Personal thoughts

The Moon Tattoo

Dressed in moonbeams and inadequate hopes of life She steps out Her smudged kohl, stolen from the darkest clouds, lines her eyes With the agony of the unfulfilled promises They had named her desire, as a child Of which she had none left, all she had in her were An inferno of broken glorious pieces […]

The Summer of Recalls…

Dust stained my finger tips As I ran them through My old school books Stacked, shoved at the back of my Parent’s garage Sweat beads adorned my forehead The heat unbearable, there in that dusty Dark room. Gripped by Nostalgia, I remembered The last summer, of freedom The summer of me. Hot, Blue, Dazzling sky, […]

Crossed and Knotted: A review

I first came to know about the Book through a friend of mine who is a regular. The first thing that caught my attention was the description ‘India’s first composite novel’. It was out of sheer curiosity I bought the book on kindle. I was hooked from the moment the first lines hit my […]

The Painter

Day 3: 3rd April 2015 NAPOWRIMO   The Painter   The lines of his forehead furrows deeper As his brush strikes the paper, like a sword, Making it bleed colours, making it surrender to his art. I quietly watch him from the window, Scared of disturbing the creation. Suddenly he rises and and leaves the […]


I drum my fingers impatiently on the table I have to leave I’ll wait for you to go out, I’ll wait for your absence I have a choice, I have to leave. You have taken a lot from me Hope, happiness, confidence, future Now it is my turn, to give you back Anger, agony, despair. […]

Raya, My Life, My Daughter

I woke up and saw your face, Glowing and happy while you are still dreaming. Your peaceful sleep, your even breath Gave me strength, to love. Your tiny hands wrapped around my finger Gave me power, to protect. Raya, my daughter, I could live forever for you Raya, my daughter, I could die for you […]

My Kolkata, The Man

My Kolkata is not ‘tilottoma’, a beautiful woman, no way sir. He is a man, definitely he is. More like a gruff middle aged, middle class man. From his narrow lanes to the broad streets, his high rises to his shanties, his drenching monsoons to his blistering summers, he is a ‘MAN’. Who is angry […]

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