actuallytales

There is a traffic signal a little away from where I live. And it happens to be on my way that leads to vegetable market, the grocer, the milk parlour, etc. None of us have been so lucky to get a green light when we reach the signal. We all have had to wait and that's when these little entrepreneurs make their presence felt with little items for car decor, wipers, balloons, pens and what not. The red light is also the same time when the beggars come and knock at the glass of your car or tap on your hands if you are on a two-wheeler to draw your attention to them. Their torn and shabby clothes, the worn-out look and subtle gestures to hint that they haven't had anything to eat since past few hours or days is what will convince you to give something. I used to get carried away by these people, but over time they themselves proved me wrong. I remember clearly long time back there was one such lady with her child in her arms begging for something to eat. Having already passed throu...

It is quite early 🌞 that I go to work everyday. However, it is a pleasant time to drive 🚗with the day just beginning. The pollution whether it is air or noise is less. The air at least appears to be cleaner and fresher, though it may take experts to tell us whether it really is. Groups of dogs 🐕🐕🐕can be seen at junctures that are owned by them. You dare to speed near them, and you shall be a prey of their ear-piercing barking and chase. Children going to school, people off to work, speeding vans to reach venues on time, shops opening slowly, fresh vegetables and fruits being transported to their destination, etc is a regular sight. Amidst all this, there is a small tea stall on my way to work. The whole routine of this person has been constructed by me over a period of several days because I just get bits to watch of his routine as I pass by his little shop. Depending on whether I am slightly early or late, I can see different chapters of his routine. Compiling it together, this i...

WRITING - the word itself will generate innumerable thoughts, ideas and anticipation. Some would think now I am going to write something about writing skills. Some other will think that this blog would be about different types of writing or writing as a hobby or as a profession. The ideas would be endless. But often when we talk about writing - writing as a skill, hobby, profession or an art, we often forget the most basic form of tool required for it. Yes, surprisingly, let this blog be dedicated to that poor, slender and humble tool fondly called as PENCIL. It is the first tool that we all held to write, in fact, even before we learnt to write. Not at all glorified, no credits given, this humble fellow kept doing its job - the job of writing that it was destined to do - silently, humbly and with zero expectations. Though we never noticed its presence, with time it has come a long way. Back in the 80s it was just a pencil thet used to come in black and red stripes. That long, thin woo...