[Updated: 21 Aug 2020] It has finally occurred to me to post links to my work published elsewhere on the Web. I hope to keep this as a live blog post, updating it as and when the time arrives. Hopefully, there will be more. 🙃 Kaleidoscopic: Four Poems (Vayavya) Four poems in the Monsoon Edition... Continue Reading →
At one point they were standing outside the house of an old man who ran the garage where they had sought help. The house was doused in the glow of a small yellow light. The man's wife was frail and yet she filled the house. Their son had just come home. This was a small... Continue Reading →
Know the superstition that your new year tends to follow the trend set by the first day of the year? I hope to God that that's untrue because the first day of my year was terrible. Honestly, so were the first two weeks. Moreover, so have been these 22 days. Now don't ask me to... Continue Reading →
After writing this new year post in which I summoned all those things I want from and wish for in 2016, I went back and did a lot of journal writing. It wasn't as if I was doing the soppy "he said, she said" in my checked notebook, but it was everything that I didn't... Continue Reading →
When Joseph Brodsky gave a commencement speech at the Dartmouth University, he outlined 6 essentials for living a wholesome life. While most commencement speeches stress on courage, action, kindness and even drive graduates towards using their failures well (see J. K. Rowling's The Fringe Benefits of Failure), Joseph Brodsky's first piece of advice is to... Continue Reading →
Because somethings need to be preserved in a space where I can easily find them. It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to... Continue Reading →
if ever there was a forever after, I seem to have missed the bus,
cross armed I stood as the happy train passed me by,
piles of riches and blinding shimmery gems they cast on us,
lured the comrades in, took hold of their guns and cracked open the sky…
Â
Sometimes, someone pens a whole story, in just 4 lines. One of those fragments... ON RUPERT BROOKE A young Apollo, golden-haired, Stands dreaming on the verge of strife, Magnificently unprepared For the long littleness of life. -Frances Darwin Cornford
amarllyis 