I remember telling my Daddy: “Dad, I want to be an author.” I was ten and was horrible at writing. Not that anything has changed. Well, I do admit I have improved because Daddy doesn’t need to put a big red cross over what I write and sit with me to explain why anything I do write doesn’t make any sense. Nor does he need to worry about my poor writing skills which would give me shameful low marks in language – my mother’s thoughts, not his; he was probably just concerned about whether my mediocre language skills could sabotage my bright future. He is a worrier, my Daddy, which is perhaps why I gave up the idea of ever becoming a writer as soon as those words came out of my mouth. I had been kindly explained that writing often could not bring food to the table, though it could be a wonderful profession. I decided to switch dreams and become a mathematician instead. What?! I loved numbers as well. I am almost certain I loved numbers more than writing. Writing was a pain, I always got it wrong. Yes, still, I dreamed of being a writer while hating writing. I was a weird kid who seemed normal. Not that anything has changed. Keep reading…

The fates are cruel that way: just on a whim, the winds shift and so does your life. You blame in on your boss, your teacher or even the weather but truth be told, fate somehow got herself involved. Which one you ask? The youngest one. Left alone in the cave with Moonlight and Mischief, she plays while her sisters on the yin and yang. Balance. But what does she care? Youth never brought wisdom.

Feel the breeze today? Blame it on Fate.

Tags: Oneshots

You start out cheerful and hopeful that something good will actually happen today. You believe it with all your heart but then something happens that simply makes the bright shining sun so gloomy – and mind you, you don’t even see the sun that much there. It is always so grey with the grey clouds and grey buildings making everything really grey and grey is not really your colour. Well, that is actually a lie; grey turns out to be simply perfect when the brush filled with glittery silver eye shadow caresses your eyelids in the morning. However, right now, it does not matter anymore if you’re wearing your new eye shadow which makes the twinkle in your eyes even more alive than ever or better, the shoes bought from M&S last week because primo, they were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life: the perfect black stiletto with just a single strap of fuchsia at the front which maybe will make your feet hurt after an hour or two of walking but perfect nevertheless and, secondo, it was on sale for mother’s day, isn’t simply just the right excuse? Of course, you did forget to text your mother on that day but you do not really believe that only one day in the year should be dedicated to her, instead you just wait for her to call you because you do not want to ‘waste’ any money as your budget is quite tight these day. Your budget obviously does not include the half-priced shoes which in a way saved your money, nor the dozens of outfits you have lying on the floor because there is no space in your closet. Keep reading…

Tags: prologue

Tiny hands flicking the key to the box of music,
Wishful eyes dream of what possibly can’t be.
A light hearted melody, an enchanting power,
The little porcelain doll comes to life at last.

Perfect stance, fragile beauty, plastered smile,
She puts on her show with emotions set aside.
From passion to duty, from duty to slavery,
She performs, dancing to the tunes of music.

Slouch movements copying her graceful ones,
She watches as the little one yearns to be her.
Memories flooding, the scenario replaying,
She remembers holding that innocent gaze.

Child, she imagined being the queen of swans;
Even she had been mesmerized by Odette.
Now, frozen in time, the spell had worn off:
Odile’s deception was more apparent that ever.

The last notes playing, her tempo decreasing,
The curse forces her into painful submission.
Back to dreamless sleep she is compelled to go
Until another unlucky soul turns the key again.

Tiny hands flicking the key to the box of music,
Wishful eyes dream of what possibly can’t be.
A light hearted melody, an enchanting power,
The little porcelain doll is once more freed.

Tags: Innocence, Music, Prison, Time

I woke up to the feeling that everything was moving beneath me. My first thoughts were of panic and horror as I went through the worst possible scenarios as to why my home was shaking as it was. An earthquake was out of question, though back in a corner on my mind, my little brain was working hard to try and remember my earthquake survival lessons my father gave me when I was little. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head, telling myself that this was just a nightmare, but even that seemed impossible; seconds ago, I had been dreaming of that beautiful girl again, the one I saw long ago in my old home and from who I was cruelly separated by those heartless humans who are now supposed to be my masters.

As I lamented silently in my corner, I felt three pairs of eyes on me, watching my every movement. I smelled the sweet scent of my unexpected visitors, and suddenly, life wasn’t so bad after all; females were all around me AND at the same time, interested in me. I rarely had female company and the change was welcome. Of course, there is my ‘master’, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to see her in any other way than that of the person because of whom I was separated from loved ones. Anyway, the two other faces were new to me and they didn’t really seem that mean.
But little did I know of the whimsical nature of the fair sex for my experience was only limited to my sisters and their friends who had never been that interested in me. Some experience wouldn’t hurt, I thought to myself as I tried to remember the tips my older brothers gave me. Keep reading…

Tags: Animal, Fun, Hamster, Play

Back to reality, Sayuka and I should probably go to, but the past two days were so dream-like that one feels that real life is in fact dull sometimes.”Let’s have a sleep over,” we decided back in February when we received our results. Among all the things we wanted to do, this had been top on our lists for some one or two years now, without ever receiving permission for it. Thing’s weren’t that easy, with our overprotective mothers who weren’t not that willing to let their girls go somewhere else to spend the night, not that we haven’t done it before… But I think going to someone’s home rather than a bungalow near the beach or a seminar organized by the school is way different.

Knowing that a full-proof plan was needed, for, of course, we were going to be bombarded with questions about the why and stuff. The best strategy needed to be adapted to get past the barriers our supermoms created, and after dropping clever hints for months and crafting the perfect reasons, we decided to present our cases to our mothers. We almost jumped in joy when we heard the oh-so-awaited “yes” uttered by our mothers! We had wanted this for a long time, but somehow everything was rushed. The previous week, I told the girls that they could come whenever they want, and suddenly, Wednesday arrived, with me hurrying to go meet them. Keep reading…

Tags: Bonding, Friends, Fun, Sleep-over

Once upon a time, in a faraway neighbourhood, there lived an evil witch. The witch had proclaimed herself the Mistress and Ruler of everything in a 100m (or was it a kilometer) radius of her Castle. Her children having left home and boredom of old age kicking in, she only had for hobby to nose around in her “subjects” family and personal matters, reveling in creating rifts between members of a same family or discord within the whole community. However, the evil hag was not satisfied! There existed a small household in the county that refused to yield to the nosiness of the witch, going about their everyday-life peacefully and quietly.
Keep reading…

Tags: anger, family

A woman is said to be born three times: the first being her real birth, the second is when she gets married and the third when she gives birth herself. Each time, she is given a new life, in which her role changes and to which she has to adapt. Most would agree that the best ‘life’ ever would be the time between her birth and her wedding. She is pampered, mostly by her parents, taken care of very carefully, for she is the flower that they have to look after until she blooms into a beautiful bride.

This particular moment brings out the most contradictory feelings, for a daughter’s wedding is the time when happiness hand in hand with sorrow sees the bride off to her new home. Which is why weddings are usually celebrated with lots of celebrations because it usually means a new stage of life for the couple, and here in Mauritius, it’s certainly no different. Being quite influenced by both the western and eastern culture, our weddings tend to have a touch of both.

In my family, we have tried to keep most of the rituals, if not all, that one has to go through when getting married, especially for the bride. From what I have experienced, the parents and the relatives all manage to turn the already-not-so-simple wedding into a long one, but one which prepares the bride both mentally… and physically. Keep reading…

Tags: bride, Mauritius, muslim, rituals, traditions, weddings

I wish I had a time machine

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Tags: henna, love, wedding

The Lady shines over her subjects

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Tags: Death, Fish, Fishy, Luck