Love with Prague

I had high expectations of Prague even before I went there. That was mostly because all my female friends who have been there recommended it vehemently to me. “Prague ki feel hi kuch alag hai!” was what I had heard. I didn’t realise that soon enough, but when I did, I knew just the word to qualify…

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Some wounds refuse to heal

The vast fields look over the stretch of mountains that mingle with the horizon like it's an everyday affair. The river cutting through the fields so seamlessly as if it's part of an artist's imagination. The sunlight falls on the porch, neither too hot, nor too soft, just right. The soothing wind just makes the…

Love in the Time of Dengue

Priya ambled lazily across the wall towards the window. She’d always peep outside, but I thought she’d never leave. I had made my peace with this intruder to some extent. The vicious attacks with bug spray and a broom that just made her circumnavigate the room had been replaced with a weary tolerance. The first…

Ne Me Quitte Pas?

Soft sunlight creeps in through the high window. I rise, diminished, to a thick mist Of stillborn dreams frothing in alkaline darkness. Crippled by an itch that won’t leave Me, stifled by the clutter of everyday objects and every day dreams Of You. I stare into the body length mirror in my room. A bleeding self-image…

Trust, Caution

Amit searched her clear blue eyes intently. He soon unearthed the old sparkle that gave him a dopamine rush like no other. He felt that warm, fuzzy feeling he had so missed. She lay on her back on the small cot, looking like some exotic bird, her silky black hair fanning out around her head.…

Black Hole Sun

People talking without speaking. People hearing without listening. Not exactly what Paul Simon had in mind, I pondered, as I watched them tap silently away at their phones. My gaze fell upon a pigeon as it skipped about on the glistening granite floor, putting to shame all norms of public safety and cleanliness. Look at…

Kashmir Chronicles -Part 2- Falling into it

While returning from Shalimar garden, we stopped near a woolens' shop where the Kashmiri Chacha had opened up his treasure trove of fluffy socks and sweaters in all hues possible. That was when our first conversation ensued. Imran was a talker, he had to be, considering the extra role of a tourist guide that all…

The border of love

Lance Naik Vikram Singh rubbed his right eye and smeared his handkerchief with the sweat dripping from his forehead. The nip in the air was long gone. He squinted again and looked through the binocular atop his rifle. It was nearly two hours since he assumed his duty on the watch post and he felt…