DP Daily Prompt: Humble Pie Ranu’s post http: sabethville.wordpress.com

I regret about a lot of things. It started from a very young age. One evening my Dad saw me writing something.He asked me ,”Are you doing  your Homework,Ma? I said, “no Dad ,this is my friend’s work, she wants me to finish it for her,” he was quiet for a few seconds,then he looked at me and said, ” this will be the last time I’ll tell you , you must never let your friends take advantage of you!”

At that time I knew what he meant. I never was able to follow his advice.People still take advantage of me.

NaBloPoMo Nov.30 ‘My Lunch Box’ranu’s post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

Kennebunk Manufacturing Company Fibre Lunch Bo...

Kennebunk Manufacturing Company Fibre Lunch Box Catalog Cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had an aluminum lunch box at age 8. My Mom filled it with all sorts of yummy food. Everyday she warned me, “Ranu you must eat what I give you”. I always wanted to ,but I was so shy,thought of someone watching me, stopped me from eating lunch. It happened daily. I’d carry the box to school, make a few attempts to take out the food to eat. The moment I saw someone passing,I’d close the box.

The lunch box came home full. My younger siblings were thrilled to eat the food. Mom never found out. One fine day Mom filled the box with my favorite food. I carefully closed it. I told myself,’today I will eat the food’. When I opened the box,I heard someone calling,”Chaman hurry up, we’ll play a game of hide and seek”.I closed the box and ran out to play. The food was untouched.

Next day Mom packed lunch as usual. I was about to put it in my school bag, suddenly I heard a teeny tiny voice calling me, it was barely audible,at first I didn’t know where it was coming from. To my dismay, I heard the voice coming from my school bag. This can’t be true I thought, how can anyone speak from the bag. I only have my books and lunch box. Surely these are inanimate objects,how can they talk, I was thinking. Soon I heard a gentle tap inside the box. ‘This is weird” I said,I  opened the bag. My lunch box looked at me and said, “Listen, Ranu today you have to eat lunch,or I’ll tell your Mom”.  “Wait a minute I said, you cannot tattle you are not a living thing,you cannot frighten me”.

The school bus was almost at the gate of the school,ready to stop, I suddenly heard the screeching sound of the brake, I opened my eyes and realized , my lunch box wasn’t talking,it was my inner self warning me not to lie to my Mom!

Women in the Qur’an and the Sunnah’

♥ The Tale Of My Heart ♥

Women in the Quran and the Sunnah


In Islam there is absolutely no difference between men and women as far as their relationship to Allah is concerned, as both are promised the same reward for good conduct and the same punishment for evil conduct.

The Quran says:

“And for women are rights over men similar to those of men over women.”

[Noble Quran 2:228]

The Quran, in addressing the believers, often uses the expression, ‘believing men and women’ to emphasize the equality of men and women in regard to their respective duties, rights, virtues and merits. It says:

“For Muslim men and women, for believing men and women, for devout men and women, for true men and women, for men and women who are patient and constant, for men and women who humble themselves, for men and women who give in charity, for men and women who fast, for men…

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The Web Storms Into English Grammar

Lingua Franca

As a flashback of our elementary school days, we remember that a preposition is a word which precedes a noun (or a pronoun) to show the noun’s (or the pronoun’s) relationship to another word in the sentence. The word preposition comes from the idea of being positioned before. (It is not true to say that a preposition always precedes a noun or a pronoun, but it does most of the time.)

Examples of prepositions are:  above, about, across, against, along, among, around, at, before, behind, below, beneath, beside, between, beyond, by, down, during, except, for, from, in, inside, into, like, near, of, off, on, since, to, toward, through, under, until, up, upon, with and within.

For years prepositions remained more or less the same, so it was easy to remember their usage in everyday English communication.  Then some wise guy invented the Internet, and grammar began to change its…

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NaBloPoMo “My Mom’s famous Kebab” Ranu’s post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

My Mom was a very good cook. Anything she cooked was amazing. We all loved to eat. We seldom asked  how she turned out these delicious meals. I watched  when she cooked.  It looked so easy. I thought I can do this too. The ingredients she used were, slices of beef ,same size potatoes, onions were sliced thin,the tomatoes were thin slices too. In addition she used whole dry peppers,peppercorn and cinnamon sticks,there were whole cloves,salt,yoghurt and oil or clarified butter.

