-March 16-<a href=" Places“>Places

“As long as you feel safe in your skin, you will always have a place to call home.”
But sometimes,especially when you’re growing and changing, a safe place isn’t under your skin.

Places have the power to evoke memories, even long after the people we shared them with are gone.
Sometimes you’ll find yourself walking down familiar roads in search of the person you used to be with them.
But change is good and memories always did have a habit of glowing brighter in retrospect.

Places give you an escape from life.
Whether it’s a out of the way, hole in the wall cafe or a the floor of the classics section in a bookstore.
It’s where dreams grow bolder and hearts grow stronger.

Blue waters and sunny skies always did have their charm,
but have you ever noticed how windows in a second-hand bookstore refract a rainbow onto the ceilings?

Forest trails and wispy clouds , you say? I can hear you sigh, wanting to get away…
But look, are those lovebirds nesting in the tree just there?

Everywhere around you are stories, just waiting to be noticed, waiting to be told.
I know because I once played peek-a-boo with a kitten hiding behind a pillar on the footpath.

Curiosity leads to the most amazing things,
Like the time I met a puppy, and she fell into a pond, looking for fishes.
She’s five years old now and curled up on my bed.

Our memories are linked inextricably to places.
What’s your favourite memory?

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I’m sinning too.

By our sinning hands,
we’ve slowly built up a wall.
And somehow I got left on the other side.
And now I’m twisting and twirling in this dark,
a dark so powerful, even a god would fall.
But through it all, what consumes me is inside,
a rotting cage from inside out.
Blinded and broken,
these sore,bloodied feet must someday give out.

~~*~~

Covet: yearn to possess.
But not knowing that which you yearn for is the worst kind of agony.

The Daily Post:Transporter.

Write about a sensation that takes you back to childhood.
Aha! Another excellent daily prompt.

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Extra Strong Teleporter Mints!

Look here,my lovelies!
Extra.
Strong.
Mints.
Gah! Need I say more.

My grandfather used to get these for me all the time from a small place,selling sweets like this and hard-boiled colourful candies,near where he used to work in the times when Mumbai was still Bombay.
They’re amazing! One piece of candy and you’ll still be tasting it 3 hours later.
With the times..it slowly became more difficult to find these anywhere..all you’d see is tic-tac and other such assortments. No one wants unlabeled,unbranded stuff like this.
And they’ll never know what they’re missing.
I travel from the Dadar area to Victoria Terminus-which is some 20-25 mins by a Mumbai local train,then walk down to Colaba for another 15 mins just to get these from a small street vendor there.
They remind of when I’d search my grandfather’s pockets as soon as he came home to get some treat I just knew he’d gotten just for me.
They make me happy. And they taste damn good.

The Daily Post:Menagerie.

This post could not possibly be more coincidental. My topic? Do you have animals in your life? If yes,what do they mean to you. You find it here.
And yesterday my beloved Elsa turned three years old.

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Elsa,my love.

She is my heart,my soul. I’ve had her since was a puppy that fit in my lap and chewed up everything she could get her teeth on.

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Young and free.

Like this. I’ve grown so attached to this little girl I can’t even put it in words. Anyone who’s ever had a dog or loves them knows that sense of complete satisfaction you get when they jump on you everyday when you return home,their insistence that your sole purpose in life is to hug them,play with them and cuddle up together. So what does she mean to me? She means unconditional,irrepressible,flawless love. I also used to have a cat.

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Ladies and Gentlemen,Meet Chips the cat.

I adopted him when he was a kitten small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. I remember when I first got him home and introduced him to Elsa,who was about a year old at the time. Yeah she learnt the hard way not to mess with a spitfire of a kitten. That scratch on her nose didn’t disappear for about a fortnight! But they learnt to live together. They used to cuddle up on Elsa’s bed during the meagre excuse for a winter we have here in Bombay.

