We mourn ‘voluntarily’

I would like to issue a disclaimer before you start reading this. Reading this might get you attacked, pelted with stones, your face blackened or just plain kept under house arrest. And no, you won’t be given a warning. Your attackers could be invisible, sometimes shine orange but most times appear out of nowhere, attack you and then disappear. Or maybe stay there and gloat.

So I am warning you. Read at your own risk.

To the madness of the night

Photo Credit: Rishi Baldawa

On the edge of the sea they stayed.

the two careless souls.

conversing with the stars, dancing with the bright planet.

On that,

Sun filled night with a transparent rainbow,

The missing lock...

There came days when she couldn't stand them. They stared at her sadly, as if they had heard her midnight screams. And sometimes when the sun barged in and disrupted her dreams, she woke up to their rude grins.

What’s in a surname?

It’s at the third box where the person collecting the form stops, looks up at me as if I were an alien, and barks: “Surname madam! Write surname!”

It’s always the same—always. Every application form is the same. It has three boxes—one for my name, one for my father’s name and the other for my surname.

The favourite book....

“You are my favourite book,” she had declared to him that morning. The evening before, he'd travelled all the way to another state just to see her. On a bike, riding for nine hours. It felt like a story to her, no not the fairy tales which were just gruesome tales wrapped in glittery paper.