SOLITARY IN THE RAIN

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*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s beautiful PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

Here I stand, seemingly solitary in the rain,
Maybe you think I am wallowing in pain.
Actually I am grinning in gain!

A mother bent to pick her fallen grain,
I moved along with her bairn,
I couldn't help my main!

Like bees to the honey they came in a dain,
Locked me in their human chain,
She hugged them all, the mother crane!

So you see, I'm singing in the rain!


*The pic reminded me of an incident that I witnessed and was part of in the parking lot of a mall in Orlanda, USA. Hope you get the picture!

DAIN means brook!

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SWARAJ, MY BIRTHRIGHT!

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*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s beautiful PHOTO PROMPT ©Jan Wayne Fields. The picture brought one word to my mind – FREEDOM! I give here a bit of Indian history!

The primary school at Ratnagiri, the teacher enters the class after the interval. Groundnut shells scattered in the classroom.

“Who scattered the groundnut shells like this?”

“Speak, who ate the groundnuts?”

Teacher decides to punish the entire class and starts to give each boy two cuts with his cane. Bal’s turn. He does not hold out his hand.

“I did not eat the groundnuts. So I will not receive the cuts.”

“Then who ate the groundnuts?”

“It is said that carrying tales is bad. So I won’t tell.”

Even at that young age it was Tilak’s nature to protest against injustice.

*Swaraj means national or local self-government in India

Bal Gangadhar Tilak, considered the Father of Indian National Movement, founded of the “Deccan Education Society” to impart quality education to India’s youth. He was a member of the Municipal Council of Pune, Bombay Legislature, an elected ‘Fellow’ of the Bombay University.

Tilak formed Home Rule League in 1916 to attain the goal of Swaraj.
A multifaceted personality, he was a social reformer, freedom fighter, national leader, and a scholar of Indian history, sanskrit, hinduism, mathematics and astronomy.
Popularly called Lokmanya (Beloved of the people), his slogan “Swaraj is my birthright and I shall have it” inspired millions of Indians in the fight for freedom.
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‘Swadeshi, Swaraj (self-rule), Boycott and National Education’- these were the sacred words preached by Tilak. And the people made weapons of these words.
Galvanizing people’s love of their country was itself a revolution brought about by Tilak.

 

DUMBSTRUCK!

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*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s beautiful PHOTO PROMPT ©Sandra Crook

The convoy left the place, sped on its way by cheering masses. Small but enough to cheer the dusty travelers. .

“We did good, didn’t we?” said the Man, with a sigh.

“Just one more and then you would be speeding on your way”, replied his secretary, smiling away.

“Yeah, just across that bridge, a ten-minute stop, then the highway and bliss!”

The car ground to a stop.

“Baa, baaaa, baa, baaa..”.

“What the…!”

“Just a flock of sheep crossing.”

“Honk hard”.

“They will only mill around more”.

Time stretched.

Gheraoed, the Man fumed, by dumb animals!

*Gherao, meaning “encirclement,” is a word originally from Hindi/Bengali/Marathi. It denotes a tactic used by labor activists and union leaders in India. Usually, a group of people would surround a politician or a government building until their demands are met, or answers given.

 

 

SHADOW & SHADE

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*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s beautiful PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Marler Morrill

Houses stood, adjoined or opposite, together flanking a narrow lane.

Playing hide and seek in that alley, weaving in and out of the houses.

No shut doors, kids threading their way through them.

One home the same as the other, openness a way of life,

No shadows, just cool shade.

Then it all changed.

Children grew, seeds of competition sown, distrust flourished,

Doors began to close, heart began to wither,

Knock knock, a head peeps out, a mouth spats out a reply, banging itself in

A fertile growth in a virgin land,

Only shadows, no shade.

What happened, you ask?

Progress happened,

That’s all!

Sorry everyone. I have been held up with different duties for a month or so and missed the last couple of posts. Here I am with a new one. Hope you like it. Hope you missed me enough to comment on it!