Silver Jubilee

(My father’s favourite) This is all courtesy of my lips and all the copyrightsAll the beguiling mystery and wonder some mightThe curve and stretch, the lines and groovesAnd hidden white shells, secret of twitch-in the lips. The day I married you, my luck was having a breakTissues in the pockets and snowflakes in the washerSocks

Tea or Coffee

A vote can decide the victor! What would you like to have in the beautiful evening of a magical mountain valley; Tea or Coffee? Drowning, not in the shame or sea, just in the morning peace and enjoying my beloved tea, an inspiration drove me to get up and grab my mobile. To my dismay,

Sequel

I am a lucky one. Now people curious as to why I am calling myself the lucky one may need to read “First Rain” to comprehend the matter. The one who has created me and these clouds – them even carrying so much water, do not come falling down with the weight – made me

First Rain

So, monsoon with “mitti ki soondhi khushbu” and accompanying relief from the blazing summer sun is here. At last! Masha’Allah. Today, our day started with rainy clouds and the blessed sound of rain. What a morning! Who else knows, how does it feel to sit under the vast blue sky turned dark with the impending

Tough talk

You know, time is precious. In terms of business people talking, time is money. For me, time is learning. We all have heard the phrase, “sands of time”. There are two most precious things in this world, in my humble but confident opinion; time and Innocence. Of course there are others. Well, innocence is the

In the name of love: Prologue

Prologue: Heer was sitting on a bedstead set at the roof. It was a clear night and moonlight was illuminating everything; the mountains, the trees, wrinkles of her face, the straight unsmiling lips and shadows hidden in her eyes. Her eyes were trained on her hands lying in her lap.   “So, I am old now.”

Nothing new

An old sore, abuse. Abuse breeds abuse. We have listened to and talked about it over and over again. But what good it has done. It is a never ending cycle. Abuse is a living, breathing, reproducing being. Yes, it has horns and an ever fire blowing nose. It’s sad. Sad. Whoever possesses power of

The Sketch

Your life is as much emptyLike the Sketch, I left in that roomHalf pencilledTo look and wonderFor you have erased meFrom that base butI am a part of you for eternityEven you beg me to blacken furtherThe page hung on that wallAnd I grant you the very wishI am lost to the windFoaming over the