Wisp of memory, friendship and a mark sheet

A lifetime may not be sufficient to add zing to existence as we revisit old papers, certificates, and postcards spanning over more than a decade. The memories carved and wreathed in our soul makes it feel like a dream that never happened and burst like a colorful balloon the moment we are up in the morning. Friendships, silly pranks and silent wishes or wisp of happiness, fun, and bonding billowed like smoke disappearing in the sky and dust.

One often wonder where have all those years smacking of goodness or jelly moments disappeared in the flit of seconds. It feels so unreal when one harks back to the past that empowers and continue to define our present. Maybe our future, too. I just feel like blowing colorful balloons with tiny messages in paper chits and let them flow and soar higher in the sky. I never thought that after 11 years or more, I will laminate mark sheet, revisiting the first dash of Mumbai Monsoon in 2007.  It was in those days when I received the TYBA results and landed in Mumbai just after the train blast to speed up procedures for past grads. I just graduated in Pune. I remember calling friends to tell that I am fine and not to worry post the terror attack. It started raining in the morning when I woke up and crossed the road towards the Xerox shop that was opposite the hotel to get the fresh mark sheet laminated in Mumbai Central.

But, this time it was the best friend’s FYBA’s mark sheet that I laminated and sent to him by post two weeks back. It’s intriguing how his first year mark sheet staying with me for more than a decade. In the earlier posts, I told you that he got married in Mumbai but yours truly missed it. So, I decided to send him a wedding card. Yeah! I still prefer hand-made cards to this whole online wishes in the form of a card. I am old-fashioned that way for I doggedly believe that a proper card with ink poured over paper and writing a postal address brings so much warmth. The surprise gift was the mark sheet and last week, he whatsapped and so happy that he got the same. We tried to remember how his first year result stayed with me. There are two possibilities, one when he travelled with his ex and gave me some documents since I was the one who collected his results and secondly post our final, I had to get him some paper from college. But, I ain’t sure how the document conspired to land in my personal file. In the hum-drum, I hastily moved to Mumbai since our results came late and one year later, he hopped to the Kangaroo land, Australia.

The man was happy to get back his mark sheet which is intriguing to both of us since he told me that he always keeps handy first year Xerox.  It’s what you call friendship and the deep bond we shared that always binds us.  The past can do wonder to hearts and souls where a simple thing as a document can weave the strings of hearts strummed like the sound of music to touch us in places. Of course, I did make a Xerox as a reminder of those carefree days of friendship, leg pulling, smoking in the pot and alcohol flowing in the veins.

Time flits so easily that it knocks us in such a way that we don’t stop for a while to think about the moments that elapsed in front of us. I really wonder, where have all those days gone when we made the most of life and it was calling living, unlike now. We were not much into social media during that time and warm conversation plus laughter were shared over a cup of chai or coffee. Time is karmic. The worse with Karma is that it doesn’t give you the time to take a breath and hold the memories like pearls flowing inside the palm of your hands. Collecting memories can boost our mind. The dream of the impossible to thrust time backwards to relive those moments is the delusional thing that we humans may not be willing to do. Will time let itself not to flicker with speed? Often, I am plagued with such questions in skeltering with time.

The month of June was also Dad’s birthday where he would have turned 75 years old. It been 11 from now that he suddenly sunk into a coma before passing away. I was in Mumbai and had to rush home in no less than two days. Luckily, I saw him still alive on the hospital bed and one week later he breathed his last at home in front of me. The childhood moments that play in the mind and Dad’s voice whispering in the ear during my sleep is a sign of presence. I shall leave before this whole post becomes emotional and be back in a brand new post next week, speaking about Dad and the signs our loved ones send from heaven.



