Following my heart, Daring to dream, Living without regrets
We live in unprecedented times’ — how often do we hear this these days? The phrase has been abused, and I risk repeating it at the cost of sounding cliche. ‘Death’, as in Emily Dickinson’s poem, is stopping by, whether or not someone stops for it. He has proved to be an avid traveler and travels quicker…
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I don’t know which phase of the ‘lockdown’ or the ‘release from lockdown,’ phase we are in. I’ve lost track. It’s now…let me count…from 22nd March till date…around four months since this never-ending nightmare began. For all those who’ve counted, it’s 116 days as I write this and since I started doing the cleaning, mopping,…
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I’ve lost count of days. It’s almost a week now since schools and offices have been shut to avoid spread of the virus. We’ve been sitting indoors venturing out infrequently for groceries and for a breath of fresh air.The streets are relatively empty and so are the shelves in the neighborhood supermarket because people…
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It’s that time of the year in India, when you find students pouring over their books, papers, laptops. I see them with their noses dipped at the building gates awaiting the school bus, in the coffee shop with their ear phones on – to shut the noise out, on park benches amidst cawing crows and…
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Wrote this poem on the prompt “Satan”. I see him busy destroying the world, wreaking havoc. I see him in broken relations around me. And then at times, I see him closer, at my doorstep. I saw it that day, The glint in her eyes, vicious, dark, disquieting I heard what she…
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Eúnoia 
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