Originally posted on Literary Lemonades: All the good stories are out there waiting to be told in a fresh, wild way. I didn’t say that; it was Ray Bradbury, but I could not have agreed more. The world around is brimming with stories and ideas and as writers, we have the ‘unique privilege’ to bring…
Originally posted on Literary Lemonades: She began to crawl and she began to cruise and she learned to utter ‘yes’ and ‘no’, But no one remembers just when that baby girl actually began to tiptoe. The memory of her first walk lies fresh and prim in the mind, But no one knows just when did…
कलम is the Hindi word for a pen. This poem is about my state of mind as I constantly look around for stories and yet when I write something, I don’t know how it came about. It’s almost as if the pen and paper had a mind of their own 🙂
I visited Varanasi last year and clicked this picture during my boat ride across the river Ganges. There was something about these shivering reflections that stayed with me all this time and today, when I began to write my first Haiku, this image was all I could think of.
In a world where female athletes are comfortably mocked on their lack of femininity and girls are expected to ‘look like girls’, it’s necessary to emphasise how women, even today, face an illusion of choice.
This poem is the byproduct of anger against the burning of over 30 schools in the Kashmir valley amidst civil unrest. It is disturbing to see how low humanity can stoop and what horrors it can bring forth.
As I stepped out of the building, the evening sun washed me over as if it was trying to have a final word before it leaves, followed by another familiar feeling. It was the petrichor. The wondrous fragrance of the first rain of the season.