Writing101 Day 18

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

Today’s prompt: write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

Today’s twist: For those of you who want an extra challenge, think about more than simply writing in first-person point of view — build this twelve-year-old as a character. Reveal at least one personality quirk, for example, either through spoken dialogue or inner monologue.

I sat on the curb, watching Mrs. Pauley, stand silently outside her house as the police men and her landlord were evicting her out of her house. She looked grey today. I remember the first time I met her I told her she was yellow.

She laughed, her hearty laugh, and asked me, “what do you mean yellow , little boy?”. I told her I like describing everyone with colors. Yellow is a happy color and so are you. Mr. Paul is Red. He is always angry. She laughed and said, “Oh dear, don’t judge a book by its cover. He is a gentle man, only he doesn’t like to show it.” She hasn’t looked yellow after Mr. Paul’s death, two years back. She loved him a lot.

I am sad that she is leaving. I don’t know where she will go now. Dad said she has to go because she doesn’t have money to pay the rent. I will miss her, her lasagna and the stories of her childhood. I cannot imagine anyone else living in that house, it belongs to Mrs. Paul. I wish there was any way I could help her. I should probably go stand by her, she looks lonely, and all those men look very black.

Writing101 Day16

Today’s Prompt: Imagine you had a job in which you had to sift through forgotten or lost belongings. Describe a day in which you come upon something peculiar, or tell a story about something interesting you find in a pile.

This the part 3/3 of serially lost post.



and now the third..


Wading through the sea of doubt that surrounded her, almost neck-deep, she saw a flash of light. What was that? A firefly? She saw the flash and ran towards it, only midway it vanished. She couldn’t see it anymore. Was she hallucinating? Was she so desperate to find the light that she was imagining things? She found herself drowning in a new kind of darkness full of despair. She was losing her confidence, confidence to move on. She was losing her fight.

So, she knelt down and prayed, prayed for guidance, prayed for consolation, prayed for support, she prayed with all her might, prayed for the light. She sat there in the dark, waiting for the light. Then she saw it ,the flash again. She stared at it, afraid any movement would make it go away. This time the firefly didn’t vanish, except it moved towards her. When it came closer, she saw that there were two, and as they came closer, she realized that there were a bunch of them. They hovered near her illuminating the space around. In that moment, she saw them, faces in that little ring of light. She knew those faces well; they were the faces of her support systems. They told her that they never disappeared, they were always in her heart, and this is a projection of her heart on the screen of her mind. All she has to do is hang on to them and the ring will become bigger. You have to believe and hold on tight.

So she held on. She held on and thanked God for guiding her. She followed her light ring, limping her way out of the dark. She was still afraid, because she had lost a lot to the darkness. She still doubted herself, whether she be able to see the light, after being engulfed in the dark for so long. She wanted to erase the past and embark on something new, something she feels good about.

The journey out of the dark was not easy at all. There were sharp turns and dead ends and places where light dwindled and almost went out. She kept on moving, falling down and getting backup, Drowning in doubt but coming back up. Whenever darkness tried to sweep over her, she hung on to the few good things in her life that had been shoved somewhere far away in her mind and she scribbled them down. Through her scribbling and jotting down of tattered thoughts, which apparently meant nothing, she found her something good.

She kept walking, hanging onto the light and her forgotten love for her abilities. She is still walking, Sometimes it becomes hard to see. It becomes difficult to not doubt herself, because darkness has given her that, doubt and fear. It has become a part of her, but she is trying, gradually making her way out, like light slowly infiltrates through the dark and eventually brightens up everything.

Now she knows how to walk out of it. That is all that matters. So this the end … well not exactly the end coz’ life goes on. I had a great time writing all this down and it helped a lot.

Also I want to mention that all three titles are courtesy of song lyrics.

1. Fix You by Coldplay.

2. The Scientist by Coldplay.

3. Coming back to life by Pink Floyd. respectively.

Let me know what you think.

Writing101 Day14

Today’s Prompt: Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration.

Today’s twist: write the post in the form of a letter.

