Into the valley descends a pathway, ornately balustraded with trees. It weaves a track between a lush tapestry of wooded foothills. Sequestered here in this valley a creek tinkles a rhapsody of tunes. It lies amid a sunlit patchwork of pastoral lands that have withstood time. Under the canopy of …

Drenched in a spun golden hue Resting on the viridescent jade canopy Embodying a beauteous visage in bloom A golden shower tree stands tall My heart rejoices at its sight  

Does she peek in or does she peek out? Is she a butterfly or a dreaming moth? Will she spread her wings, flutter away? Or will she sit, with the silence sway? Like a demure maiden, will she acquiesce? Or like one emboldened, will she egress? What’ll be her decision, …

  The incessant running, the travel, the waiting in lounges, Reek of a life that is always racing to someone else’s beat. Hard as we try, the running does not stop, we do not halt; In the melee to beat time, we run, unending in a loop.   But should …

Afar on the horizon the sun sinks Low, hiding under the shadows of night, Leaving behind hues of resplendence That awaken a yearning, a longing. Here I sit transfixed, gazing at the Vista; At the beauteous visage of the sunset. To me it seems like dreams woven in Gold that …

I feast my eyes as I lie under the star encrusted sky; Under the gazillions of stars that twinkle and glitter, Sprinkled high up, like in Van Gogh’s starry night. They soothe my depleted spirit, they make me sigh.   But I know deep in my heart that all that …

Eternal springs love Resplendent in vivid hues rejoicing in spring Ah! the rich blossoms Buzzing busy with the bees the fragrant gardens Butterflies flutter Kissing the shy, dainty blooms Floating on zephyrs Image – Joshua Naidoo via unsplash

I jumped up, I grasped and clutched. Alas! Doubt invaded, my feet lurched. My hand faltered, hovered near the goal But unsure, I questioned my own role.   “Do I deserve it, or do I not?” I thought Negativity & pessimism in my mind fought. My beclouded brain got more …

This story won me the coveted Gitesh Biva Memorial Award ——————————————————————— The sun peeked into her basement apartment from the window high up, near the ceiling. It was the only time that she got any sunlight, in the late afternoon. Sitting at her desk Anne opened an unread mail in …

Elections loomed. The party electoral campaigns were funded by contributions from wealthy industrialists. But this year the donations to the party fund had been insubstantial. Some regular contributors had yet to donate. The party treasurer was unhappy as he took the account statement to the Minister. The deficit needed to …