Sleeping under the stars, I think of you and your moon-like face shines in my dreams. The liquor heavy breath of the cleaner boy wakes me up. Dawn break is still an hour away, but we need to drive on – to reach destinations where you wait. Three Line Tales #Week 55
She had come a long way. The baby girl who survived being thrown against the wall in her infancy, the girl who borrowed books to quench her thirst for learning, the girl who ran away from home to find a new life and landed in a brothel, the girl who poisoned the ‘madam’ to get … Continue reading She won the battle
She aced cricket, topped the class in Mechanical Engineering, and moved on to become CEO of a company. Our friends teasingly refer to me as Prince Philip, the one who walks a step behind his wife. I’m happy to be her support, the ‘man behind her success’. News channels speak of the largest corruption scandal … Continue reading Glass door
ethereal joy plays hide and seek with me now here, now gone intangibility of shadows dancing in the sun In other words, dancing at Patricia's Place
Heeding Haiku with Chevrefeuille
“They are on Barnard b. Look at the pictures he sent.” “They sent pictures from six light years away?” “That’s not much. Scientists say there is a possibility of life, because of geothermal vents.” “And your guys have even built houses there? I guess the first business to exist there would be real estate.” “Oh, … Continue reading Many more suns…..
“Why do you insist on immigration? This is the place we were born in, and belong to.” “The pot has got to be where the fire is, if anyone is hungry. It is the law of survival.” (175 characters) Twittering Tales #119
hanging illusions set the sky on fire -blues unaffected false ceilings cannot contain imagination -a poet dreams liquefied warmth colors the canvas -an artist recreates points of view create stories -the world consumes What do you see?
seconds, minutes, hours days, weeks and months fly calendars change fluttering pages create no magic staircases have no red carpets climbing as arduous it has always been. I’ll rise with the sun tomorrow and dream of magic – next year Tomorrow is just another day. (44 words) Quadrille #71
eccentricity dances - on breaking free from dark, inner demons lost in magnanimity of all hues of forgiveness Weekly Writing Prompt #176
Creative Experiments and More 