Blue Sky Tag Award on Sunday

It’s a lazy Sunday. The rain lashing out and splattering like fritters in oil. The wailing siren of wind chimes coming alive like the train whistle. The perfect day for sleeping, reading and having chai or coffee. Purrfect post never exists. I am doing after a long time. I don’t mean sex…ha! It’s blog award. I have stopped taking it but it calls for a breezy post on a Sunday and also Shayra who nominated me is awesomely sweet, talented and brims with so much energy. She has nominated me for Blue Sky Tag Award which is a first for me. I accept the Blue Sky Tag Award. Thanks, Shayra



  1. Thank the person who nominated you
  2. Answer their 11 questions
  3. Nominate (tag) 11 people
  4. Give them 11 questions to answer


  Questions asked by Shayra and my answers:

  1. What you like the most in my blog?

The cool and fresh language in which you speak to your readers. You have a unique appeal that reflects your individuality and persona. I love it.

  1. Your favorite hobby?

Reading and writing

  1. Your deepest desire?

Making it big in the Hindi film industry and romancing Deepika Padukone. May be lip locking with Deepika on-screen. You said, deepest desire.

  1. The incident which changed your life?

Being out of job for a long time. It helped me in having a focus, not whining about things and be patient. It taught me the importance of having perspective. But, the most important one was running away from Mumbai after 12 days where I ended up hating the place which I now love. One year later, I started my career in Pune at Fergusson College which I believe was a hell of an idea that changed my life.

  1. Any suggestion for my blog?

Hmm! Keep writing Shayra! You have an amazing blog but perhaps dabbling in short stories or voicing out about national issues. You belong to the generation that will shape India’s future.

  1. Reveal your shady, dark side?

I am a gamut of contradiction. One can never know how I can react being very moody, to say the least.

  1. Biggest fear?


  1. Your favorite past time?


  1. Anything you want to know about me?

Love life…ha! Your biggest secrets or crush stories?

  1. What you love most in your life?

Things are cool. My day starts with work, reading and meeting people. I love the human interactions and of course, writing on the blog or the Indian magazine where I am a regular contributor. It gives me a high.

  1. What’s your plan for the future?

Quite a few. First is to move back to India, publish a rom-com, make a short film and be in a relationship. It’s been quite sometimes that I haven’t behaved like crazy with a hot girlfriend.

My Questions:

  1. One idea that changed your life?
  2. If it was the last day of your life…
  3. Have you ever dumped someone?
  4. If you had to re-write Harry Potter, what would be the name of the book?
  5. If you were given a chance to be Prime Minister of India for a day, what would be your first priority?
  6. What writing means to you?
  7. Are you nursing a break-up?
  8. Will you say yes to a blind date?
  9. What does your blog means to your own self?
  10. Have you ever kissed under the first Monsoon spell?



I am not nominating anyone but feel free to tag yourself. Consider youself to be nominated. It’s so much fun.

Love and Happy Sunday



From Mahalaxmi to Worli: Magic hues of spirituality, breeze and Mumbai’s glitter

Indulgence coated in simplicity has a name when it lands at your doorstep. The sea change for your step and the soul as you unravel the hidden gem and mystery of your city and country with a tinge of Divinity cum spirituality. Who needs luxury in one of the most expensive cities on the globe? No prize for guessing, downtown Mumbai has more for the eyes and doesn’t cost you a well of fortune. From Mahalaxmi Station to Nehru Planetarium and Worli sea face, you can hatch a conspiracy of joy and exploration as you take a spin along the stretches of the Arabian Sea.

Worli is a hub not restricted to the canvas of speed where the dock of life never stops but offers a wide canvas perched in the center amidst the stunning views and jewels, the Bandra-Worli Sea Link, Haji Ali and Nehru Planetarium. Considered to be a separate island forming part of the Seven Islands of Bombay given as dowry by the Portuguese to England in 1661 for a unique union, Worli was successfully known was Warli, Worlee, and Varli.

The Worli sea face nestled in the center of the city and holding in its embrace the palatial sky rises, attracting hordes of admirers in SoBo as the fluttering breeze wind caress the cheek and smack the lip craving for a glass of chilled falooda at Haji Ali Juice Center. Worli is nothing less than a wonder that has everything in place to offer from the magnificent and inspiring at the same time, pulling you inside the city’s cradle.


