Monday, January 13, 2014. A vessel to the craft of inept. Breed me a change, bake me a chain. Flock with the illusion monger. Carnival of the hideous splits longer. An untamed notion sits quietly in the corner. Without a sow and grim reaper. Am I this archetype chained pretender. Eradicate whats left of this abyss. Swim into the circle of fire again. Each step is a blackhole on its own. Beyond the hopeless spoils and the fame. A steep climb to the endless realms. Of addiction to this hollowed scripture.

Musings on books and the joy of reading, personal essays, the odd movie review, travelogues, fiction and haiku. In The Mood For Love. Sunday, May 31, 2015. They sit on the ghat. Two quiet hearts learning to love each other. He takes her hand and leads her through the narrow lanes into a tiny, ramshackle restaurant. They laugh and squeeze themselves into the cramped chairs, thighs comfortably resting against each other.

Fir dekhiye kaise khamoshi mein panapti hai zindagi.