Chronicle of the Nomad

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright -Björn Rudberg

The grass grew in tussocks along the flight of stone stairs.  The moss clung to walls and the wild flowers that smelled like honey danced in the winter sun. 

The fort still conveyed a sense of lost grandeur, with its double-storied bastions and gigantic towers that housed within the grand palace and audience halls.   But nature was waging a war on the abandoned fort and winning.

In its place now stood a crumbling edifice fighting the vicissitudes of time.

Sab thaath para rehjavega, Jab laad chalega banjara

(All your splendor will lie useless, when the nomad packs-up and leaves).

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

When I wrote my last blog post Fragrance of Memories little did I know that I would be attending my mother's funeral in less than a week.  So when I saw this week's prompt of the crumbling ruins, I was reminded of these lines from Banjaranama that my mother used to often quote.

If you are a millionaire, and your stores are brimming,
Know, O ignorant! There is always another merchant who is even greater than you.
What of your sugar, candy, jaggery and nuts? What of your doughs, sweet and salty?
What of your grapes, raisins, ginger and pepper? What of your saffron, cloves and betel?
All your splendor will lie useless, when the nomad packs-up and leaves.

I will miss her but I am grateful to all these little nuggets that she left behind which remain close to my heart.

Fragrance of Memories

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Janet Webb

When growing up, I watched my mother wield a large pair of clippers and go at the Cherry Blossoms that edged our yard.  She would fill a vase with warm water and dunk the spindly branches with buds that were still tight. 

Within a week we would witness the unfurling with an unbounded joy that still stays with me.

In the first year without her, an unseasonal storm left us carpeted under snow.  When it was over I ventured outside with the clippers in my hand.

Later the family gathered around the flowers and inhaled the fragrance of her memories.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

No songs this time only a link to a poem

A Deluge of Words

(Copyright Randy Mazie)

I was cycling to my local library when I was hit by a quote.

“Anything worth dying for is certainly worth living for.”

Bang! Straight on my helmet stopping me right where I was.  

“Try to imagine a lifewithout timekeeping. You probably can’t.”

I propped the bike against a pole and lay down bewildered.

“A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others”

It was a deluge of words.

“Anything is better than lies and deceit!”

The words, a reminder of my lie, that the books were lost.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Couldn't pass this opportunity to insert a link to one of my favourite songs.

Immortality

The city is alive and it never sleeps.  It lives, breathes and inhales dreams of newcomers.  Digesting and discarding as waste on the sidewalks, where the passersby gingerly skip over to avoid the stench of failure.

Six months back he was on Jimmy Kimmels’ show, eight million having watched him on YouTube singing Staying Alive in Bulgarian jive walking down Sunset Boulevard.   That landed him a gig in Celebrity Big Brother as an intruder.

In hindsight he should have never released a cover of Immortality in Ukrainian.  Only fifty views and here he was - a part of the crowd again. 

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Immortality can be such a such a strange thing in this connected world.  I wrote and then realised I might have done a longer version that covered this subject before.  A Tall Tail might cover it.

Oranges and Lemons

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

I saw a familiar lemon the other day. Parked forlornly in the derelict car yard on edge of the city, a stark reminder of the bygone times.

Then I was entranced by its blandness, never having owned a car before and unaware of it’s notorious past.  It was kind of homely, fuel thirsty and too expensive to run. 

It remains a mirror to my relationship at the time.  That too was soured by the failure to perform and frequent breakdowns.

It stalled one day and I left it by the roadside.  Hitching a ride to another town never to return.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

I believe this is my 

th







 Friday Fictioneer entry.  It's been an absolute pleasure participating and a big thank you to Rochelle for providing the prompt each week.  And to every one of you who reads my blog and leaves a comment.  Thank you for your encouragement and support.