Things do happen. The details around which you weave several fictitious sequences of life. It doesn’t have to be a beautiful place. Sometimes it’s a hospital canteen where they serve this amazing Chai Special. The smells of antibiotics make each sip heavenly. There’s a waiter who looks across from the serving desk. He bends a … Continue reading The hospital canteen sequence
The boy in white shorts
He may be a Catcher in the rye That you come across bye and bye To tangle you in his thoughts You know that boy in white shorts At dusk, he floats in the free skies While lying down on his back, with his eyes That inquire in wondrous whats You know that boy in … Continue reading The boy in white shorts
The Cemetery
I was 15 when I first saw the rays of the setting sun falling on the marble gravestone. That memory brings me back to St Stephen’s cemetery in Bandra. It’s been many years. It is still warm. Each inscription tells a tale of love. Of passions locked. Of tears shed profusely over dead dreams. Dreams … Continue reading The Cemetery
Touched by blood
She knew at once. She had touched the corner of his cloak in a swift movement. He had turned around, astonished. A cool audacious breeze blew sand and brushed her curly tresses. Most people shielded their eyes. She caught the dance of the palm leaves above her. Yet her world had seized in that moment. … Continue reading Touched by blood
Two-thirty
JENNA had made them angry again. Suddenly there was silence as they all shot her a furious look. A strand of hair flung across her face, her eyes dripping of arrogance. A dab of blue ink made an erratic shape near the front pocket of her white shirt. As she looked down at her canvas … Continue reading Two-thirty
Of drizzles and downpours
He saw her as Athena inside Parthenon that stands on a rock smugly looking down. She was the symbol of reign, a protector, a force still unfathomable to human. The temple illuminated his world as he lifted up his eyes. His feet froze in praise. She was the Aphrodite of his nights that blessed him … Continue reading Of drizzles and downpours
Old Mays
Be a futile quest, know no aim nor rest Or be an enquiry in oblivion, a heart’s cry in vain Let it fade on the horizon, and find it’s own hymn And scatter in sands, or sing deep in lands Dwell in minutes that tickle, in words so fickle Let a memory be born, let … Continue reading Old Mays
Insatiable
She imagines amid the dark clouds that hover on her mountains of sorrow to be a beauty, not the beholder Her agony rains, and downpours in cold seas and cutting waves And drops a drought in her soul There’s a nectar that flows in a stream nearby and leaves her eternally thirsty She … Continue reading Insatiable
Unapologetically impulsive!
If you are even slightly impulsive or have been so a few times, you would have some day picked up the pen and written this blog. Today it was my impulsive turn. It’s about time the word ‘impulsive’ gets listed in the curse-word category. And if we kept it up as a society, it would … Continue reading Unapologetically impulsive!
Why I never ‘reject’ a rejection?
Wow, that hurts! I feel pangs, in installments. Sometimes it just strikes all at once. Other times, it would jerk me out of my bed. The ego lies scattered in pieces on the floor. And reduced to a supposed self-respect that too is in shatters now. The heart shudders at the words. The first letters … Continue reading Why I never ‘reject’ a rejection?