  1. Mahalaxmi Station

Image credit: Google


One of the most frequented railway stations in suburban Mumbai on the Western lines, scything from Churchgate to Andheri and Borivali, Mahalaxmi Station stands tall in the middle. Between Churchgate and Mahalaxmi Station, it’s a ten minutes train journey as you hop out of one of the busiest station that attracts commuters in lakhs on a daily average.

The unique and friendly pathway covered in tin sheet as you wade inside and outside offers a sense of comfort and familiarity to commuters that lead towards the crowded road overlooking the Mahalaxmi Race Course and a one-minute walk to the bus stops towards Haji Ali or the Worli Sea face.


  1. Mahalaxmi Racecourse

Image source: Google/alamy.com

The Mahalaxmi Racecourse is rooted outside the station and standing in its midst gives an angular view of the city as it is chaperoned by tall towers, the sea, and the highway. The race course is glitz and glitter affair in the city which is one of the biggest attractions frequented by the who’s who’s of glamor.

Sprawled over 225 acres of land and stretched over 2,400 meters of race, the Oval shaped land overlooks the sea and borrows its architectural finesse and state-of-the-art from the Melbourne Race Course. Built in 1883 on a land donated by Sir Cusrow N Wadia, the structure was supervised by Major JE Hughes and is home to five Indian classics where the main attractions are 1000 Guineas, 2000 Guineas, Oaks, Derby, St Leger and Poonawalla Multimillion million, among others. Racing takes place between November and April.

Moreover, the spectacular Grandstand is ranked as a heritage structure that has under its roof, Club House and famous Gallops Restaurant for its patrons and guest. Glitz, power and its hall of fame witnessed not just the biggest Indian names in sport, politics, and cinema but also world personalities such as the Queen of England.

Standing tall in this iconic South Mumbai heritage is the Royal Western India Turf Club Limited (RWITC) considered to be the most ancient and vintage horse racing clubs in India. Tit-bits tell us that it was an exclusive club since its inception and boasted a staggering number of 7,566 members in June 2010.


  1. Worli Sea Face

Image source: Google/https://c1.staticflickr.com


The quaint, mesmerizing and picturesque view of Worli Sea Face where the blue azure water adds splash to delight lovers and admirers and evenings witnessing in drove the lusty congregation to gaze in delight the sun taking a dip in the pearl of the ocean. The water rising during every monsoon and wave lash coiling its might and unfurling its fury like serpents is a magnificent sight offered by the Arabian Sea that stretches and spreading its might. A moment to be captured as the salty water sprinkles and smothers on the face. Of course, SoBo is the queen courted by the sea of lovers. From the stunning view of Haji Ali at a distance and the architectural marvel, the Bandra-Worli Sea Face, you cannot just keep your eyes from the tale of love and obsession.

Tootling on the cobblestone promenade at Worli, the sight of the bounty waves crashing and surrounded by lovers snuggling, expensive houses strike the mind in offering a quintessential slice of SoBo. It offers comfort and brings alive a flurry of relaxed air by sitting on the bench and watching the sun bow out and tinting the sky with the dimming shade.

The evening walk offers a plethora of emotions that strikes your aesthetic senses that you cannot afford to miss in this part of SoBo. Waltz your way to a date that doesn’t cost much but makes for priceless moments, hither and yon at the promenade.

Of course, it’s a stunning view as you sit in Mumbai’s iconic yellow-and-blacks cab sashaying past the promenade and the breeze smearing your breath. It’s love at first sight.

  1. Nehru Planetarium


Image credit: Google

It was way back in 2006 that I visited the Nehru Planetarium at Worli and was dazzled by the serenity flowing in the surrounding. It’s hard to fathom that this place of immense beauty is anchored in the heart of the city that airs a complete view of SoBo. Surrounding by greenery and the splaying of palm trees that not only offers a scenic view but gentle air and breeze usher to make it a splendid affair.

There are 1000 various plants and trees sprouting in the spick-and-span garden to make it a grand and lovely affair to take a walk and to feel every single moment that runs deep down on one’s senses.  Spending one afternoon at the Nehru Planetarium soothes the soul and rejuvenate the mind. The state of the art architecture, cylindrical shaped building and the aesthetical dome is reminiscent of a tale concocted in heaven.

