Stories for Memories; Trading Stories for Memories!

At age 40, you don’t expect someone like me to pick up an Enid Blyton. Surely, I am too old for that?!? But as much as books mean stories, they also mean memories. Memories: lively, painful, colourful, haunting, and bittersweet. Memories that open up doors to a time you feel you’ve left far behind, but is actually just one thought away.

I have memories of being introduced to my first ever library – the collection of books my aunt and my cousins had in their house. Stacked one on top of the other, the books were placed pell-mell in that disorganised, yet loving manner that most book lovers (and hoarders) are so familiar with. Read More

The Mask We Wear

Dear Friend,

I took off my mask and laid it aside,
And you didn’t cringe at what you saw.
You didn’t taunt,
You didn’t chide,
You didn’t shudder,
Or turn away from me. Read More

Flowers By The Moon Light

Take back these flowers
That we gathered in the moonlight,
As we sat by the river from dusk to dawn,
Speaking to each other until the stars lost their twinkle
And the sun woke up yawning and bleary-eyed. Read More

Women’s Day, Shwomen’s Day

Women’s Day …

International Women’s Day …

The day of celebrating womanhood …

… primarily by sharing stock photos stolen from Google and shared on various social media forums with a message of ‘solidarity’ and a salute to all the strong and powerful women they may have known in life.

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My Slice of the Apple Pie

The first hour or so after I have woken up are precious to me …. really, really precious!

I prefer no one speaks to me, I prefer not to talk myself, and the only thing I do is cradle a cup of coffee in my hands, sit in my balcony and just stare away.

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