I am currently reading Dan Brown’s “Deception point”. Page 29 brought up the word ” Spy Technologies”. So, Here’s one for the oh-so-cool Spy technologies.

Awesome Spy Technologies,

I have never really had a chance to tell you that how much I love your coolness. Spies can never be as fast and awesome as they are because of you. You allow them to run from dead ends and survive in most difficult situations. All the cool gadgetry excites me. Right now when I think of you, I imagine myself, saving the day, setting an explosion in the “bad guy’s” territory, look him in the eye, give a wicked smile, and fly away, just as the fire starts to engulf him, because I have rockets in my shoes.

Every technology is exceptional in its own way. I have seen it mostly in movies. Taking images with blink of an eye, or hide behind invisible sheets. Machine which produces food with a click of a button. Bullets made of ice, which melt away after they have served their purpose, leaving no trace behind. Fastest car which can convert into a bike,

I like it because I always wanted to be fast and sharp. This is the big stuff but if I ever get a chance, If you are kind enough to bestow some of your coolness upon me, I would want a button, which builds a tunnel to my best friend’s house. A huge bookshelf, that revolves and on the other side is a room which transforms every book into 3-D.

Continue being awesome.

Spy kid.

This was different for me. I enjoyed this haha.

Writing 101 Day13

Today’s Prompt: write about finding something.

Today’s twist: if you wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.

This is the second part of Day 4 writing, STUCK IN REVERSE


Standing in the pitch black, that surrounded her, she realized she has stopped struggling. The light outside her was gone and so was the one within her. She stood there as numbness slowly started to infiltrate her senses. Her body was frozen and her brain was in an overdrive. Questions were hitting her like small drones. How did she loose the light? When did she go far enough to not being able to see? When did she take the wrong turn? Did she not know that she took a wrong turn somewhere along the path? Why did she not know? When did she start moving towards darkness? Why did she do this to herself? She felt herself being surrounded by a deep halo, halo of wrong decisions, regrets, self-doubt and loneliness. A halo darker than the darkness surrounding her.

She wanted to run away or hide. There were no shadows to hide and there was nowhere to run. She wished, she was dead so there won’t be anything to feel, but she was alive. She was alive and aware. She closed her eyes, hoping it would make this go away but only more darkness surrounded her. It didn’t change anything; she was still aware, aware of the fact that she has to do something. She weighed her options, she was stuck in the middle, everything behind had faded away and everything forward was vague but there. She had no other option but to keep on moving.

She mustered up all the energy left inside her and started moving forward. She tried to remember, something they say, something about silver linings. Something about, light at the end of the tunnel. Something about, every good thing comes to an end but so do the bad things. So, she started taking baby steps forward, apparently into nothingness. She moved nonetheless because she didn’t have an option.

Wading through the sea of doubt that surrounded her, almost neck-deep, she saw a flash of light. What was that? A firefly?

yaay! A flash of light.

Let me know what you think?

Writing 101 Day 11

Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old?Which town, city, and country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?

Today’s twist: pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences as you compose your response about the home you lived in when you were twelve.

When I was twelve years old, I lived in the same house and same room I still live in. We had shifted from my birthplace to another city. I was excited for the new stuff happening but I also hated this new place. I had to leave behind friends, memories and my childhood. I used to believe that every bad thing happening to me is because we came to this place but at the same time this new house gave me my first independent room. I was so happy to get it.

The walls were white and the carpet was blue. There was a window on one corner of the left wall, facing the garden outside. The garden is gone now, so is the window. Oh, I miss my window. Initially, our house was constructed on half of the total plot area, half of it had a garden. Eventually, with growing needs of the family the other half was constructed as well.That’s how I lost that window.Now my room is sandwiched between my parent’s and my brother’s.

The house  and my room have gone through minor changes over time. Everything else is pretty much the same. So, when I think about where I lived when I was twelve, I see the same place with few superficial changes. All I can gather is that the place  has changed, the person has changed and the feelings have changed. Still, everything is somehow the same. I miss that window though.

