Losing My Only Friend
Oh mother! Oh mother! My only friend is gone. What am I gonna do now? When will I laugh, And how will I smile? You have taken away my playthings. What will I play with now? I have no toys left. Who will I tell
Oh mother! Oh mother! My only friend is gone. What am I gonna do now? When will I laugh, And how will I smile? You have taken away my playthings. What will I play with now? I have no toys left. Who will I tell
I heard love died yesterday, It was murdered— Foul play. A bow of distance, The weapon of choice, Slain by the very Cupid’s arrow That had birthed it once. In the reasoning of time, One falls short of words And fails to understand— Where did
Tears trapped in my eyes, From a past war Waged on my body. But my mind still carries Its wound— PTSD Is what they are calling it. I guess every feeling has a name. But I don’t know how A mere thought can be so
Last week, on my way to Ahmedabad, an adolescent stray dog was running along the edge of the road, still capricious, unaware of the dangers of the road and the speeding traffic. It suddenly veered off the rails and leapt to the right, playfully chasing
The Convent is a product that originated from one of my websites, The Darkest Blog—a place where all my fearful, anxious thoughts gathered to create stories out of thin air. Some were narrations, while others were pure figments of my imagination. I kept building upon the blog,
बादल, चंदा, तारे एक तरफ, पर सूर्य हमारा अतुलनीय। हमारे आसमान का पहरेदार,एक लौता ब्रह्मांडीय जीव, हमारे किरमिच की शान,अकेले ही बढ़ाता, जिसके चारों ओर हमचक्कर लगाते। और क्यों न लगाएँ? चीज़ ही है ऐसी! हमारे अवकाश का तर्क,हमारे अस्तित्व का कारण, दिन भर साथ
Sometimes, I feel the universe has a way of keeping certain things inaccessible—so that only when the timing is right, the doors finally open for you. This book had been sitting with me for more than a decade, and surprisingly, I never found enough time
So many days have gone by since Rafa announced his retirement. When he handed us the memo, I said to myself, It’s still not the final goodbye. The Davis Cup was still left—the last tournament where he was actually going to rest his sword. I kept busy,
You might have often come across the question, “Are you a beach person or a mountain person?” I couldn’t help but wonder why conversations are always limited to these two obvious choices. Have you ever paused to consider how each one makes us feel? It’s
If things begin to spiralDown the rabbit hole,I would want you toLeave this poor sod alone.It’s a journeyTo the center of the earth.I can’t pull you down with me;You are not meant to burnLike us flammable.Not everyone shares a common fate;Some people are giftedWith graceful