Maslin
Contributions:
@Blahkumaran:
Her ideologies were a maslin of Lenin, Stalin and Benjamin Franklin.
@an_usa_bar:
Its hard to define what I really feel when I have this maslin of emotions running through me.
@bossitive:
Why did I fail, Pep? I know that I'm gifted with a maslin of dribbles when my feet touches the ball, yet the opponent seemed to edge past me in a way or the other!", said an exasperated Robben after the champions league match drubbing against Real Madrid.
Guardiola immediately replied, "All you had to do was to pass the ball, Arjen. Pass!
@Shubhlime:
He was leaving and she was a maslin of emotions. She knew it would be a long time before she would get to see him, hold his hand, caress his hand and ruffle his mop of unruly hair. Later, she knew only a sense of loss would remain.
(Her blog link: https://medium.com/@Shubhlime/maslin-9fab449cc05f)
@MsMecheri:
And the winner is..." She stood still among the others and looked away. She had decided this would be the last shot she gave for she was tired of losing. This time her performance was a killer, yet she never could get herself to believe it were possible to get somewhere with this. Her mother came rushing to her out of nowhere and hugged her, 'You did it this time, my dear. You have made us all proud'. Shocked, surprised, yet tremendously happy, this maslin of emotions is what she always wanted to experience to be sure to continue her passion and musical journey ahead.
Dipak Rajput:
Chaos is not the word to describe our world. Content is not our world is ever going to be. All it was and it will be, is a kind of MASLIN...
Forever?
@moodytambrahm:
'Vocalist of the year competition'
Shreya hastily walked up and down the garden singing her lines over and over again. No amount of practice seemed to suffice. Rahman was the judge, and this was going to be the scariest, yet the loveliest challenge.
"Contestant number 73: Shreya" the host announced, and all her friends hooted and cheered her way to the stage. Thus began the performance.
She cleared her throat, stole a quick glance of her favourite music director, shut her eyes, and began with the first song. The song transported her to her childhood days, when this very same song would play on the radio first thing in the morning. Skillfully, she dived into the next song, upbeat in nature, which she and her brother would shout-sing sitting on their Tilak Street terrace. Eyes still shut, she could hear the crowd clap in beat with her. In a smooth transition, began the next track. The track that made her fall in love with the blue eyed boy in her college. Who also reciprocated her love. Till date. This song was composed for them. She opened her eyes strategically and made a 6 second eye contact with him. He smiled at her encouragingly. She then glided into her final song, one that she had looped over a million times, leaving her parents begging her to use the stop button.
She got off the stage, gleaming. All that mattered was that she sang to perfection, for what she had sung today was not just a medley of Rahman songs, but also a maslin of her life memories.
@WordSmithish:Shreya hastily walked up and down the garden singing her lines over and over again. No amount of practice seemed to suffice. Rahman was the judge, and this was going to be the scariest, yet the loveliest challenge.
"Contestant number 73: Shreya" the host announced, and all her friends hooted and cheered her way to the stage. Thus began the performance.
She cleared her throat, stole a quick glance of her favourite music director, shut her eyes, and began with the first song. The song transported her to her childhood days, when this very same song would play on the radio first thing in the morning. Skillfully, she dived into the next song, upbeat in nature, which she and her brother would shout-sing sitting on their Tilak Street terrace. Eyes still shut, she could hear the crowd clap in beat with her. In a smooth transition, began the next track. The track that made her fall in love with the blue eyed boy in her college. Who also reciprocated her love. Till date. This song was composed for them. She opened her eyes strategically and made a 6 second eye contact with him. He smiled at her encouragingly. She then glided into her final song, one that she had looped over a million times, leaving her parents begging her to use the stop button.
She got off the stage, gleaming. All that mattered was that she sang to perfection, for what she had sung today was not just a medley of Rahman songs, but also a maslin of her life memories.
Chandu loved the lemonade that ma made. As the clichéd goes, the maslin was also rich in her love. After a tiring evening, he would come home and have it along with his dinner. In those moments, he forgot the screams of his parents that were enough to shake the walls of the house. That day too, the day progressed and he was home after school. His lemonade was ready. In a quick gulp, he closed his eyes. After putting him to sleep, forever, his mom too jumped away from the misery of the life.
@sparklybat:
@myth_ology:
Akshit VS:
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