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Writing with the five senses gives your story or article depth. Sensory details make your story come alive. Try looking at the sun, a tree, a flower or even a leaf and describe it using your five senses.

   Here are three samples of descriptive writing written by my ex-students who are also members of the ‘Writestuff Writers’ Club.’ The first one is a description of a tree.

Tree-d softly, for you tread on my dreams   -  by Phorum Pandya

The sunrays maze their way through his sleepy leaves every morning, as the wind tickles the branches, sending goose bumps down his bark. He tries to catch the wind  but she escapes – each time. She calls him an old man. ‘I’ll catch you one day,” he  whistles through the rustling leaves.

He loves the summers, for no one can scold him for skipping his bath. He stretches out his branches, and a tiny little pink leaf flutters open.
Like a hammer that hits the nail, a woodpecker’s beak pecks upon his dark, rusty bark. Just what I needed, he smiles to himself, as he beckons it to scratch harder. In minutes, his spa treatment is in full swing:  crows twirl their feet around his branches; the cuckoo pokes straws, twigs and wires to make its nest, and the barbets flap about squealing lustily.

Rolling his tongue on his dry lips, he wriggles his toes. A fresh, cool drink of water from the earth rises up his xylem, quenching his green thirst. He wonders what nutrients the pantry will serve him today. His roots have been the victim of cost-cutting these days. Thank god the rains will be here soon, for he misses the curries and soups.

Noontime, he looks up at the sun, staring right into its face, soaking all the Vitamin D he can. If he does his job well, may be the roots will send something delicious up my phloem, he prays.  

He looks down on the ground at his shadow: “I seem to have lost weight,” he announces aloud. Life in the woods is good, in all its seasons - when the winter makes fun of his nakedness and the spring dresses him up like a participant of a queer parade, the rains soak him from head to toe.

He looks around, basking in the happy thought that makes every little thing seems perfect. His gaze falls on the rusty saw - sitting on the shoulder of a woodcutter - laughing at him. He closes his eyes, allowing the beautiful life to lurk just a little longer. The woodcutter stops right in front of him.  

Phorum is a Senior Features writer at Hindustan Times.

   In the following passage Ahil Amar describes a fresh mint leaf

Light, small like a feather fits in your palm. Smooth like a baby’s cheek yet wrinkly as an old man’s skin.
Take a smell and it fills your lungs with freshness and in you want some more. Besides the lungs it gives a fresh-shot to your brains and it stays there lingering, opens up your mind with one whiff!
Chew it, it’s a mint blast, freshens your mouth and with a gulp you feel the freshness right to your stomach, highlighting every internal organ on it way…
It looks like the map of Mumbai pointing out the roads and the three railway life lines of Mumbai city stretching all the way through the ends of the leaf.
It is green in color, the color of prosperity, the color of money. The color of morning freshness, when you walk in the park and everything feels like and smells like the first rain!
The rustling of its leaves, when attached to the branches,  sounds like the waterfall fiercely hitting the rocks a hundred feet below except this is a thousand times softer.

Ahil has recently joined FCB Ulka Advertising as a junior copywriter.

 Anuradha Iyer describes a mint leaf to a blind friend.

Sandeep, the mint leaf is shaped like a baby’s eye, large and round like a grape, with soft little grooves and a pointed end.

It’s crisscrossed with tender veins that look like your hand with its palms outstretched.

Can you smell the clarifying fragrance of the mint? Crush some of it and inhale the aroma for an instant pick me up, no matter what your mood.

Bite into a crunchy leaf, Sandeep, and let the tingly crisp taste of mint linger on your tastebuds, even as it shoots a pleasant shock to your nervous system.

Sandeep, the softness of its *body* is like a woman’s skin, tender to touch and incredibly soft like the finest silk.

 Can you hear the tart sound of a knife slicing through a crisp apple? That’s how the leaves sound when they rustle in the breeze. Crush the tender leaf in your palm and it sounds like a warm soft whisper in the dark.

Anuradha has just finished a course in Advertising and Marketing at XIC.

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Thought for the Day

Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer - Barbara Kingsolver