The Nehru Planetarium boasts of an art gallery, marble paneled auditorium replete with acoustic sensation, a wealth of diversity and knowledge in the library as well as exhibitions that make us discover the great Indian culture and heritage. As one is led to the vicarious discovery of astronomy, space science and the entire gamut of planets and gliding through the planetarium, equipped with Digistar 3, the planetarium projector transports us in a ubiquitous world, far removed from the earth. There is a certain sensation that draws one in this gibbous universe. It’s enthralling and mysterious, at the same time.

From the entire gamut of cubicles to be enthralled by the wonder of the solar system to the ‘Discovery of India’ science exhibition tracing the artistic and academic journey of India and the motley of activities such as science quiz contest, astro poetry and science elocution, tramcar, railway engine and supersonic jet demonstration the place is truly a one-stop-shop that has something for everyone.

  1. Haji Ali Darga

Image credit: Google/ http://twocircles.net

One of my favorite spots in Worli that gives the glimmer feeling of divinity and evoking spirituality is the Haji Ali Darga, the abode of the Iranian saint Pir Haji Ali Shah Bukhari. Constructed in 1431 to honor the saint, the tomb is covered with brocaded red and green chadar enmeshed in silver and coated with a pattern of colors, green, blue and yellow chip of glasses which emblazons tiny mirrors like a dotted pattern.  The colorful myriad beautifully represents the saint’s spiritual magnificence and the divine form the Indo-Islamic architecture.

Sprawled over an area of 5,000 square meters where the 85-foot minaret is rooted, the Haji Ali Dargah houses a Masjid, Sanatorium, and Dargah that showcases the vibrant Mughal architecture. The large main gate is coated in pure white marble and at the entrance visitors, seekers and devotees thronging in numbers can get everything under one roof, from Chaddar to flowers, incense sticks and caps or tabeez (holy thread) from hawkers as couple of street urchins and beggars could be seen hollering near the entrance. The human clutter and chaos surrounding this heavenly and pristine beautiful place rekindle hope in everyone seeking the Baba’s blessing.

The pathway is less than one kilometer where it is flanked by sea on both sides and witnessing life flowing in peace and removed from the hustle bustle of the city. I would regularly visit in quest of peace and walk at the pathway wherein the monsoon you would schlep your way is a spiritual undertaking. Sitting in peace and watching everyone seeking the blessing of Baba where everyone, irrespective of their religious faith is seen tying the sacred thread on the huge plinth and pillar structure or women praying from outside. It’s only recently that women are allowed inside the sanatorium which is good news.

I remember visiting during the Monsoon where I was completely drenched and sat outside the mausoleum facing the sea water and feeling the cool breeze. It brought so much peace and inner confidence. One of my favorites was the canteen where I would gorge on piping hot samosa and child that warms the stomach.

On the main road, the Haji Ali Juice Center offers exquisite taste of fruit cocktails from New Zealand Kiwi Juice, Watermelon or Pineapple, and chilled milkshakes. After a trip to the shrine and offering prayers at the dargah, you deserve a treat at the juice center. Of course, the Falooda is top class always.


Sources: Mahalaxmi Race Course (www.rwitc.com)






Book Review: The House that BJ Built is trance to the mind

Book Review: The House that BJ Built

Author: AnujaChauhan

Publisher: Westland Ltd

Rating: Five stars

The House That BJ Built by [Chauhan, Anuja]

‘I’ll make my sisters squirm like well salted earthworms.

I won’t sell. Even my jutti won’t sell. And if I die na, then even my gosht won’t sell!’


