ACCOLADES PENMANCY

DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER

#ButterflyEffectSpanning25Years #AllsWellThatEndsWell #DiamondsAreForever #WhereTheresAWill The pivotal phrase from “Kafka and the Doll” by Franz Kafka which says that ‘Loss isn't final but love is transformed and restored to you in ways that you never envisioned; it's all about growth and adaptation—plays a huge part in my new year. The Franz Kafka of my life is a girl called ‘ Charrzzx’. In retrospect, this story was in all probability conceived in 2001 as a miniscule bubble, but nevertheless a significant ripple which would impact my life 25 years later in 2026. **** Year 2001: The landmark year when I migrated to and made my base in Singapore was also a memorable one for another reason that it was my parents’ first visit to my place. The days ran into each other with visits to tourist spots and rounds of shopping sprees. On a very fine day, Daddy and I had passed by a Giordano showroom in a mall which I would generally walk past without a second glance other...

AI 'n' I (Part 2 to DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER)

Ok! So Babylou was so flustered after the hoodie fiasco when we arrived home, that for a couple of days she trailed behind her a chain reaction of an awfully mentally drained me–upon seeing her tireless emotional highs and lows, day in and day out. Clutching at the last straws of my already depleting sanity with the incessant grousing, I told her that I would ask AI to do a tarot card reading for the hoodie and its unfortunate pilfer ( to humor her, to close and seal this annoying chapter for good!) My ability to reason with her had explored all avenues and had horribly crashed to a naught. However, AI did a fab job ! It told me that the petty thief would soon get her karma ! How ? Pat came the 'bot'ic response. She will trip and fall face down in a puddle of muddy water... Harmless. Not a tit for tat but was enough to make me go into fits of uncontrollable laughter. My next obvious question--- How will I know when that happens? I won't be around to watch that ...

GOLDILOCKS: THE LOCKE MANSION

This is a reimagined version of the popular fairy tale ' Goldilocks and the Three Bears.' This retelling is a part of the Write A Page A Day event on Blogchatter starting Feb 1 thru 28th to reach a total word count of 10K by the month end. CHAPTER 1 LOCKE HAVEN ESTATE The sky bled bruises of plum and cherry over the rolling hills. A full moon hung low against the mauve, casting silver shards through the skeletal trees. The mansion made of cold greystone loomed large beyond the rusted iron gates. It grated on the gravel, rasped on the hinges and yawned open like a predator's jaw as Goldwynn booted it open with her foot. Her sneakers squished heavily on the mulch of dead leaves. Clutching her backpack, she looked up at the towering, grim structure forebodingly. "Are you sure you want to do this, Go...

GOLDILOCKS: THE BEWITCHED WOODS

This story is a reimagined version of the popular fairy tale 'Goldilocks And The Three Bears' and is a part of the event Write A Page A Day on Blogchatter for the month of February. CHAPTER 2 The trees pierced the sky like steeples, their gossamer branches blurred out high against the dusk. The luminescent creepers that entwined them pulsed like embers of bonfire in the dwindling light. Mists thick with musk and sun-bleached pine, swirled around their trunks and veiled the forest floor in pillowy waves. The earthy smell of decaying leaves and damp moss made Goldwynn’s senses reel. Disheveled, she scrambled to her feet, her heart racing like the devil. The Locke mansion was nowhere to be seen – The cavern had spat her out like a bitter aftertaste. Her ears strained to hear some sign of life. “ Where am I .. and where in the blimey is Locke Mansion...!" her...

FADED COLOURS, FRESH MEMORIES

RED SHOES I still remember the happiest days of my life when Rivka all of five years was delighted beyond measure to take me home as her birthday gift. A pair of red leather shoes which she always wanted. She held me tenderly, close to her lil heart which spoke volumes. Rivka wore me to the park, playgrounds and picnics. **** Out of nowhere came that ill fated day, when I could hear horrendous screams and crowds of panic-stricken people were crammed into a truck. Rivka was howling and clinging to her mother. We arrived at a hellish place where I was brutally ripped off Rivka’s feet and thrown onto a pile of other shoes. Rivka and the others were shoved into a windowless room and locked in. The chimneys of surrounding buildings belched out putrid smoke. I never saw her again. **** Years later, staring at the pristine room and men working in a calm manner made me relax in the cool confin...

Sangeetha Kamath

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