Stupefied I stood; I waited frozen, in vain. All I could feel was a deep & numbing pain. Yes! I wanted desperately for it to begin again.   I looked to the heavens, I prayed & I pled; Before I gave in & even hope fled. I tried to …

You settle over me like a silent night that creeps slowly over the city. You swathe me in reams of abject despondency and melancholy self pity. Then like the critters of the night, I hear these voices that speak in my head. They make me doubt myself; say I am …

If I love you, would I then feel that tingling in my skin, the flutter in my heart? If I love you, would I then view the world through tinted lenses; while we live in stolen glances? If I love you would I make your world better? Would you be …

If memory serves me right then a memory cannot write. But I, just think that if they could, do you think they would? And if they truly could, then what it is that they would? Write, I mean? What would they write back about, the past is under a shroud! …

  Even though I am old and my bones are weary & creaking. My soul nurtures a wish for life; it wants to give it everything. It wants to live more, for yearning still holds court in my heart. Even though my body has given up, my mind wants a …

If memory serves me right, then I must say That I keep forgetting what I should remember.   I plunder into the depths of my brain, I rack it in order to ascertain; What it was that I was to remember?   Casting things asunder, I compartmentalize. Until I realize …

Like a lantern in the night sky that on a zephyr floats; In the empyrean garden, I let my hopes float too. The sylvan charms of life, coax my surrender But, I nurture a dream; I aspire to be. Buoyed by the melody that the gentle breeze sings, My marauding …

“Morning Luka. All set to go?” asked Neha stowing her gear and getting into the Taxi. She glanced at her watch. It read 10 am. “Good Morning Madam. Yes, we are all set. It’s a 4 hour drive to Alor so just sit back and relax. The route is quite …

  The weary wheels clattered on the cobbled street. The uneven paver blocks making them yo-yo in and out of gaps. The streets of Mumbai city are a veritable nightmare of potholes and uneven surfacing. But, the un-tarred by lanes are another story altogether. They are just narrow streets paved …

It was a dark, stormy night. The furious storm swayed the willowy boughs and made them lash forth. The wind raged in between the trees, whistling an ominous note.  It picked up piles of dry leaves and raised them in a veritable maelstrom. The cold October gale howled menacingly. The …