A world of words, stories and reflections
... Says the weather report. Sounds like life on the daily front. A little bit of this and a little bit of that and at the end all is just a downpour. Rains are like life. They are pleasantly simple to happen if you read the water cycle in grade 4 science text book but... Continue Reading →
Sometimes there is night with clear starry sky when clouds are at bay and the eyes try to figure out constellations from old grandma's stories. The breeze just can't remain still and slowly tiptoes around brushing past our skin. That is the night when the moon glows with a Cheshire Smile. Writers and poets are... Continue Reading →
Read the Heart's feelings top to bottom ↓ (heart) Fuck off! (head) (head) Can we amicably sort this out? (heart) (heart)The hell out of my life (head) (head) We can still be friends (heart) (heart) I don't want to see your face (head) (head) I will be around when you need me (heart) (heart) I loved... Continue Reading →
With so many roles to play, there is always a little less of me. I wonder if I lived in that little girl who smiled wide standing by the sea, knowing she was the perfect one to be clicked. I wonder if I lived in that school girl who was fiercely loyal to her cult... Continue Reading →
... Note to myselfYou are broken not deadJust like Potter of whom you readBenign, bent maybe but not irreparable All you need is to find that needle & threadOr a brush to stroke away the scarsInto a series of art, a pen to createWords engraved to many hearts Money is a great levellerBut the soul... Continue Reading →
North Indian plains are on burnout mode. The peak summer has overstayed and currently feels like an unwelcome guest who refuses to leave. Yes, the guest who raids your fridge and leaves empty bottles in the rack for you to find just at that very moment you want a chilled glass of freshness down your... Continue Reading →
A Handful of Mountainsliving in my eyes,snowcapped peaksor conifers echoing of blue magpies.Wind rustles secrets into the Deodar's grove,pinecones playing along the hilly road.A walk down the jungle pathor a lazy afternoon after दाल-भात!Bring me back to the mountain lifeA window overlooking the valley,A door opening to a hilly ride.-Vibha
waves of cloudsrolled on my patiowet summer Ah yes, the pluviophile is alive again. Indian summers seem to be taking a colonial stance; it has rained every summer in the last three years. The air seems breathable. It isn’t a heavy downpour and neither do the clouds seem to be in a heated argument, the... Continue Reading →
It is extremely humid today. The sunrise stole its way through the clouds into the morning. If I am to believe the peacock's gossip, we can expect rains today. I think I just heard the nightjar's call which is surprising. Maybe it is confused about the hour of the day with the clouds around, or... Continue Reading →
We are in lockdown once again. This time the enthusiasm to save the word is dented by real data of people suffering. The chefs of last year have calmed and indulgence is at its lowest. But nature is still at work. It never stops healing. In between all the manmade chaos, I take a moment... Continue Reading →