A dint of imagination, soaking readers in a trance at the posh Hailey Road in Delhi and making one swirl to the cocktail of romance, wacky characters, and pricey women, spate of lies and lusty encounter. A family feud in full throttle and the crazy Bonu who explodes at the drop of a hat gives a high that it’s almost impossible to recover from it. Anuja Chauhan’s writing hooks from start to end where she takes her readers in a flawless journey that win hearts to make it an eternal romance tale that flows like alcohol in the vein. The book is an addiction and the cherry on cake is that she takes, ‘The House that BJ Built’ where she left, ‘Those Pricey Thakur Girls’ to make it a cheek-by-jowl narration.  Certainly, Anuja Chauhan is the Queen of romance that tickles the funny bones and the non-veg jokes are lent so much dignity and once you flip the last page, it takes days to recover from it.


The late Binodini Thakur had been very clear that she would never agree to sell her hissa in her Bauji’s big old house on Hailey Road. And her daughter Bonu is determined to honor her mother’s wishes. late Binodini Thakur had been very clear that she would never agree to sell her hissa in her Bauji’s big old house on Hailey Road. And her daughter Bonu is determined to honor her mother’s wishes.


‘Tharki Thakur…obvio…this abstinence shit you’re pulling out is fuckin’ unhealthy…Two months of no action…All your juice is gonna back up inside your body…clog your bloodstream and give you gigantic pimples. You could even burst like, one gigantic pimple’

Rolling your stomach and churning in pain for you know there is no GST on laughing. It’s Anuja Chauhan for you. Sensual writing, tickling, sharp and divvy characters that capture the hearts to make it an epic and joyful ride as you enter the world of shtick, sympathetic and jaunty faces that comes alive with force. Anuja Chauhan whips a storm of relentless laugh and her observation of quirky characters teasing the readers endlessly and giving their imagination wings to fly.

The characters,  from the Thakur sisters whom you love to hate to the endearing Trings are as sweet as the mouth-watering Gulab Jamun. Of course, Bonu aka Bonita Singh is explosive as one depicts her twisted mind, cham cham and on your face ‘I don’t give a shit’ meeting Samar Vir Singh. There is hate, love, friendship and, of course, Samar’s buddy Zeeshan bloviating at length on his ‘glorious’ vocabulary of cusswords. The romance between Samar and Bonu takes it to another level, serving sauce a la Debo and Dylan in the earlier outing, living up to the adage, the more the merrier. Of course, Steesh is back as the suave businessman and rekindling romance with Eeshwari in the ‘losing control’ moment that sets the adrenaline spurting on a high. There is nothing that beats the Pricey Thakur Girls, right from Anjini to Debo and Eeshwari with Chandu. The debilitating Chachi-ji serves the cracker pot right and her stories make the tickling sensation run amok from top to toe. There is evil of course with AN Thakur who is in contrast to Judge Narayan Thakur’s character.

Anuja Chauhan’s makes a strong and subdued statement at the same time on citizens we consider as second class…the Tring Brothers and the peek into the film and fashion industry which is effortlessly fun. Case in point is the epic conversation between Bonu Singh and Susan.

Hardly any brownie point, except if you want to count the forgettable Mustaq Khan which is more a blink-and-eye character that doesn’t really fit in the novel.

Final Words:

If there is anyone in India who can claim the mantle of rom-com writing, there is no dispute about it. It’s Anuja Chauhan. She takes The House That BJ Built to another level right from the spicy humor to the lovable characters and, of course, aur jee item song or Tharki Thakur. The one-liners are weaved in an intelligent fashion.  The spunky writing simply grows on you that you will abandon everything on earth to flung yourself in this universe. Time to move over Chetan Bhagat for Anuja Chauhan sashays like a storm. Sad, that I stayed away from her books all this while but gonna lap everything that comes from her, Battle of Bittora or Baaz. Dirty words can be sexy, glamorous and spicy! You cannot love romance and shamelessly confide not reading Anuja Chauhan’s Pricey Thakur Girls and BJ’s House.

Postscript: It’s a non-commissioned review and grab your copy at Amazon and follow the author’s FB page.




