Reminiscence- A collection of haibuns — Why do we write? Is it to satiate our soul, to express the inexpressible, or to present some stories that we know can resonate with if not all, but definitely a few of the readers. I remember vaguely, the day when holding my dad’s fingers, I visited this local bookstore…

The Painter’s Story — A brush dipped in multicoloured paint, dripping in thick streaks as it navigates the canvas, those delicate gestures slowly thinning as it progresses downwards, truncated and hazing, like fine-ageing, how beautifully the thoughts of a painter transcend and transform, into imaginative events, caressed in poetic beauty. That glowing red sprinkled…

Exciting Stuff In Store — Did all of you, miss us? I bet you did. Did we miss you? Yes, yes, and yes. You know, life’s strange. We build something from scratch, with all the passion, time, and energy, thinking it’ll grow into what we envisioned it to be. Then, it does, slowly but steadily…

What Do You Seek — Memories, of me, of you, splattered with a tinge of raindrops, punctuated by everlasting haziness, running helter-skelter across the dreamy mindscape, reminiscence, monsoon rain-laden winds caressing the quench of a seared soul, the amalgamated conscience of a forgotten string of emotions, juxtaposing together, sewing, sewed together, meandering aimlessly, slowly towards the sun-kissed horizon, what do…

All That It Conveys — The fragility of things beautiful, the cosmic tapestry of colours, that you see on a wildflower, they wither, they wither, they rise again, the cycle goes on and on. A lonely bird calls to its friend, who went away, a long time back, hoping, wishing, the kind mountain valleys, the winds, they…

Where Shall I Go? — I am a lost thought. A spec of that fleeting moment, when I popped, suddenly, into your mind, sending all of your cells into a frenzy, while your conscious self contemplated what to do with me. I could be anything. A plot point for your next poem, fiction, non-fiction, a…

But Memories? — He stood there, hands folded, heartbeats pounding on the rib cage, beads of sweat caressing his forehead, his hands, trembling a bit from the excitement, he breathed air out through his mouth, and a gush of cold air came out of nowhere, and calmed his nerves, instantly. His eyes circumnavigated…

Knots —

Prayers — Let our primaeval utterance, the divine hum, that primal sound of the holy prayers emanating from our soul, percolate within the infinitesimal space, reverberate, oscillate, awaken the uncountable stars, the sun, the moon, divine beings, lying in the unified unbroken string of the cosmos, and, reach the creator of all, the king of kings…