An exposition of the Known and an exploration of the Unknown, in the form of poems, essays, borrowed words, fiction and photos
A voice I heard across the room for common Convivial cacophonous conversation: A deep boomy wave, rolling rumbling at Home in my inner monologues as though It had belonged to me all along. The vibrations of recognition so Subtle and mysterious that I had To lift my eyes from my text of intellect And turn right... Continue Reading →
The Garden City of Karnataka I will arise and go now, and go to Bangalore, And a small lodging build there, of mortar and brick made; A terrace of flowers, jasmine champa magnolia, I will peacefully tend all day. I shall calmly watch sun set, for watching makes me breathe slow, Breathing minty moments of... Continue Reading →
Thank you to everyone who has ever nominated me for anything. I appreciate it but this is going to be my last acceptance since it takes a LOT of time to make these posts. In case anyone ever feels like giving me another award please don't desist and I will accept it on an honorary basis.... Continue Reading →
Air travel doesn't scare me. I am rather used to it. But I always feel a little trepidation while take off and landing. After that I am as comfortable as a cat in a cradle. Mr. Pink is totally fearless. All he worries about when taking a flight is leg-room. Ah! The worries of tall... Continue Reading →
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens, Brown paper packages tied up with strings: These are a few of my favourite things. The Sound of Music is my all-time favourite musical. It's my childhood. It's my introduction to Europe. It's my love for western harmonics - until then... Continue Reading →
I was born on November 8 2014. I weighed two pages and 1 post. I was 1123 words long at birth and I was just a big crybaby - ranting and raving. Many people came to hear me though I had nothing more to offer. My birth certificate hadn’t yet been signed - I hadn’t a name.... Continue Reading →
I am addicted to the money sinkholes that are Toiletries. I love buying creams, shampoos, oils, masks and such. Do I need them? I swear to you I do. Mr. Pink, on the other hand, doesn't think so. He thinks I buy these myriad products because I am a victim of 'marketing' and have read... Continue Reading →
Two thousand fourteen I am grateful to you for Two thousand fifteen
Another Voice 