She used a round pot for this amazing dish. She had the ingredients in separate bowls. The layering of these ingredients was carefully done. she put a tablespoon of oil or clarified butter in the pot and spread it evenly. She carefully laid the beef ,followed  by three or four dry red peppers, a few peppercorns, some cloves,salt, and one or two half inch cinnamon sticks. Then  potatoes were layered on top making sure they covered the meat, onions went on top and tomatoes on the top layer. On each layer the oil and the yoghurt mixed with ground ginger,garlic ground cumin and ground coriander was spread as well. If she had some ingredients left, she’d repeat the layering. When everything was neatly in the pot, she put the cover on.

It was put on a charcoal stove, to give it the effect of an oven,she put hot charcoal on the cover. It took about an hour. When the lid was taken off,the aroma made us rush to the dining room. We didn’t need any bells!

DP Daily Prompt: Keeping up with the Jones’ Ranu’s Post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

One-story bungalow with painted trim, earth-to...

One-story bungalow with painted trim, earth-tone shingles. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The luxury item I want,is a bungalow. I live in a two storey house.It is all right. It is a problem when I want something,not on the same floor.

To me a bungalow is very convenient. All the rooms are on the same floor. The kitchen is spacious. There are plenty of cupboards for everything.

The living room has comfortable space. I like a fire place .In winter it adds to the beauty. All of us can enjoy it.

Three bedrooms is perfect.They should have en-suite bath ,a powder room and a walk in closet.

A veranda is awesome to have but not practical. The snow in winter will fill the space. A  porch is fine.

The bungalow will be surrounded by trees. The front will have a garden.The land at the back can be used to grow vegetables.

This is what I’d love to have!

NaBloPoMo A most extraordinary day Ranu’s post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

My extraordinary day began this morning. I walked 2.2 km, paid my bill , came home and had the pleasure of reading 22 “Speak Easy Entries”, for this week.

There were all kinds of amazing stories. Some were about Grandpa and Grandma, others were different but they were excellent. To me they are all winners. To be able to write so beautifully,takes a lot of dedication. It is an amazing way of expressing oneself and improving.

We all had to vote for three entries we liked the most. I voted for three, I wish I could vote for all of them.

DP Daily Prompt: Fear Factor Ranu’s Post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

According to Psychologists , “fear is a vital response to physical emotional danger—if we didn’t feel it, we couldn’t protect us from legitimate threats.”

My greatest fear is a barking dog. It was a while ago , when I was six,my sister  gave me a note to deliver to her friend . I was happy to oblige her. It was early evening, I was almost close to the house, when I walked into the driveway,I noticed a few dogs in the veranda. I am not sure why I suddenly felt scared. I took slow steps,all the while thinking,’should I go or turn back’,the dogs probably sensed it, all of them jumped off the veranda and were coming towards me, they started barking , I was so terrified I began to run,the dogs came to the end of the driveway and stopped.

Fear Factor Live

Fear Factor Live (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I walked home crying ,I told my sister, I’d never take her notes to her friends. Now whenever I see a dog I am scared. My neighbor knows it, she is very sweet ,she locks her dog in the bedroom, so I can visit her.

SPEAKEASY 137 – Lemonade Girl

“Good news.   I got my transfer order. ” My father announced, “We’re going to Victoria, British Columbia!”

My sisters and mother were thrilled, “When are we leaving?! ” they asked.

“When will we stop moving?” I asked, upset at the thought of being uprooted.

“Maybe some day soon.” My father said gently.

He put the “For Sale” sign on the house the next day.  I stared at it sullenly.  Now I had to leave my friends all over again.  “There are many sacrifices to make,”  Mom lectured, “this is part of growing up.  You learn to adapt to whatever the future brings.”

