There are times when I feel absolutely helpless. So often, I’ve wondered if there’s anyone on this entire planet with a definite answer to my longstanding question. Someone who truly understands my condition and carries a surefire cure in their satchel. Not even a search engine
I recently returned from a wedding event held in my village, Alawalpur, Patna, Bihar. It was an endearing celebration that felt like a unique blend of culture and tradition. One of our cousins was getting married, and our little house couldn’t have been more lively
Sometimes I think we’re irreparably woven into the fabric of time—as if time isn’t as linear as it seems but rather layered, with countless convolutions intersecting, tangled together in a vast yarn. A thread impresses itself upon other threads, leaving traces as you navigate through your
Change that manTurn him into someone else—We didn’t like the first guy anyway.He smiled too wideLooked too happy.Wipe that grin from his face,Okay, let him keep half of it.We aren’t monsters—But let’s make him one. Bulge his eyes,Burn his ears,Slap his cheek so hardIt rings
Recently an elderly couple, who didn’t have their children around, were struggling with technology. They came to me, and I was happy to help. It was no big deal for me, but it was for them because their whole lives depended on it. Their limited
When you have places to go,Miles to walk,And sometimes, more often than not,You stumble and fall.Find your wayOut of the hole,And somehow, you always,Get pulled down.Remember—Down is only a direction,And it’s okay to go there too,Just as you move left and rightOr row through lifeBack
I happened to come across a video of an artist performing fluid art in which they tie a paint bucket with a hole in it to a string. The artist then allows Earth’s gravity to take charge, creating a painting. The resulting image is similar
A torrent of tormentWhen it passes through life,It leaves behind a rare calm,For you to gather the piecesAfter the storm.The drumming and howlingOf last nightHave died down,Along with your hopesFor the familiar sun.The wind has droppedIts gears of introspection,To count your deadAnd find the breathing.Go!
At times, I feel God has plans for everyone. If you don’t believe in the adage “man makes his own destiny,” then you are left with the option of believing in some incomprehensible force that gets things done for you. It is hard not to
Ticking clock,Loud breath,Heartbeats,Wet eyesStare at the door to open,Waiting for my saviourTo emergeAnd save me from –An empty room of solitude,And a heart ache.What’s a few more days,When you have waited a lifetime?Every hourGrieves your painful absence,And curses the time spent without you.These empty arms