Imperfectly perfect-my journey to writing.

I gazed at the laptop screen for few mintues,then I though well how bad a confession can be,writing has always been a way for me to reveal in words that I wouldn’t rather reveal in speeches.That’s what writers do,we are such smart folks(literally laughing on myself.)Now you must be wondering how perfect made me unhappy.Perfect…

Writings of not writing.

Blue lights are waning on the rooftop My hands are wobbling and empty. My mind chaotic,tacit and burning, my pen falters to write a poem, For the moon,lovers and loss are hyped. The slovenly locks unfurled like the fantasy of a lover, Flowing to an imperceptible universe, She ponders between the lost and the living,…

Paradise found:North sikkim.

As I sit here to write about North Sikkim,my mind is transported to the lush green valley and the blue colored water of Teesta floating down the snow-covered mountains and the sun rays peeking from the mountain atop,and suddenly I was an Alice in a wonderland. But it took Alice seven hours to reach there.Phew!…

Terrace

A puff of smoke is distilled in the distinct dark night sky,Srinanda’s hair glistened with the moon,her brow twitched as her cellphone flashed with a number.She looked straight into nowhere from her Terrance,her mind twisted with the thought of Avilash. ‘It’s not possible for me to come this week,work pressure has been tremendous. Sorry baby,…

Sikkim:paradise unexplored.

“It is always the same with mountains. Once you have lived with them for any length of time, you belong to them. There is no escape.” ― Ruskin Bond, Rain in the Mountains: Notes from the Himalayas And the fellow writer don’t want any escape also.She has always been a mountain girl,right from her childhood days.It scarcely matters…

Tu me manques maa

Dear maa, Every time when I write you a letter, I am acutely aware that they never reach you, but some things in life we don’t wanna accept. Sometimes I do wonder where you have gone, sometimes I try to look into distant trees or the faraway houses, as far my eyes could reach, hoping…

On the last sunset

Blank. That might be the perfect word to commence this piece with. There’s a strange thing you sense in your stomach,whether it’s imperceptible yearning for something that is fading into memories into your hands,I am barely aware of that. On the threshold of the final year of graduation ceases, you realize that those things you…

Fearless-Indian women in literature

“Like other women writers of my class, I am expected to tame my talent to suit the comfort of my family.”  I came across the writings of ‘Madhaavikutty’ as She was fondly known in Malayalam during my under graduation,but the first line of ‘The Introduction’ cajoled me into comprehend this mysterious,fierce and a writer of…

The meeting.

A streak of warm light fell on Aditi’s facial curves, she detached the rubber-band from her hair and let it drop against the shafts. Sunday mornings bear with its arrival the sense of tranquility of not rushing which narrates her other days. She took her phone and dived into the abyss of the virtual world,…