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21 ways of being happy book poster

21 Ways of Being Happy Book Review

Loved the conversational tone of the book. The author writes quite lucidly. She knows what she is talking about, and most of the things pop out right from her personal experience baggage. Her stories make the book fun to read. Also, they relate to us

an abstract image to depict diversity in people

Boundaries and Walls

People seek ‘their’ people in people When they get lost in an uncaring lot. They wear symbols to stand out, Carry clothes that talk loud of a place Demarked on a patch of land called home. They smile, when they do, at their reflections, And

pair of insane eyes image

Insane Eyes

Eyes of glory, Eyes with a story, You hold my gaze with reflections of a star; I think they are diamonds you wear for eyes. If you hadn’t turned around for a furtive glance, I might have failed to notice your eyes looking into mine,

books are parallel dimensions image the alternate universe

The Alternate Universe

Books are parallel dimensions, interwoven shades of reality hammered by our heads. It is a twitch in our brain that spurts out at contemplative junctures to say those right words that often end up being unsaid. They are also acts that never happened, the what

image of a baby for children of pain

Children of Pain

I know it is hard to get, But those little soft fingers You have rolled up in your palms Are anything but innocent; They have scraped against someone’s insides; You have come from a place of pain. They have suffered in silence When you were eating

image for missed deadlines in my head

Deadlines in My Head

Every second I am out of it. I feel like I am running out of time. That cliched image of me clinching sand as it slides past my palm paints the canvas in my head. I have created these little deadlines unknowingly, and I have

image of a road for the road poem

The Road

I am walking. I think I am; The road walks the other way. A tiny kiosk sells death in all sizes While people flock in huge numbers to die; They ask for their favourite cigarette flavours. A girl preens her hair trying to find What

fading time clockpunchers of IT

Clock Punchers of IT

They would rise in unison, walk around like ghosts and would fall into their chairs as if controlled by a remote. Their big hopeless eyes would stoop with them in their dullness. Their bleak lashes would then flap occasionally to reveal more dead inside –

image of a brain painting for unto comprehension

Unto Comprehension

People often implore; They want words to eat that make sense. They seek this from a twisted man Who is trying to understand What words mean in his head As they twine and whine and intertwine To spit out what glib isn’t, And the profound

image for broken people

Broken People

We are the broken people. The fallen souls. The shattered hearts. The twisted, constricted echoes of a hollow body. We don’t make a sound. We croon. We weep. We are always crying, fading away gradually from the inside. Our angst nibbles us every moment. It