Daily writing prompt

If you could host a dinner and anyone you invite was sure to come, who would you invite?

View all responses

Hello dear friends,

I hope this blog finds you in a cheerful and contemplative mood.

Today’s writing prompt stirred my imagination like a ladle in a pot of rich, simmering curry:
“If you could host a dinner and anyone you invite was sure to come, who would you invite?”

What a delightful and profound question! It brings together fantasy, memory, longing, and even a dash of bittersweet reflection.

After all, a dinner table is more than just a place to eat—it’s a gathering ground for connection, a sanctuary for heartfelt conversation, and a mirror of our inner world.

So today, let’s set that imaginary table and invite our dreams to dine.

The Guests of My Imagination

If I had the divine power to summon anyone—living or gone, historical or personal, real or imagined—here is my dream guest list:

1. My Late Mother – The Quiet Strength

I would begin by inviting my beloved mother, whose wisdom continues to guide me long after her departure from this world.

She never raised her voice, yet her silence carried volumes of understanding. Her calm strength has become my anchor, especially during the storms of life.

She once told me something simple, yet transformative:
“Keep moving on from any situation, whether painful or joyful. Once you get stuck, your life also gets stuck there.”

These words, soaked in experience and maternal care, have become my life’s mantra.

I long to sit beside her once more, hear the rustle of her sari, and watch her smile as she passes me a bowl of warm khichdi. Just that moment of presence would be a priceless gift.

2. Rabindranath Tagore – The Mystic Poet

To host Gurudev Tagore would be to fill the room with verses and violin strings. His works have painted generations in hues of love, nationalism, and soulful introspection.

I would ask him: Did you ever fear the silence after writing? Did your pen tremble when you touched the divine?

Perhaps he’d recite a verse from Gitanjali over dessert, and the whole room would fall into reverent stillness. His presence would transform dinner into an evening of lyrical meditation.

3. My Granddaughter – The Joy of My Present

Among these spiritual giants, I’d lovingly invite my dear granddaughter. Her eyes are full of wonder, her laughter the purest melody

I know. I’d seat her between Tagore and my mother, so she could witness the lineage of love and wisdom flowing across generations.

I want her to know that age is no barrier to creativity or dreaming. That this table, rich with stories and hearts, is her inheritance—not of wealth, but of values, hope, and love.

4. R.K. Narayan – The Storyteller of Simplicity

A special place would be saved for R.K. Narayan, whose characters from Malgudi are as dear to me as old friends. His stories, humble yet profound, taught us that everyday life holds extraordinary magic.

I’d love to ask him how he found such depth in daily life—whether in a postman’s routine or a schoolboy’s mischief.

I imagine we’d laugh over tales of South Indian childhoods, sip filter coffee, and talk about how simple stories are often the hardest to write.

5. Arun – My Lost College Friend

Some chapters in life remain half-written. Arun, my close college friend, is one such story. He saw the artist in me long before I recognized it myself. We lost touch as time and obligations took us down different roads.

If he came, I’d offer him a warm hug and a cup of masala chai. I’d tell him, “You were right—I finally became a writer.” Perhaps, through this reunion, we’d start writing a new chapter together.

6. Mother Teresa – The Soul of Compassion

The table would not be complete without a soul of selfless service—Mother Teresa. Her compassion, unwavering and unconditional, still resonates around the world.

I’d ask her how she found the strength to serve in a world so wounded. Her presence would remind us all that true greatness lies in kindness. Her words, like gentle prayers, would soften every heart at the table.

The Menu: Flavors of Emotion

What would we serve at this unforgettable feast? Not just food, but nostalgia.
My mother’s dal makhani, crisp puris, and a steaming bowl of khichdi would take center stage.

We’d sip on rose sherbet and nibble on mango pickle as stories unfold like old photo albums.

There would be laughter, poetry, soft tears, and a silence so complete it would feel sacred. No phones. No distractions.

Only heart-to-heart conversations under the soft, golden glow of memory and meaning.

Why This Dinner Matters

This imagined dinner isn’t just an indulgent fantasy—it’s a form of healing. It would bridge the gaps between generations, offer closure where there’s longing, and breathe new life into connections that time has faded.

Each guest represents a piece of my soul: my roots, my inspirations, my future, my forgotten paths, and my highest ideals.

This dinner allows me to live the conversations I never got to have and cherish the ones I still can.

And You, Dear Reader…

Now I pass the ladle to you—if you could host a dinner like this, who would you invite? A parent you miss? An icon you admire? A friend you never got to say goodbye to?

Whatever your guest list may be, may your dinner be filled with meaning. Because in the end, life is a series of shared meals, shared stories, and shared souls.

Bon Appétit,
— Vijay Verma
www.retiredkalam.com

Categories: infotainment

Tags: #Family, #Life, #Love, dailyprompt, dailyprompt-1997, featured, fiction, writing