A dilemma in death

I won't that I spent the last twenty days writing this poem... but I hope it will make up for my absence. It would've been a tedious task, had it been some other day. A few steps more, and this will end -- climbing he'd say. Fifty floor's no easy trek, every man's privy to... Continue Reading →


The India of western media

The western portrayal of India is both amusing as well as annoying; and at times so uninformed as to verge on incredulousness. The pride which emerges on seeing India or an Indian in non-domestoc media is diminished even faster than its rise because of how ridiculous it appears. Probably they are too caught up with... Continue Reading →

Man and tiger

A man and a tiger Trapped in a cage With its doors closed. And the iron bars Rigid against his force. Much did he shout And beat his chest. Cried, shrieked and screamed For help. But no one opened the doors. They found him alive A night past Cowering in the corner – a huddled... Continue Reading →

What literature teaches us

"We don't need a list of rights and wrongs, a table of do's and don'ts: we need books, time, and silence. Thou shalt not is soon forgotten, but once upon a time stays forever." -- Phillip Pullman One of the most wonderful aspects of literature is its constantly evolving nature. Good literature has a perpetual... Continue Reading →

What makes us good?

What makes us good? Not the inherent morals in us, surely? There is no such thing as that when one comes to think on it. I try to be good too. A good person who has a set of principles to act upon, a sense of right and wrong. I might not be right but... Continue Reading →

A speck of dust

Like a speck of dust In the air, That floats on, through Vibrant lands and Oceans vast. A traveller, His valour not unknown to all Yet lost in the din of the world around. Not remembered once, Forgotten ever. Like a lore of old, A fable never told, Is a man. Always in a quest,... Continue Reading →

The perks of being a shirt

I have gone through more transformations than a butterfly does in its lifetime, yet I am only a year old. My earliest memory of childhood is of bouncing in the captivity of the cotton pod as it swayed in the wind. I yearned to be left just as I was while throngs of sweating men... Continue Reading →

A farewell

A poem of more recent device... . The smell of flowers hit him as he entered bringing with him news, and stories – lots of them. She loved them and he knew it though no one had bothered to tell.   Tales of wonder and adventures, magic and love left his mouth with ease. As... Continue Reading →

The wasp and me

There are two subjects in this case. The first one, as you can gather, is myself. The other one is an insect which, due to my lack of knowledge in entomology, will henceforth be referred to as the wasp. Now, don’t go assuming that it’s another mundane story about a victim of wasp-stings. Such prejudices... Continue Reading →

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