6:01 AM

Between the guards who are trying to salvage minute after minute of their night’s forbidden sleep

And the early risers looking to get some exercise in the form of brisk walks

And the daily bread earners failing to hide sleep in their eyes as they open shop

I am a different creature altogether,

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To write about writing…

I’ve been scribbling for a while now. Not leading to much substance.

But that doesn’t mean one should stop trying. You keep writing anyway till it all starts making sense. You write to improve, for there are better writers than there are worse.
You write to prove, it’s good to remind yourself what you’re capable of. You write because it feels good anyway, well, at least eventually. Continue reading

Losing mis-direction

​”Pacing back and forth in a fit of rage. Losing a day’s sleep within a flip of a page.”

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Read between the lines

When I wake up I think of you.
When I sleep I’m worried about thinking of you in the morning.
When I forget about you I’m reminded. When I remember, I wish I had forgotten. Continue reading

Image courtesy: BBC

Happy Republic Day. 5/365 #365HaikuChallenge

A ‘guest’ could do,
what so many casualties couldn’t
Happy Republic.

Nope. 4/365 #365HaikuChallenge

I blog on wordpress
when i don’t, i am restless
I suck at haikus.

Un-healthy Relationship. 3/365 #365HaikuChallenge

What I love to eat…  Continue reading

*Yawns* 2/365 #365HaikuChallenge

Sleep is now secondary.
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‘The Beginning’ 1/365 #365HaikuChallenge

Do I write haikus?
Or do they write them themselves?
The challenge begins…

‘X’ marks the spot

He woke up the next morning, alone & in pain. With a headache and a faint memory, he set out again.

To look for what would complete him. So what if he couldn’t remember what it was? Some success-stories are made so by their sheer incompetence.

He was positive he’d find it. So he set out to do the inevitable, as written in children’s tales, and to do the unbelievable, if only his memory prevails.

He went to the place he spend his childhood in, where he dismissed more than he reminisced.

Then to the spot where he often went with his teen-hood sweetheart, found so little he could redefine zilch. Continue reading