Writing101 Day10

Today’s Prompt: Tell us something about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.

When a foodie is asked about food, its gonna be food all over the place!. I love food and I mean I love food  in a way, when you get an assignment in your design class to draw something that represents your personality, I draw a burger !? Yes! a Bigmac to be precise.


It all comes naturally, Pasta, Pizza, Fries, Cake, Ice cream, Chocolate or the Desi stuff.. Biryani, Daal chawal, Hari chatni, Naan with malaai. The list goes on and on. Bigmac and I, we go way back. I remember in school my best friend, who was not yet enlightened with the existence of Bigmac, told me that she eats MC chicken. I asked her have you tried the other one, the one that has two patties! It’s bigger and yummier. From that day on, it was Bigmac all the way. She still thanks me for the enlightenment.Then in college, I remember our new friend, Rabia, told us she had never eaten a Bigmac. We told her that she is missing out on life, she needs to eat it or she would die without knowing life. Now we call ourselves “Eating monsters”. Its a cheesy name right? But its okay coz’ cheese is yummy right ?

All our celebrations and all our “I-am-stressed-out-help-me” meet ups always revolve around food. All our pictures consist of us and Bigmac. My friend Sadaf likes to describe it. Bigmac is perfect in a way that when you open the container and its intoxicating smell reaches your nostrils, you know you are a happy person. You are happy but also a little sad that its gonna end soon, you enjoy it bit by bit. When you are half way done, the sadness starts to go away because the happiness prevails. You know its gonna end but its gonna leave you satisfied.When it finally ends you have no worries in your heart you know Bigmac has made your day. But that does not mean you are not coming again, SOON!


Oh and did I mention my folks at my university call me Bigmac? Yeah, they do! The other day, we were leaving for home and I was a little low that day, my friend said, ” Noorya are you okay? Do you need a bigmac?” and that did the trick! whossh all the clouds of worry lurking above me vanished and I said Yes Please!. Thanks Alina and Faryal for the treat.

One of my dreams also include to go on a cheese testing event and be a head chef or something …haha. Oh! and yes have a really awesome food blog someday.

i don’t know about my inner voice ??It felt more like me rambling about how much I love food. Anyways it was fun 😀

Writing101 day 9

Today’s Prompt: A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view:

Cool breeze touched his face lightly and the leaves crunched under his feet as he walked on paved pathway of the local park.  The sun had painted the sky a deep orange.The birds were leaving off for their homes. He felt the grasp of her wife’s hand get tighter; indicating something exciting was coming up in her story. Lily was telling him about her day at work, how her colleague finally managed to stand up in front of her boss. They often took evening strolls, to get a feel of the nature. He felt something soft hit his foot and looked down; a ball of red.

Julian stopped and bent down to pick up something. It was a ball of wool. He started following the thread attached to it. Lily walked with him and looked at the direction of the thread.

“Oh! I think it belongs to that lady, sitting on the bench”, she said.

“Yeah”, he said. They walked towards her.

When they approached the lady , she smiled sweetly and said, “Thanks dear, it just slipped out of my hands”

“There you go”, said Julian and handed over the wool.

“What are you knitting? Can I see?”, she asked the lady.

“It’s a sweater for my grandson”, the lady said, happily showing the sweater.

“Ohh, it’s so cute and soft, look Julian”, she said turning towards him.

She saw him flinch a little and even though he was good at hiding, she could see he had drifted off somewhere else. He smiled back but she saw a shine in his eyes.

“It’s so adorable”. She handed it back to the lady. “We should go now, its getting dark”.

She held his hand again and started walking towards home. She could feel his grasp getting tighter on her hand. A single tear left his eye, he fiercely wiped it away. He smiled and put his hand around her shoulders. She tightened her grip around his waist and said, “I am Sorry”.

She knew it would not change anything but she said it anyway. Sorry for all the sweaters tucked away in that old trunk, which they never really open. Sorry for the one that never got completed. Sorry for the knitting kit, rusting away in the same trunk. Sorry for the night, he lost his mother to a car accident.

