Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Theme 117 - Catharsis

From @deescjockey: He painted the colours of the Flag on his cheeks, donned a white topi and kick-started his Splendour. The red signal does not matter today; fifty bucks took care of the policeman and he reached in time to join in the war cry against the Corrupt System, to fight for his country, to feel pure.

From @TheScotchGirl:

He could not handle this situation.
He was running out of options to save this.
He was always in control. Why now?

Let me sleep on it he says to himself.
Next morning, his mind is purged of all memories.
He’s decided; let her take a fucking walk in the park.
He no longer cares.

From @slokabs: Vasudha was undergoing teenage crisis. She was falling behind in school, hormonal changes got irritating and peer pressure was having serious repercussions. Worse, everyone gave advice when all she wanted was for them to listen! Feeling strangled, venting out her frustration on her best friend was rejuvenating. It almost recharged her to face the crap!

From @FateMarfatia:

Sunny almost emptied her box of tissues watching Alice’s dying father on television.

A sudden blabbering of Crazy Frog ended her reel life induced misery as she reached for her phone.


“Your father is out of danger!”

Sunny quickly grabbed the last one left in the box.

Tears are cathartic, hers were also versatile.

From @vagabondinact:

Angel: You cannot enter. You do not belong here.
Man: Why not?
Angel: All your life down there, you sinned, you were the demon.
Man: I regularly went to temples, I prayed, I even shared my spoils with your master, every Tuesday I abstained, wasn’t that enough Catharsis?

From @CruciFire:

His heart was heavy.
His soul bled.
His body had to follow someday.


A tear ran perpendicular to the red line trickling down his arm and his dimpled cheeks made way for a contented, self-assuring smile.

'I will be free again. Pure. Clean.', he thought.

If only it was so easy.

From @kunalbaidmehta:

As a kid, putting pen to paper was like a catharsis for him. It allowed him to escape to a make-believe world from the stress of his boring life.

But things had changed nowadays, as all the writing  was happening through keyboards and screens.

Who had the time to find a pen or a paper?

From @roshd: Do  machinations, bribes, black money, power games, naked ambitions, gamesmanship, corruption and greed end up completely polluting the person? I mean physically? Is it possible that the rot sets in so completely that the liver is poisoned beyond repair? I am yet to hear of a liver transplant that can heal the soul.

From @vchatting: He looked the bored introvert co-passenger on train. More settled in the journey, she randomly asked him if he was married? His broken marriage tumbled out, trickling perhaps, years of bottled up pain, in two tears. He'd been tell someone, anyone... She'd been cathartic for him, served her reason to be on that journey.

From @loonytoon: She spilled the beans before making soup out of it. Arts sophomore she was. Painting was to catharsis to her. How long was the question. From one to another, ricocheted, blunting was in effect. Then she finally drew her lines that  held colors. A somber piece held in a tight snog..

From @vivekisms: It had not been easy for him. He remembered when it had been. The joy rushing through his veins. The uncontrolled happiness. He pondered. The times he could have jumped off a cliff. He knew he would never feel like this again without her and so he did what he could. He cried.

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