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Continue reading →: Rigmaroles of NeverlandIn a world divided by genders, can love still find its way through the maze? Sounds quite imaginary. RIGHT?
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Continue reading →: The Bond We SharedTwenty years ago on a windy night,We got married. We are still together.We still go to the movies, like we used to.We still make love, like we used to.We have no children, like we used to.But we are still together, like we used to. She says, “You don’t love like…
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Continue reading →: HomecomingI I see the man on the ledge Walking down the path Rather crawling in fatigue, Smile on his face, Smirking at me, mocking me, The night creeps on him Covers him from all sides Drives him crazy. II I see the man everyday Walking down the path Rather crawling…
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Continue reading →: BloodbathBroken glass, I have seenBrutality, a cup of teaWith morning paper, rape and murder;Soiled dresses,Carried in a body bagLump of flesh or extinguished ember? Processions, protests and promises,Cycles of delusions?Or rebirth of a dead conscienceWalking on a tightrope?Your life, I have seenAlways on ledges.Friend or damned foe?I can’t tell.Disguise or…
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Continue reading →: To My Didi Who DaredDear Didi, Today is Rakhi Bandhan, Today is the day you used to pray for my protection But no one was there to protect you. I’m not crying…Trust me I am not…Okay maybe a little…Yes, my pillow is soaked.Look what a fine mess you’ve created.Look what you have done to…
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Continue reading →: Last SongTo the dying songbird, I lamented, “O’ dear, can’t you sing for one last time, only for me?” “Hear the hyenas tearing up my skin. It will be a faint drum beat in the making.The buzzing flies will find solace in my body. I’ll be immortalized by being a refugee…
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Continue reading →: To The Butchers Of My ChildrenNever think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime. Ernest Hemingway O the butchers of my children! I am writing this letter on an exploded mortar shell The shell that you dropped from your war machines You dropped them on the roof of the…
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Continue reading →: The Bond We Shared (II)“When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” Khalil Gibran Twenty years have passedSince I last wrote about her.We are still alive, but feeble.We still are like children, but old.Our bond has…
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Continue reading →: My Response
Unraveling the mysteries of life and tapping into the psyche of a person in need of help. It’s not a spiritual thing or anything mystical, it’s as simple as just talking and trying to understand and sympathize with person in front of you. It might not make them better or…
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Continue reading →: An Elegy of a LullabyHow do you feel when you bleed? Does it feel like the pain will vanish, when there is nothing left to bleed anymore? Does it hurt like stepping on seashells barefoot on a stony beach, while running in vain after the waves of the treacherous sea? How does it feel…
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Poetic Stories 