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His silence was depressing His emotions, hidden He couldn't fake a smile anymore Her silence was her answer her integrity, overt She embraced his sorrow henceforth He walked a million miles away she followed his steps till the end of the day her tears were her love his hatred, her strength she bore the adversities, yet walked forth his heart did melt in oblivion, his misery was he couldn't evade her love anymore His silence was warm his emotions, at peace he took to mend the heart he once tore her perseverance was answered their love bloomed and they didn't need words anymore...

This poem was published in the May issue of Expressions Unlimited. Read it  here She ain’t the same anymore With expectations Came her discontents No one knows whom her wrath is for No, She ain’t the same anymore With beauty Came her hauteur No one knows how many hearts she tore No, she ain’t the same anymore With talents Came her indomitability No one knows if any flaws she bore And I asked her if she has changed I wondered if times had her feigned And pondered if destiny had this arranged That those attributes she reigned She answers as I, on her, did pore “With sufferings Came my existence Oh Yes, I am not the same anymore.”

Plot: Contemporary Beauty and the Beast with alternating narration Plot Credits: Prasanna Rao This post is a voluntary submission for the 6th exercise of Indifiction Workshop. Read the story  here . I looked at the pathetically selfish being in the mirror. I was terrified by my own cruelty. The way I just acted in front of poor Priya. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I stood in front of the mirror, crying for the first time in what seemed like a thousand years. Loving someone doesn’t mean that you ought to own that person. “ Let her go ”, kept saying a voice in my head. I mustered the courage and walked to her room where she was sitting on her bed hugging her pillow all wet by her tears. “I am sorry, Priya”. I said. “You should go with your sisters to Goa for the vacation like they have asked for. I apologize for holding you back.” I somehow felt relieved after verbalizing those words. Indeed my heart broke a little but it was my penance as in the three years of our ma...

She tossed and turned in her bed. Tears, there were, flowing from her tiny eyes, which he had lovingly called almond-like. She never understood how can someone’s eyes look like almonds, but leaving all logic behind, she loved anything he would call her. He wasn't anywhere near to call her anything anymore. Since the last three months, he was gone. “’Lost’ is the word”, she would explain. Indeed, he was lost; she lost him to the hands of time and fate, to the hands of love and hate. She had wailed, begged him to stop. He didn't stop that day, nor did he look back as he walked out with his suitcase and backpack. She had called his name out, so loud that even her neighbours came out of their houses. But he didn't for once turn around, not even to bid his final adieu. “Probably he didn't hear me, he has always been absent-minded in his own train of thoughts”, she had reasoned herself like a dutiful wife. Three months have passed since she...

Let's play with fire tonight set our dreams on flight relive all the memories all that's gone out of sight Lets play with fire tonight ditch the lull of the night make new memories let the lost love ignite Let's play with fire tonight do all the things that incite mess about in those memories memories of that amorous night Let's play with fire tonight for we know it will burn bright pieces of the torn memories and nothing will ever be alright

“Are you a lesbian?” A friend of mine once asked me mockingly when we were discussing about my aversion from some (“some” not “all”) kind of men. “No. But does it matter?” I asked her scornfully. No, I wasn’t bothered that I was asked a question about my sexuality. But what I didn’t understand was that is being a lesbian a matter to be jeered about? What if I was one? Wouldn’t I be hurt and embarrassed that my sexuality was just mocked at? Why are the words “gay” or “lesbian” used as slangs? Another incident, that took place a couple of years back, was when I was teasing two girl friends of mine, accusing them of having an affair. I considered it as normal as teasing a guy and a girl. One of them found it so disrespectful that she, instead of simply denying the fact, chided that she isn’t of such “third class” standard. I later discussed the small argument that we had, with her, trying to make my point that being a lesbian or a transgender doesn’t define anyone’s cla...

What if money weren't an object? Would we be together then, In some faraway land? Or would we work till late night, Just like we do every time? And would we say we love our jobs, as much as we love our sidelines? Would we spend so little time, with friends, as we do now? What if money didn't matter? Would we let the childhood dreams shatter?