Left Right Romance Chowk: Chapter 2

Left Right Romance Chowk

Chapter 2: Naughty sprinkle of love, sweetness and pepper

The shiny red double-decker bus ambled slowly in the center of South Mumbai, looking like a lost child competing with the mighty and iconic, black-and-yellow cabs, powerful cars and commoners scrumming their way to jostle for space. The commoner bikers were in a frantic hurry as they screeched their way between buses and cars, right in front of St Xavier’s college where young boys and girls, dressed in modern and branded outfits stood outside the gate chatting, puffing a smoke and indulging in public display OF affection, caressing hair, holding their special someone by the waist and lips pecking to the tune of bees and flowers.

The Best bus swiveled at the traffic signal and halted right in front of Mumbai’s hip-and-happening and most glamorous college in the city. Sejal hopped down and carefully held her dupatta to prevent it from flowing into the pool of water. She sashayed past the college gate to disappear in the flitting seconds.

As she waded her way inside the sprawling campus, the boys upped their eyes to survey every single move that she made and shamelessly peered at her curvy body, perfectly sculpted round boob and bum. She feigned ignorance but was flattered at the same time. Some dudes whispered, “She’s the machine of hotness that whirs above our head and stops our hearts from doing dhak dhak. I’d prefer this machine to the coffee dispenser.”

She was unfazed by the eyes longing for a ‘hi’ and returned their smile with a large wry expression on her face. “Despo! They badly need a masturbation,” she told her herself. Sejal made furtive glances and finally zeroed on what she was looking for.  The flawless hand was raised in fury as if she was going to sling at something. A strong jab was felt. A resounding bang and thud! She couldn’t conceal her smile.

He leaped to his feet and bellowed, turning his face towards the person who was standing right in front of him. “Kya re, hero,” she chuffed.

Mann was still moaning in pain and almost cursed her. She tittered, “Madarchod bolne ka mann ho raha hai (You feel like saying maderchod). Fulfill your vow, Mr Ashiq.”

“No, yaar. It’s your new way of greeting kya,” Mann hollered.

She hugged him tight and whispered, “Sorry.” He smiled. “I am not apologizing for now but the last time when you were told to fuck off from my house,” she placated him.

“The ganja was making me spin in the air and at the same moment, Mom had to shoot this message that she was landing in front of my door in five fucking minutes. Did I have a choice, baby?” She made dewy eyes expression. It melted his heart.

“You should never do that. You are a kid and just 18. I am elder than you,” he purred.

“Stop giving me this lovey-dovey expression and it’s making you sound feminine. Yes! You are elder to me by two months. A half baby cannot take form in the embryo in such a short time span…,” she casually remarked.

“At least you will not throw me out of your house. See! I can claim my age over you so that you fulfill all my wishes and desires,” he persisted.

“In that way, some 5 cm penis may just claim sheer horsepower to ride me but it doesn’t come with warranty or else viagra will go out of the market.” A triumphant and tart expression popped on her face. Mann went into a silent mode, not knowing what to make of it.

“I bet you will not have sex for a long time now. See how my words can hit the cock with force. At your own risk,” she chuckled gleefully. They walk together towards the class but made a u-turn. Their eyes nodded in agreement and scampered their way out of the campus.

The tea was boiling and steam curled from the huge tea pan and the plump man with his protruded belly expertly steered sugar, milk, water, and cardamom to heavenly bliss.  The steam blew on the face of the man who wiped the sweat with his hand while the horde of men and women made a beeline with impatience for the morning tea.

Sejal grabbed a cup poured in the glass that touched the cusp of her lip. She loved the sensation when the steamy hot cup strokes her lip. She glugged her tea and order Mann in a sudden fit, “Now! Jaldi! Let’s run away from here. Just leave the glass. It’s not like it’s your last chai on the death bed.” She grabbed his hand and yanked the door of the taxi open, telling the driver, “Churchgate station, chalo.”

As the car steered to life, a tall and fair man in his 30s was staring at Sejal which didn’t escape Mann’s glare. She realized that he got wind of things. “You see, this guy is my ex-boyfriend and I saw him from a distance. This idiot couldn’t digest that I broke up with and been after me. Issliye! We are fleeing to a safe destination,” she said.

“Is he a stalker?” Mann’s face turned red.