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Peaceful Co-existence

Chips,however,decided that the domestic life was not for him,he left one day and didn’t come back. Not a day goes by when I don’t miss him. It’s been more than three months that he’s been gone.

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Pieces of my heart.

So that’s that. I love my Elsa and Chips. They’re my family. That says it all I think.

The Daily Post:Seconds!

The daily prompt is Seconds. So now I get to describe the most glorious meal I’ve eaten,in detail. To say that I am happy is an understatement.

Dinner at the Tasting Room. Artfully decorated with wine red walls and beautiful wooden furniture, I knew this was going to be a good meal before I even sat down. And oh my,what a meal it was.

We started with Crackers with Brie cheese and apricot jam. Let me tell you this, Brie is rightly called the Queen of Cheese. On a crisp cracker with just enough jam to taste but not nearly enough to overpower the cheese, it was like a foodgasm, if I may be so bold as to use that expression. It was light,fresh and the perfect beginning.
Following it up was my choice of Kafir lime and Mascarpone Risotto. Mainly because Risotto has never been on my favourites and I wanted to see if the opinion could be changed. Clearly, It could. The rice was thick but not gluggy and the dish was not even close to the heaviness you’d expect from the mascarpone cream and the base Risotto. The kafir lime cut through the cream beautifully, leaving you with a fresh taste in your mouth. You could truly savour every mouthful. The smooth texture,the creamy experience ending with a burst of lime, my feet are halfway out the door already!

And we havent even come to the best part. Dessert. I am a shameless dessert hog.I could very easily skip the main to have more room for dessert. But I don’t. No,really. Of course not.
Anyway dessert, a simple enough dish.
But in reality, it was these three words that changed my life.

Sour.
Cherry.
Sorbet.

I can feel my taste buds start to dance,singing Hallelujah!
Served in a martini glass,two scoops of perfect,dark purple, gooey,goodness. Sour and tangy,just exploding in your mouth. Every bite tasted just a little different from the slightly spiced sorbet. A bit of cinnamon,maybe some cardamom,and a wonderful after taste of pepper,just the slightest hint,to keep you guessing what it was. I loved that sorbet. It’s the kind of dish you have dreams about.

It was amazing.
It was perfect.
It was Glorious.

The Writing Room.

I sit in a corner,leaning on a beige pillow,my beloved copy of Jane Eyre in my hands. It’s a small nook that’s more precious to me than any other material possession. It’s a small 6×6 feet loft with a simple mattress laid on the floor. The bright red sheet covering the mattress is off set by the numerous beige and wine red pillows scattered all around. The walls are lined with bookshelves,the scent of old,well-loved books with tattered spines heavy in the air. One wall contains books passed down by my grandfather,favoured by my father and cherished by me. The adjacent wall holds books I have added to an already extensive family collection.

On the other end of this wall is my corner. A simple enough place,a place that gives me somewhere to go when Reality is overwhelming.
A third wall holds stationery because on some days,you need an ink pen and creamy white paper to write upon. Rows upon rows of beautiful papers fill the shelves, but the third shelf from the bottom is different. It has a stack of midnight blue A4 sized sheets,a stack of envelopes, a wax stick, a stamp and a burner.
This shelf is where all dreams begin. It is meant for writing about only those things which are closest to your heart. Your soul is on those captivating blue sheets sealed in an envelope with wax and stamped with a beautiful filigree pattern. This is for mailing to a person who owns part of your soul.This is for reading on those days when it seems too much,too fast, too hard. This is to remind you that You can and You will. Because you once dared to dream.

The final 4th wall to complete this structure…does not exist. In it’s place is a full length window,opening to a regular city view. Rooftops and tall buildings in the distance,a tree outside the window,the road four flights down. The view reminds you that beauty and inspiration lies in the Everyday.

And finally to complete the vision, a typewriter on a table about a foot off the ground lies opposite to my corner,the 2 adjacent book walls. I see myslef sitting cross-legged in front of it,typing away for all I’m worth,Briony by Dario Marianelli playing softly in the background.