Sangeetha Kamath

 # Chapter5 # Prompt5 : Prepare a Vision Board as a sneak peek trailer for the upcoming year 2026.  After a Cinematic Title to my 2025, the last prompt is a Sneak Peek Trailer into 2026. Fitness goals have always been top priority. This year, time imploded into an oyster shell, the after shocks of 2024 taking its slow, sweet time to settle down.  Right after the cautionary period of 3 months passed like an eternity after my ASD surgery last August, the apprehension that things would never be quite the same was rife.  But so was my grit. Why? Why not? You never try, you never know!  My flexibility was off the mark with a raw incision in the centre of my ribcage, impending any forward bend, let alone a backward bend. My balance on the yoga mat was wobbly. I tethered wildly on my side like a jack-in-the-box while testing out a Tree Pose. The Mermaid pose that I could slide into in 2023 made every fibre cry out in agony.  I diluted my moves to a less than basi...

  # Prompt4 A Shout-out and Appreciation post to someone who helped me as a creator.  The Universe doesn't at all work in mysterious ways. It works exactly as it was meant to roll out for me. The riptides of 2025 were all engulfing. But fighting a losing battle was never an option. I had to surface tearing through it all. SM had taken a laid-back seat with me lounging in the tangible priorities I had to tackle in the 3D world.  Instagram had been a secondary preference even otherwise with FB taking the front row of all time whenever I was regular on social media. Insta was a tool--totally non existent for years to come except for a couple of times since creating it but in August I opened this long forgotten wardrobe and found some unexpected treasures in there. Here was a creator who delivered dynamically in her audience interaction. And sensibly with great clarity as well. A nonsense, a non-controversial and someone who didn't whine and howl in a perceived victim mode. J...

 

Prompt 2: Plot twist of 2025 The Wild Arcs of April : It's been a worthwhile time spent on the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 2025 . While time was not entirely in my favour after April 9, I had to suspend the event due to unforeseen, unavoidable and unfortunate circumstances when my dear father exited the earthly realm on the 10th. I picked it up from where I left off after April 27 th.  Having lost a crucial chunk of time didn't deter me much and I did write just for the love of it.  During these 26 days of writing-- spanning the alphabetical order from A-Z, it was an enriching experience with my theme of Wellness/Lifestyle/Philosophy and Self care with every title picked from a foreign language. From ANAM CARA to ZÕV AMDRAL , I wrote a whopping 30,356 words on my blog!  In view of the blogging team's theme of gratitude for 2025, I'm brimming with joy to see the unexpected readership count on each piece. With everyone's unwavering support and especially...

Prompt 1: The Cinematic Title to my year of 2025. It was the finest of times, it was the crummiest of times.    The Blurb: It was the age of triumphs, of glory, of celebrations, of reunions and of milestones. Hand in hand arrived episodes of awful and rude shocks, chapters of uncertainty, somber moments in unnerving waves. Also those of rising hope, unparalleled faith, steady support and timely miracles embraced us never forsaking us in the most hell breaking stances of trials, tests and tribulations. Image Courtesy: Pinterest  

        This is a reimagined version of the classic tale---The Bridge To Terabithia. This Fanfic is part of my NaNoWriMo or Novel Writing November exercise 2025.                      AUTUMN DRIFT  The darkness outside pressed against the windows as Leslie pulled on a sweater, the wool scratchy against her skin. She needed to move, to do something about the swirl of questions in her head. Her parents. The Burkes. Where were they? She started with the local newspaper office in Larkspur, the nearest town. The November air was crisp and smelled like wood smoke as she walked down Main Street, the streetlights casting pools of yellow on the wet sidewalk. The newspaper office was a small, cluttered place with a bell above the door that jangled as she entered. "Can I help you?" the editor, a gruff man with a mustache, looked up from sorting papers. "I'm looking for information about my family," Leslie said, trying t...

   There used to be a golden age of annual vacations once upon a long forgotten time. These school holidays would invariably arrive after the first mid-week of November until school reopened on the first Monday of January in the coming year. Diwali that would have just gone by would be only a cozy affair with family and a few good friends at whose homes invitations would be extended for lunch or dinner with potluck themes.  But the real deal was the treat that was waiting for us back home. My parents, empty nesters would eagerly await the arrival of Babylou as soon as November arrived.  “There's a surprise for you later,” my father would chime as soon as she crossed the threshold. He thoughtfully bought a packet each of the various firecrackers available during the festive season and kept those aside.  These would be spread out in the morning sun until high noon everyday for a week before our arrival until they were fried to a crisp-- ready to crackle and spa...