Wearing a wide smile, I ring the doorbell. Your doorbell. You open the door. You see me and smile back, maintaining the balance. I see the glare in your eyes which tempts me yet tells me to do my job. So, I do. I deliver your letter. Also, I tip myself with a longer standstill … Continue reading The Designated Doorbell
Souls, almost.
I sit and play the cello. Your cello. Like you did, or maybe almost in the rocking chair, which is covered in white leather And peace. I play the melody A sad tune, this time. Or maybe like always. I light a cigarette, then fill my glass with the old monk Like the classics. And … Continue reading Souls, almost.
All Black
"It's all black." I whispered to myself. It was 3 in the night and I was the only company for myself to enjoy, or not. So I did not. Before settling with this lonely miserable scenario, I referred to my contact list with a pale hope of finding a number to dial, or maybe text. … Continue reading All Black
Remembering Kishore Kumar
Dear Kishore Da, 89 years ago, on this gorgeous day, you came into this world with a voice that was destined to be heard. But back then, I wasn't there. Neither was I there when you left us. But despite your physical absence, we had met. And it was an incredible story. Well, you might … Continue reading Remembering Kishore Kumar
Not In Love
I would have begun by saying how beautiful you were and how sassy you seemed to me the first time we met, but let's kill the clichés, shall we? The artistry of the randomness when two strangers meet is both unconventional and inevitable. And in both aspects, you were a firestone who had expelled me … Continue reading Not In Love