“No! Man! He was looking for something more…some kind of commitment and marriage. Ek toh, I am ten years younger to him and it was just plain sex…I thought ki rumpy aur pumpy and we will bang and bingo…but no. Now, he’s after me.”

A tremor like sensation jolted Mann’s body and he tried to put a fake smile on his face. “Jealous,” she quipped. “Arre chill! See how scared you are?” Sejal cackled.

“Arre! Pyare! I cannot have sex with my sperm related sibling. He is my half blood brother that sprouted from Dad’s second marriage. I ran away from him because this old fox would dole out gyan lesson to me afterward.”

He exuded relief. “Who old fox?” he queried. “This brother of yours?”

“Nah! My Dad. His morale is like an ejaculation that fizzles before shaking the bottle…a bit like thumps up but doesn’t make any sense at all.”



A city’s tale & stirred emotions

Wavering steps below the sky rises, tired legs strutting its way in the midst of the crowd swarming to its destined journey as one chime at the strongly flavored curry flowing to hit the nose. The hungry laden stomach and mouth swirling in the imaginary bliss of alcohol are reminiscent of the last drop.

The sinuous roads and inhabitants sprout their roots under the Gulmohar and Banyan trees that give a shade in the sweltering heat to tiring legs and sweaty bodies on the pavement. Whispers gravitate under the shade and gentle breeze travel places to smother the cheek and parched lips. Thirst is quenched and wreathed circle of smokey memories linger to the taste of the mind. There are cities and it’s this city standing tall to capture our emotions and happiness in a balloon skittering closer towards the sky.

Unfed mouths, lanky and battered man sidling in tiny step as if the earth would bore fissure, stuffing cigarette boxes in his tiny but torn pockets with the rough and scratchy hands peddling steamy tea in the stainless steel jug to earn a dime to feed the stomachs. The thatched parchment, standing on edge of the raucous sea waves, snuggled together and jostling for space, doddering at the fissures where human emotions are washed by the mighty sea.

The sunset spurning its magic, coalescing with the suddenly tranquil waves, fading sky and the calming ardor in the night as furtive eyes of visitors swirl to weave stories in the flickering seconds. Haggling with hawkers, squabbles in the middle of the road, tea glugged in a hurry to catch the last local or feeding the pigeons. Lovers’ nest in the open where space is a luxury hard to find to satiate human desire and wrath incurred is met with invisible eyes. There is pretense with hunky dory love, making out as the storm of shower smear the face. Relationships are traded in the city at every single moment and it hangs on a thin thread. Stories are weaved. Break ups are routine. The cosseted world where chaos reign supreme and speed is routine. Life bears no certainty.

Variegated emotions of desire, defeat and seeking joy in crumpled space where sins are committed behind closed doors and everyone wears a veil in the hustle bustle of city life. Being busy is a privilege where lives are crumpled.

Days and nights flicker in a matter of seconds. Stench of tobacco, cheap liquor and immorality find legitimacy. Nobody gives a damn. Aspirations become hope for a better tomorrow offers a brightly lit sunshine. Till there is life, breaths are exuded! It becomes a hazy affair to believe in the ludicrousness scheme and unattainable goals. Destiny is a bitch and devil shriveling us into tiny particles to be reduced to naught.

The pigeons fly to their destination in quest of grain, flutter past the seas and skyscrapers where every flesh counts as long as their hearts beat. It’s the gospel truth. Keep moving. Tomorrow shall be another day that will gather steam.



Enticing flavor, Goddess of passion

Duvet’s comfort,

gaping at the quill,

in the quest for freedom

sidling on the pathway,

under the shade of the jamoon tree,

fresh stroke of air,

soggy sensation

thumping heart beat,

strutting birds in pecking order,

wisp of smoke curled,

spun with the sea breeze

An amorous sensation,

gentle drizzle plopped inside the steamy tea

Perfume of tender flower,

whirring at the nostril’s edge


rapture of senses,

Scent of the unknown,

enticing flavor,

intriguing steps,

flitting like light

she can’t be love!

Greek Goddess of passion?!