In the stillness of the early morning hours, the empty page stares at me. My pen is poised, ready to chart the course of the flight of my thoughts. The pristine whiteness of the page soothes my mind. Even before I have written anything, I am calm. With the process of writing I get in touch with that part of my soul which is nurtured by silence and blossoms with the light of attention.
Amita stood outside the beautiful bookshop. She peered inside and instantly realised that all was not well. The normally calm and collected, ever-smiling lady at the counter was having an argument with her staff. Upon entering the shop, it was soon clear that some missing papers were the cause of
People nurture different habits to cope with life. The newest phrase I heard was used by a nurse dealing with patients having serious and severe neurological problems. ‘Leap off the Lily pad,’ it is the only way to deal with an emotionally and physically exhausting job, she said. When I
You have a way with words, people say… Words have their way with me, I think. They come at their own beckoning, when I least expect them to. They leave me frustrated in the early morning hours when they know I have no way of capturing them. They flit around
Some time back I resolved that I would not use the car horn more than two and a half times during any drive. It was an experiment that I wanted to conduct for myself to see if it was even possible to drive in this manner in a place like Delhi. So
A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit
Deep and safe in the bushes, it’s time to make a nestPerfect, secure and comfortable, a quiet place to rest I’ll have to work fast and hard, short list a bush or twoSee if it fulfils my criteria, that is the very first thing to do Now, collect the most
I have a sepia tinted photograph of myself as a little baby sitting on my mother`s lap. It is stuck on the inside wall of my cupboard, its edges curling with the burden of the many decades that it has witnessed. It is the first thing I see when I
I was complaining about being ‘bored’ during the summer break. It was a word that was used indiscriminately and liberally by children of all ages. Almost as if it were an illness that we had contracted, much like the viral or malaria… Trust my mother to find a solution that
My happiest memories involve the mountains. For somebody living in the plains, the simple act of filling up a back pack means lightening up the weight of ones existence to an amount that one can carry on ones own back. By the process of elimination, almost every thing seems dispensible, except for the very
