“No man steps into the same river twice.. for, it is not the same river and it is not the same man.” Similarly, it is almost impossible to step into the memory and reconstruct the past.. ‘the quondam’ into a writing piece. To envision the future; even more. The conception of an event that could have been a subject of exploitation in the process of writing is so uniquely a function of just that ‘singular moment’ in which it occurred, that on revisiting – it hardly tells the same story… Continue reading →
“The fine line between the languid dreams and the lucid reality, that is where I saunter”
With the cheers and the vociferation in the ambience, the celebration begins.
The faces in the bunch speak volumes, the hard-core party mongers beaming like a child who has just been provided with his milk bottle, the sulkers with their constant throes reminding me of Peter Pettigrew and his ever so trembling hands. The NDA(non-drinker’s association)already gabbing among themselves, and among the horde, the others who don’t show their true visage until the liquid pours.(not rains, but pours). Continue reading →