Sonal Singh

I believe that life is a repertoire of anecdotes. The various situations that we encounter, the many incidents of every day, the people we meet, our conversations with them; all make life a melange of tales. And, that is what I attempt to capture through my writing. My cooking is no different! It reflects my love for travel and my love for innovation. The kitchen is my happy place. So, even though by vocation I am a recruiter (www.rianplacements.com), by passion I am a writer, home chef and a hodophile.

Prayag Raj

At the confluence of two mighty rivers, Stands a city tall and proud. With roots steeped in ancient India It struggles to embrace today. The fort on the river bears testimony To the battles fought It stands in derelict neglect by the river Saluting the bygone. Sentinel-like the Akshayavat spreads …

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To my martyred father

  To my martyred father, my proudest salute I shall not shed a tear, will not cry; I am resolute. To my aggrieved and widowed Mother I say,   “Mother, wipe your tears. Do not cry. Nay! Hold your head high and keep walking on tall My Father died defending …

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Take control

  She had lived in the shadows for far too long, It was time to emerge out, confident & strong.   It was time for a change, in herself & her world, Time to become a woman; from just a wee girl.   The time was right to wrest control …

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Insomnia

It sneaks up on me in the silence of the night Although I try to ward it off with all my might But its tentacles dig in, plant their seeds deep O at its invasion my insomniac soul does weep. For I know that there goes another night’s rest Some …

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The new bride

She walks around the ceremonial fire In all her finery, in her wedding attire. Eyes downcast, hooded, shy and coy Shining with & yet hiding her desire.   Demurely yet assuredly, behind the boy She walks, her sadness tinged with joy. Bedecked in gold jewels, attired in yellow Do unbidden …

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Regret

‘If only,’ I muse staring at nothing My conscience pricking, gnawing, Clutching at my remorseful heart Beating to torturous reminders.   The dark shadows of the past intrude, They creep up silently to my present They overwhelm, threaten to engulf Me in emotions that I have held at bay   …

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You are not alone

Steal the quiet of the Star-spangled night; borrow the calm of the gently lapping sea Let the breeze billow through the trees. Sit; inhale the serenity of the predawn. Let it seep in though the pores of your skin let it run in your veins like a crimson tide, Swashing, …

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My sodden lids

Teetering on the brink of my rim fringed with curling lashes, Dissonant they wait tentatively seeking permission to flow. Perhaps the shadows of the past intrude, impinge on today? Creeping up in weak moments they lay siege on my heart.   My sodden lids bear the brunt of the sorrowful …

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The road oft traveled

On a road oft traveled, the one that leads to something We all traverse, trudging on, plodding on in anticipation That it will lead us somewhere, to an end that is coveted. We walk, at times alone and single, at others with a mate Who in sickness and in health …

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Dancing to a symphony

It echoes, it reverberates; the music; Unmindful I dance, in a tantric trance. Letting out frustration and all my angst As if one; I and my shadow romance.   We thump the floor, we ebb and flow Like a rowdy tide, crashing to shore. We gyrate, we undulate, all together …

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