Three weeks passed.  We sold our house, packed up and were ready to leave.  I didn’t want to move but I was a nine-year old boy, I had to go where my parents took me.   Mom registered us at our new school.   Wearily, I sat in a classroom of strangers.

Months passed and I started settling in.  On the walk home from school one day, my friend Michael told me where to get the best lemonade. I wasn’t a big fan of lemons, but I agreed to check it out.

That’s when I saw her, hard at work.   There was a sign in crayon on the table, hardly impressive and yet,  the line was getting longer.  Curiosity got the better of me –  I fished through my pockets for some change.  I gave her a dime and she passed me a cup. She smiled and said “Thank you” – suddenly, the sun was shining a lot brighter.  As soon as that refreshing elixir slid down my throat I knew I had discovered something incredible.

I was there every day, standing in line for a few sips of the magical potion and her pretty smile.  Twelve lemonades later, I learned her name was Sita.  She was eight and dreamed of managing her own store one day.  We became good friends.  Sometimes I sat with her and helped her at the lemonade stand.  It was set up in front of her house, and when all the lemonade was gone, I would help her carry in the giant orange pitcher and paper cups.  Then I would walk home with a little skip in my step.

“You’re in a good mood,” my mother would say as she prepared my supper.

“Must be all that lemonade he’s been drinking,” my father said with a grin.

The school year ended and summer began.  Sita and I continued to run the lemonade stand, but now it was a joint venture. I borrowed one of Mom’s pitchers and bought more supplies so we could keep up with demand.   Business was good and the summer was passing blissfully with shared dreams of lemonade domination.

One afternoon in late August, as I walked up the path to Sita’s house, I saw her father hammering a sign post into the front lawn.   Curious, I paused to look more closely.  My eyes began to water as he swung the sign around and I read the letters…”F-O-R  S-A-L-E”.

Sita stepped out of the house.  “You’re moving?” I said with a lump in my throat.

“Yes. Daddy has a new job.”

I didn’t wait for more, tears streaming down my face, I turned and ran back home.

“What’s happened?  Are you okay?” Mom said with a worried look.  In between sobs I shared my devastation.  She held me in her arms, “Don’t cry darling.  These things happen.  Everything will be fine, you’ll see.  We must adapt to what–”

“I don’t want to adapt!” I screamed as I ran to my bedroom.

I saw Sita the next day,  there was a sorrow hanging over my head that I could not shake.  I knew they would be leaving soon and I would never see her again.  Sita was optimistic, she said that once we grew up we would manage our own store and everything would be perfect.  I looked at her with pity and the wisdom of one who was a year older.  Two weeks later, they moved away.

Years passed and Victoria became my permanent home.   I was in college now, that first summer forgotten until I drove past my old neighbourhood.  There, in front of a familiar house were two kids selling lemonade.  Instinctually, I stopped and bought a cup for fifty cents.  One sip and I was hit with the memory of Sita’s pretty smile.

“From that day forward, every time I drove past that street corner, I thought of her.”


NaBloPoMo An Urdu Song Ranu’s post https://sabethville.wordpress.com

The last Mughul Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar II

The last Mughul Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar II (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This ghazal was written by Bahadur Shah Zafar. He was the last mughal emperor of India. He was a devout Sufi and also an Urdu poet.This ghazal(or poem) was his best.

My heart cannot rest in this destroyed land.

Who can be satisfied in this useless world.

The nightingale does not complain

about the guard or the hunter.

Fate has decided imprisonment

during Spring harvest.

Tell these desires to find

some other home.

There is no room for them

in this dishonored heart.

The nightingale is delighted

sitting on the branch of flowers.

While thorns are strewn

in my heart’s garden.

I wanted  a long life

all I got was four days.

Two I spent wishing  and two waiting.

My days are over

evening is here.

I shall sleep with

outstretched legs in my tomb.

Referring to himself he says,

How unlucky is Zafar!

For his burial,

He could not  even have two yards of

land in his beloved country!

He was exiled to Rangoon(Myanmar where he breathed his last)!

Translated by Ranu