I loved a girl.She wore sunlight on her hair,wove peace lilies on her dress,promises in her pocket,of love, hope and endless summers.She sang too longand hoped too much.Now she loves the moon.My flower childMy fabulist.
I was a teacher by profession and leader to a team for 21 years. Now on a sabbatical, exploring and polishing my vestigial skills in writing and Photography.
With my nose pressed against the frosted glass of the window,I see the Goddessin her shrinehear chants of worship in some obsolete language. With a cold tap on my shouldershe invites me in.Then I see herskin chipped,black eyed, nose squashedmutilated,corroded andrained on.
Women become xanthippes. Why? Imagine this. I asked him, ” Did you get the milk and bread?”He said ” Understanding the question is half the answer” I said, “I will then serve philosophy as breakfast”He called me ‘xanthippe’That’s how the fight started. I say, behind every Xanthippe, there […]
Twenty Word Tuesday by Bulbul Hope If you choose to forgive me, do it somehow, without conditions. Don’t give hope todayand take it away tomorrow. Leena
Yesterday was World Poetry Day. I woke up to a tag on Twitter by a generous soul, who added me as one of his favourite poets. Though I don’t post what he called as poems, on WordPress, I do engage in plenty of short write prompts on Twitter. […]
Every tomorrow will come as today Ashok Wahi If I hadn’t known Ashok Wahi, from WordPress, I would have missed reading ‘ 4 Pillars of Abundant Life’, at least for a long time, till I would happen to come across a review written by someone somewhere. The reason […]
Lovewas trapped betweenthe kerfs of what we saidand we meant.Out of reachyet visible. We triedto retrieve,nevertheless,what were kerfsbecoming abysses. Then,we let love go and sighed‘Now for usit is forever autumn’
Cee’s Black and White Challenge Anything in Flight I got a few in flight clicks of the painted stork, that visits us during spring. It was a clear sky with no clouds in sight. Cormorants in formation I included the weaver bird, as it is not perched but […]
Twenty Word Tuesday by Bulbul Week 29- Bride All they could see was her bridal finery, not the armour of faith that she had accoutered her soul with. Leena
The sun took one last look, as the gloaming slowly creeped in, painting everything in dark, before it turned the palette over to the night.