Martha watched them walk away crushing dry leaves beneath their feet. She was sure she sensed something, that boy was uncomfortable. She silently prayed all their worries would go away. They never really go away do they, she laughed to herself. She prayed, they would learn to deal with them.

Writing101 Day 5

Today’s Prompt: You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.

Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.

A piece of paper left, where he had been sitting. Four words sculpted in the center, reflecting love and if looked closely struggle, hard work and control.

“mom i love yuo.”

A mother is going to be proud tomorrow, the teacher thought.

I want to mention here that the child is dyslexic and it is difficult for him to read and write. I wanted this to be positive, as a mother would be proud to see that her child, who has difficulty in such stuff, is trying and succeeding. I also want to apologize if this in any way conveys something harsh about dyslexia, that is not my purpose at all.

Writing101 Day 4

Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.

Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.


She was named after the light.She was bright, simple, pure just like the light. Guess,the name had an influence on her.One thing she didn’t get from the light that she was not as bold and upfront as it.She preferred hiding in the shadows.Shadows of her support system.That was the way she was made.She always needed a support system.It was good or bad, she still had to figure out.

People said she had the gift to guide others,like light guides you through a dark path.It allows you to see things which are otherwise hidden in the dark.It was a gift,she secretly cherished. It ignited a hope inside her, hope that she is useful in someway.She wanted to be useful.

There was enough illumination in her way to see and keep on walking.Her path also had enough shadows to hide in ,whenever she wanted to.She needed the shadows.In the later years of her journey, the path got darker.It started losing the light and so does the shadows.She needed the light because it is necessary to cast shadows.She needed the shadows.She felt like she was out in the open,completely exposed, even though it was getting darker by the moment.Stuck in a paradox,she did not know what to do.She needed the light,to discern and the shadows to take cover.

Living in the darkness was difficult to a point of suffocation.She felt like tearing apart all the dark forces.She wanted to go back,back to brightness.She stopped walking.She could not go further.She wanted to but the forces restricted her.Standing in the pitch black ,that surrounded her, she realized she has stopped struggling.The light outside her was gone and so was the one within her…

I couldn’t think of a thing or a person… but this is about losing myself and then rediscovering.

I hope this goes with the whole idea of today’s prompt.

I plan on making it a series.Next I want to figure out if “hiding” is any good.How will she break through the darkness engulfing her.


wrting101 day 1

So I have to write for the first challenge of the writing 101 thingie. I have to write for the next 20 minutes. time noted. I really don’t have anything particular in mind so Im going to just vomit words directly out of mind. I had an okay day at my university and only thing i was looking forward to was this assignment. i am kind of happy and excited to do this. i have been going through a phase of numbness and nothing really excites me. This is something that’s pushing me to do something. So its a good thing right? I really want to write good and reach out to people.Also want people to reach out to me.My mind is kind of in an overdrive since i started blogging. So this my stimulation now a days. I feel like Im writing a diary.. not sure if this is the purpose of the whole thing. Whatever it is Im going with it. Checking the time hmm still have to write and I dont know what to write anymore. Numbness is the next thing that comes into mind… why do we get depressed and numb and so sick of stuff. Why do we want appreciation and why do we get down when we dont get it for a long period of time. Not everyone is good at everything but how do we find out if we are good at something at all or not? I think that i can write not excellent but just okay. Even that is good for me I want to get good at this I am trying and this exercise is one of those tries. i am stuck in something that is really not me or my domain and I want to do something that is in my domain. I dont have an out from this thing but i am finding or seeking my refuge in writing … i hope something good comes out of it. Now im thinking iv written too much personal stuff. but i think that is sort of what i wan to do let it all out. somehow find my happy place or a place comfortable enough to breathe in. This reminds me of a quote from my all time favorite show grey’s Anatomy “i want something good too”. trying to find my “something good”. im really hoping this blog would get me somewhere or if nothing at least Ill find some of me back. Time is up. Bring it on!