Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table

Under the gnarled boughs of the aging banyan In the courtyard, Beneath the canopy of the jade leaves fluttering To gentle breezes, Grandma would sit, with her books strewn around. Welcoming with a smile, arm outstretched in greeting She would beckon. Eagerly we would cluster around, on our haunches On …

An unassuming, easy going lad, Sunny soon made friends, the dearest being Monty (or Mohinder) who lived a few Kothi’s down, in the lane. As different as chalk and cheese, the boys soon became bosom pals. While Sunny was shy and timid by nature, prim and proper in his British manner; Monty was mischievous, inquisitive and always keen to explore. A die hard Hardy Boys fan, Monty introduced Sunny to the world of mystery books and both boys spent many happy afternoons butting heads over mystery stories.

The brooding blues of your days And the bleeding red’s of mine Hold us at bay, as sightless we Navigate these treacherous lanes Of our hearts, beating in tandem.   In this pantomime we call our life We waltz together, enshrouded By the deep shadows of our past Fearful that …