Friends aren’t Forever

We have all been in a situation when we have lost touch with people we are close to. It could have been a friend, or a lover, sometimes even parents. It is mostly friends that pop into the mind when we talk about losing touch. There are often a lot of things left unsaid and…

Book Review #10: Dalits, Dynasty and She by Sanjay Chitranshi

After a long hiatus from reviewing, I have decided get back into the game with greater vigor. I have read a lot of books since the last series of reviews were published and I intend to catch up on them in terms of reviews. For today, I decided to review “Dalits, Dynasty and She” by…

Book Review #9: After Dark by Haruki Murakami

When you get accustomed to a particular writer’s work, even a slight aberration in the style, tone or language strikes you more profoundly than usual. This was exactly my reaction to Haruki Murakami’s “After Dark“. I picked up the book during my summer vacations in my continuing attempt to catch up on Murakami’s bibliography as…

Like Hemingway

She lies peacefully, an epitome of serenity in a cloudy puff of white mattresses. Her even breathing emanates like a rhythm, of a long lost song of intimate benediction, of a gaily song of love. The sound of silence falls over the room, like a shroud. I just lie there gazing at her silhouette rise…


Memories, damning memories, A Deluge of happiness, bursting forth, In a climax of hurt, pain and regret, The Memories, they keep coming. Of  You, the times, the moments, Mistakes, always ending in mistakes. All the loving, the care, the tenderness,

The Final Straw

How can I be without you, my moon, my love, the light of the life? Aren’t we made of sterner mettle? Aren’t we two indecipherable forces with an infinite capacity to love? Aren’t we the beginning, the end and all that comes between? Aren’t we two travellers under the sun, journeying together in this life?


Broken, Mirrors, Furniture, Life. Broken, Hearts, heads, Humility. He stands upright, Delectable, Respectable, Despicable, Senseless, Hopeless, Less, A trail of blood and a legacy in fire. The destroyer, the demon, Ozymandias, The last of them, the first of many.

Dead Men Walking

    We are all dead men walking, Trudging to the end of time, Going through meaningless lives, half lives  Morbid, morose, melancholy. Through the annals of the rose, We come forth like the autumn winds, We are ingrained in the ways of life, Sickness and sorrow and love abound. Then into the world we…


My being is unraveling inside,  Every particle screaming in a hidden pleasure,  Of something long lost,  Something left behind,