If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.” ― Anatole France
So often I consider winter the end point.
So often I forget that our path is not a straight line,
that we will meet again
at some point of the circle,
and look forward to this game of change. Continue reading “Ahead”
These days I brush my teeth twice,
once out of habit,
twice just to be sure. Continue reading “These days”
Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering. ― The History of Love
Motherhood is not always a happy ride. I say that and add, ” But I accept it with a big bear hug.”
I hug my daughter often, more often than my mother did. In my very Indian childhood of 90’s, love didn’t always come to me in words or in much hugs and kisses. Love came in a platter, in different shapes and pre-cut slices. Most frequently love came in large portion of Sunday chicken curry, a ritual I loved in the household. If I fared well in tests or in some life-altering phases, my mother would shower me with two chicken leg pieces with extra creamy curry. If I scored a hundred in maths test, she would rush to her temple to shower God with gratitude and sing a silent prayer for my future. Continue reading “Love has a sound”
The timeless in you is aware of life’s timelessness. And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream. ― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
The year is dying soon.
Continue reading “Goodbye, 2016”
Through the windshield now
a supermoon is staring at us,
escaping a handful of gray clouds
that are trying to blanket her in.
Cozy, she never wants to feel. Continue reading “So far”
While driving in a little sleepy town by the ocean, we found a small store that sold handmade crafts and cards. I found this little gem there and immediately fell in love. Continue reading “Wednesday Wisdom”
This might be a design,
how our paths cross
and how we can share
scars, and hopes. Continue reading “Not all those who wander are lost”
“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.” ― Anita Desai
You imagine a line,
on the sky,
and on the stream,
sometimes in motion,
from me to your universe. Continue reading “While I am away”
I don’t mourn perfectly. Grief acts like a shock to me, gives me chills, and puts my memory on a wide screen in a lonely theater. Lonely. Lonely, because most of the times, you’re the sole spectator of your own memory, unless you share the screenplay. Continue reading “The Journey”
I have a wiser self.
The one that acts as the soothing inner voice when I miss an exit on the longest highway. The one that asks me to check my heart on the mirror once in a while and fix the flaws, not hide them.
The one that tells me to live silently, work on things that matter in the mundane world. The one that suggests me to be a true friend to friends and to be present in each others’ lives, for years, not for a month or a year, not only on Facebook. Continue reading “Thanking the wiser self”