Summer Special
On the raw, chopped pieces of heartbreak,
Lay the sting of old memories with the tang of new experiences
A sprinkling of spicy promise
Lightly dusted with salt of good hope
And simmered in the heat of a new season.
Summer is here.
On the raw, chopped pieces of heartbreak,
Lay the sting of old memories with the tang of new experiences
A sprinkling of spicy promise
Lightly dusted with salt of good hope
And simmered in the heat of a new season.
Summer is here.
Winter’s here (for what it’s worth in Mumbai). And we enjoy the brief stint where we get to wear high necklines, layered garments and boots. The tricky thing about dressing for a December day in Mumbai is that you’ve to be prepared for stinging heat as well as infection-ridden chill….
E Vestigio dropped in a fortnight ago to keep me company, to gup a bit and to cheer me up. She brought with her two books, my belated birthday gifts. Book recommendations from E are always interesting, given her diverse reading habits. Her gifts were ‘The Interpretation Of Murder‘ by…
I feel like I’m a different person out in the world. I enjoy dressing up because I love the reactions of the world to my style. It’s not always positive. I also find ridicule, envy, shaming & other things. Each is a reaction, a conversation with society, with humanity in…
I would like this read after I die if there is anybody to listen. A life was changedMany things were brokenListsRulesExpectationsDreamsRelationshipsStatus quo Many languages spokenAnd learntAnd builtWith grammarsThat bore plurals for things that hadn’t beforeRealitiesLovesBodiesStates of being And in endingYet another rule brokenAnother grammar rebuiltWhen I sayLife is endingBut I…
A park separates them. If it can be called a park, that is. A grassy patch chequered with muddy patches, that turn into puddles in the monsoon. The dogs like it anyhow. They keep him awake at night with their barking. Nobody seems to care at 2 in the a.m….
“Does it get better?” she asks. She thinks because I’m older, I’ll also be wiser. Can I give her an honest answer?
And sometimes,
looking up into the Sun
some veiled sugar
bottling all the pieces in,
quietly seeping
thickly concentrating,
waiting for the Day,
when it can tell off
the hot tempered tadka types,
“I dont need you sputtering folks;
I am Chhunda….I last,
and I bring happiness
round the year …”
@suranga date: Wow! 😀 I really enjoyed it. It reminded me of the early days, when a few friends and I would have these poetry-in-comments conversations.
Ramya !!!
Thats adorable 🙂
How you been?
Guess what.. everytime I came back to your blog over the last 2 years, I have been thinking about sitting with you in barista for a coffee in the morning 🙂 Should do it again sometime?
Next time I am in Mumbai – will try 🙂
Cheers
@Vagabondess: Mailed you.