I started comprehending your silences that were louder than any scream. And only then I got a glimpse of your soul, pure and untarnished.

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flexing the muscles inside my brain by reading regularly. It helps later to gather fodder for my writing. A reader can always be a writer. But a writer essentially needs to be a reader.

-

our own ways
trying to reach
that coveted destination
where success and happiness
reside in bliss.

-

I sat for three hours;
waiting for you
to keep your promise.
Little did I know
that you were
just a dream.

-

flitting in and out
of each other's lives;
never contented enough
to rest awhile
together on a leaf.

-

of stories
that are yearning
to be told.
They find their way
to the reader
hoping
to touch a chord
in their hearts.

-

Paint your canvas
with hues of
enchanting creativity.
It might ignite
a fresh hope
amidst the
mundane realities.

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Some memories are like that gardenia that Amit chanced upon while driving down a narrow alley one evening. As he climbed down from the car to pick it up, the delicate fragrance engulfed his senses. Amit decided to put the flower inside his dashboard. The busy bank manager then promptly forgot all about it. Many springs later, Aparna discovers it and gazes upon him with a hundred questions in her eyes. Oblivious of its presence there Amit is filled with a wistful yearning. Upon realising this she encourages him to put the weathered flower on her lustrous braid. As Aparna captures the moment on her mobile Amit's heart overflows with gratitude for life's small miracles.

-

that I am perfectly imperfect. However I am resilient enough to shine bright on most days trying to illuminate the lives of others.

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May the window
to your soul
reflect who you are
without any apology
to anybody ever !

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