Summer. One fateful summer day, when the sky was bluest of the blue, not a single cloud in sight. The sun shone in its brightest, the heat unbearable. I saw her, she was beautiful. She was sitting on a porch, she wore a white summer dress, her beautiful legs rested upon each other. Her brown … Continue reading SEASONS OF LOVE.
My poetry was born in dark silence.
My poetry was born in dark silence,Those days when I was not allowed to speak,And even if I had a chance, I was afraid to open my mouth,So I wrote,I wrote in blind rage,I wrote and wrote everyday as a coping mechanismor to cool off my anger and my frustration,I wrote words I could never … Continue reading My poetry was born in dark silence.
Stairs.
The sweeping stairs of Gangtok never stop to amaze me even if I have been using them all my life. All those winding trails, ups and downs and the tiled and slippery ones of the MG Marg. I tell all my friends and family to be careful while walking on those tiled ones, which seems … Continue reading Stairs.
The Nude Face.
As she took off her glasses, she felt naked as if she has been stripped off and exposed. This was her real face, hidden behind her dark framed glasses. If you look closer, you would notice dark shadows forming below her eyes, some people like to call it eyebags or dark circles, but she rather … Continue reading The Nude Face.
The Boy I Once Knew.
There are two kinds of people in the crowd, the one who stood out and the one who melted with the crowd. He belonged to the later. He was hard to notice, he had this powerful ability to melt with the crowds and become one. He was born with the most common features known to … Continue reading The Boy I Once Knew.
Draped by the society.
"Heard that you make tattoos?" She asked. Her beautiful brown eyes scanned the walls of my works on people's skin. Her eyes were the only thing that were unveiled, the expectations of the society draping her whole body leaving only her eyes as if to see the world but not be a part of it. … Continue reading Draped by the society.
An Illusionist.
He was an illusionist, Kept tricks under his sleeves, Bunnies and birds inside his hats. Brought smiles to the passerby, And wonders to the children . He was an illusionist. He won hearts of many, Even by his simple tricks. But what he wanted to win Was the heart of a lady A lady standing … Continue reading An Illusionist.
Summer Snapshots.
Summer morning at my village, North Sikkim.The little house was once my home, and now it's just an abandoned shack. Silent afternoon after the chaos. My siblings were tired and sleeping after throwing a fit. It's hard to be an elder sister. Cloudy and chilly summer afternoon, there were heavy downpours later. Its always raining … Continue reading Summer Snapshots.
He is fighting the November chills.
In the quiet night streets, his face glows with the streetlights that throws a detailed view to his wasted features. The sandy brown hair and his bony face with his brown eyes are the spectacular view of his face. The dark blue t shirt covered by his black leather jacket, his denim jeans and his … Continue reading He is fighting the November chills.
Memories of March: Story Slam at Chandigarh.
Chandigarh was covered with the color of fall, even though it was the month where people played with the color of spring. We made our way through the golden trail to our destination, The Rumor Mill Cafe at Sec-7. As we entered the venue, the sweet aroma of coffee hit me. It was my first … Continue reading Memories of March: Story Slam at Chandigarh.
