Elysian Fields by Carlos Schwabe Image downloaded from Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository is that where you are no...
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It's been too long, she says. My muse, she waits...
Blogging has been a wonderful refuge for my soul over the past 13 years* ; it's a place I've come to sometimes frequently, some...
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Yesterday while I was taking a shower, my mind was suddenly flooded with recollections of all the times I've been asked for "writin...
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You look so good in all shades of blue until one rainy morning I witness white cotton sitting gently on your shoulders bringing out the glo...
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Last night, while chatting with Marmalade, I typed - "I thought I knew all there is to know about love until I met him." She f... -
You would always be a force to reckon with I remember the day I decided to put you away for good. The day I wiped you clean w... -
It happens to everyone. No matter how different you think you are or hope to be, there comes a point when your mouth automatically s...
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At the threshold of being and becoming As I sit at my worn-out old desk and write, the coffee dregs at the bottom of my chipped ... -
is when you make a decent chocolate cake for the person you love the most in the world and everyone eats it and loves it and then you decide...
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Ask any self-respecting Goan, worth his or her weight in coconut, what would they like as their last meal and this is the answer you will ...
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And in the end, we will count all the things we didn't do. While other lovers piece together moments to map their memories, we will fli...
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She is fire. She sparks and rages, spits and smokes, radiates a heat that could burn him to cinders. Oh, but he is water. He g...
