The Missing Butterfly: The world was contemplating , A senile caterpillar kipping an entire season. Daylights turned into- Jaded hours of darknesses , And jake frost was ending for its own reason. They anticipated to see it’s forewings , With portrayals of snow and summer. Even so , Fanny Adams were coming out , Neither…
Category: being beautiful
One Last Rain!
The house is heavy with grief. Twisting an escaping strand of my curled hair in my finger, I bite my lower lip to stop myself from getting emotional. Outside, as I hear thunder, a sudden smile of secrecy escapes my pursed lips. Abandoning my family in time of their need, I take one step back, listening to…
Aruna Shanbaug: A Lost Legacy!
If she could be able to speak for once, this could be her words: I came to Mumbai, the city of dreams, 42 years ago to endeavor my life and achieve my dreams but little did I know was soon, very soon, I will become the national sensation, A rape victim. Believe me, this was…
Perfection!
Eggs, bacon, bagels and croissants; her favourite meal of the day sat right in front of her alluring her to have more, some more, a bigger portion…probably just this one day. Her hand reached out for the last croissant; “STOP” said her mind! “PLEASE” begged the nineteen year old heart. She could feel the tires…
Grace
As a child, my goals were elaborate and a bit lofty. Adulthood, my 10-year-old self speculated, would be spent living in an actual tree and creating terrific pieces of art that people would flock to buy. And, I told myself, when I achieved these goals, I would forever feel accomplished and happy. I was silly!…
A Fairy and The Blue Butterfly
7th July, 2008: A Beautiful evening of my life — One boy, One Gulmohar tree and a Blue Butterfly! Inspired by a true happening of my life and the plot was initially developed by a friend, ‘Fortune_Cookie’ and further modified by ‘Travel_story_of_a_girl’. The Boy Says: “On a Friday afternoon, I have returned from college early. There was a…
Editorial: Just a Different Writer!
If there’s one thing an author might fear losing, it’s her eyesight. How can a writer continue to work having lost the faculty to see the sliding of the pen or the movement of letters across the screen? Reading, too, becomes a struggle, forcing the author to depend on books being read aloud or to…
I Knew You Were ‘Trouble’, When You Walked In…
“Many, many happy returns of the day Mum!”, Shilene squeaked in delight. “Yes, from me too!“, Shane echoed his sister. “Look Mum, this one is specially for you”. Shilene pointed to the three-layered chocolate cake that she was delicately holding in her hands. It was a rich, dark chocolate cake. A pink candle, placed atop…
A Letter For A Fairy
My Loveliest, Prettiest, dearest Fairy You’re here! You finally made it. Few pounds weight, tiny little fingers, beautiful eyes and an innocent soul. Welcome to our crazy, dysfunctional and loving world. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but we’re a bunch of weirdos. But hey, you would never be bored. Even…
Many Men’s Murphy
‘Rebecca’ He was carrying a pleasant smile. Thirty two to thirty five years old, bald, thin, not taller than 5’6″. He would turn out to be one of those occasional faces that appear before her, not more than twice in a year. She reads men so well, even at one glance. He entered into the room…
The Nineteenth Autumn
I was 9, when I had planted her, as a sapling… Few months after Mum passed away, Dad and I shifted to Akhnoor(A Small city of Jammu). The place is believed to be the ancient city of Virat Nagar mentioned in the Mahabharat. The city was calm yet beautiful. Dad believed that shifting to a different place…
Wrinkle’s Diary
It was pouring cats and dogs – in a December evening! As if the chill in Delhi wasn’t enough, the rain God might have decided to make it more soggy. I couldn’t see through glasses clearly as they were covered in few drops of rain. My shoes were making sound of a squelching bellicosely every time…
Departure
My car started rushing down the city because all the thing I wanted to do at the moment is to catch a glimpse of the city lights. There is nothing prettier than the city at 11 pm, with its silent streets of Budapest whispering the glory of Europe and the cold winds singing lullabies. Even the…
UnSexy
“..Miss! you sell only bikinis?” a childlike light complexioned girl asked me. Her cheeks were salmon pink and eyes were full of confidence of being gifted with curves of perfection and a mesmerising innocent smile on her face. I grinned back warmly at her and nodded my head. The girl seemed cheerful looking at the contents…
