The old table.

An evening to remember
A memory to cherish
A smile, a wink
All as if blurred in a blink.

Those jokes leaving an after taste
Those funny moments, and moments with zero weight
Explanations ridiculous all
Meaningless banter, claims- drunk and tall.

Coffee, sandwiches, chips and shots
Gossips, rumors, make believe plots
Fantasies ahoy! And plans many
Intentions shady, yet consequences seemingly sunny.

She was sitting with her group at their old table
The one in the nooky corner
Wood chipping, scribbling all over
Life years later, more settled not calmer.

Old friends sitting all over again
Reminiscing old times and people
Unlike those days, none had much to say
Counting their words, so they could, and not just may.

Life goes on, and so do cafès
A group today and tomorrow new again
What stays though, is timeless & strong



Mono-syllable conversation.

A ‘yes’, and then a ‘no’,
A smile, and a whiny nod.
A smirk, a hmph, a grin,
A misty situation, head in a spin.

She laughed, but kept mum,
They wondered why.
She agreed sometimes, but didn’t say so,
A smirk for a no, yes turns out, was that sudden glow.

She chanted something to herself,
Now and then in a funny tone.
But mostly kept to herself, smiling a little,
So what is it? Was she love smitten?

Her kohl laden eyes as if hid her emotions,
She as if wore a mask to hide.
But little did she know, that in a corner in that room,
There was a someone who actually understood her mono- syllable conversation, her situation, HER PLIGHT.



A century!!
A 100!!
A statistic!!
A milestone!!
A lifetime!!
And yet just a humble beginning!!
Woohoo 🙂

Today I celebrate 100 Posts on this blog by writing this 101st one!!

It’s really the support, the feedback and the interest that keeps me going 🙂

But most of all, what keeps me going is the reason of this blog- to express !! Coz expressing is all that matters, and expressing is what will forever run the world I believe…

Long live the boldest and the subtlest forms of expression!



An evening.

They loved theatre,
And went for many too.
The thrill, and yet the reality,
All spun together with glue.

They laughed at the humour,
And sometimes cried too.
They enjoyed it every bit,
The merry, the slow, and now and then as intensity grew.

For the drama wasn’t all that was lovely,
There always also followed a handsome discussion and tea.
Then strolling around a bit,
There were many a exchange of their own stories.

Though some evenings were planned,
The uncertain ones better chilled her spine.
For there was some unsaid sparkle around those,
Just like a scene from a drama, newer stories around an old bottle of WINE.


A last chance.

That moment of joy,
The fun that follows,
The mode of celebration,
Hardly a hint of sorrow.

An air of uncertainty,
Like a string full of knots,
Or maybe a song without notes,
A story with a weak plot.

A lurr, an oversight,
And yet a feeling of unknown fear,
Hearts beating, sometimes too loud,
Experiencing life, all while getting there.

That feeling of love, and being loved,
That feeling of care, and caring too much,
An attempt to attempt, and then attempting again,
A last, and then another last, and yet giving a ‘LAST CHANCE’ AGAIN.



She dared some dares,
Not just for the sake of it.
She spoke some truths,
Those probably only for the sake of it.

She had a voice,
And she intended to use it loud.
But not just in a moment of unthought hurry,
She wanted it to be a meaningful spur, not just a hollow growl.

She calculated all her moves to be right,
Still played along sometimes.
Her misses genuine, her targets sure,
She now needed a plan to get past the gaps and the frights.

Only one thing she could not beat-
That thing called ‘love’, that thing called ‘care’.
For even though it may seem otherwise and sometimes one may so make it seem,
It made her face it all around, in a colour greener than the GREENEST GREEN.


Just a dot..

Just like everything else,
She found more than simple meaning in this.
She was shown a new meaning in fact,
Sweet, simple, meaningful, intense.

When one day sitting down to write,
This little dot of infinity struck her.
Forced her to think of the finite,
The finite that interestingly represented might.

Everything she realized, ended with this dot,
Stories meant everything because of this little.
It represented certainty, conviction, surety,
Definitive, it is.

But is the dot enough in itself?
Sometimes it is, mostly it isn’t really.
For that dot alone in itself represents loneliness and void,
It means ‘ the end’ to some, and to others, the end of MANY A PLIGHT.


Didn’t see.

She didn’t see it coming
And yet it came along.
She didn’t see it happening
And yet it happened anyways.

It wasn’t like she did not work towards it
But somehow it always fell short.
Her effort, her perseverance
Always somehow seemed to naught.

Just an occasional yawn here and there
She did not otherwise slip.
All that stability and banter for nothing it seemed
Hardly once had she ever even tripped.

Anyway, she strided along
As life would have it and wanted her to.
Trying to be careful, diligent and watchful always
For it was only a matter of time, when her two and two’s would FIT WELL TOO.

– Stuti