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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.
You’re uncomfortable in silences. In sighs. In whispers. In conversations. How do you feel about holding hands?
Visits: 0 The boy gleefully tells me that a Grand Theft Auto (GTA) mission that he just completed, is called ‘Blogger This…!‘. In the game, a blogger has raised the shackles of a nightclub owner because of his negative posts about the club, after being denied entry into it. So…
We treat infidelity differently depending upon the gender of the cheater. How can we hold a uniform idea of justice across genders then?
I found this piece I wrote dated 20 February 2002. I was doodling about inspiration in the back bench of a classroom.
Are you out of breath? There will be days like this one. Not warm enough to fight. Not bright enough to shield from.
What does feminist fashion mean and where does the colour pink fall in it?
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.