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.
Sessional and Burger.
Trying to live up to my own expectations. 24th March 2017, I am not a morning person, so I woke up one hour before my college starts. Since, I had sessional at 2 pm but not prepared as always, I managed to get up at 8 am, did my morning business and sat down to … Continue reading Sessional and Burger.
The Basketball Player.
I made this short excerpt while I was roaming around my college campus during my first year. I seated myself below the blue afternoon sky, and my eyes rested on a group of boys playing a basket ball. Though, I never liked the game and nor I know it's rules and regulations but the way … Continue reading The Basketball Player.
The Way to Home.
“Chai! Chai!” The shrilling voice filled the compartment bringing me back from the trance, then it stopped as the owner of the voice stood infront me. “Bhaishab, chai?” He asked. He gave me his pleading look. I looked at his dark face, his blue faded collared shirt and his big khaki pants dangling on … Continue reading The Way to Home.
The Life of ‘Other Indian’ in India.
"Hey, Chinky?" "Oii, momos and thukpas!" "Chinese." "Nepali." These are the some of the few names that we are used to, you can hear them when we are either roaming the streets of Delhi, Chandigarh or Bangalore or any parts of India. By looking at all the above words, you might be thinking that why … Continue reading The Life of ‘Other Indian’ in India.
