very true
And very well written :)
very interesting, especially your thoughts in the end.
The first one, let’s call him
Mr. R, the responsible one
Teenage was new
So was the passion
The new crush obsession
R was a nice kind
The good boy, a family guy
Friendship was destiny
Ahh! love, a casualty
I like you, he said
My girl best friend
Alas! I was friendzoned
Love is possible, he said
But you are too young
A child to me
Oh! the irony
He is now married
To the woman as old as me
The second one, let’s call him Mr. T, the tall one T was competing with R The two resided…
I had always fancied the idea of going to a random place and exploring it on my own. And when I finally did it, I learned to overcome my own inhibitions that not only concerned travel but so many other things, too.
Before moving to a new place, I always make numerous plans related to my daily schedule, lifestyle, and so many other things, out of which most of them remain unaccomplished. In Nov ’18, I moved to the US from India as part of an internal team transition. But before I moved, I made big plans in my head…
Of the two opposing sides, the winner indeed gets to narrate their version of the story. The loser, if dead, is not only defeated on the battlefield, but their stories remain untold or distorted in the books of history. History, which is supposed to speak volumes about the past, remains incomplete without the version of the losing side. And so, it happened with beloved Cleopatra too, a hero for her people, but a villain for the Romans.
Cleopatra is a perfect example of a strong, independent woman, undeterred by the views of outsiders. A woman full of love, passion, and…
Hi poor soul,
I call you that because
I’m worried
Are you suffering from a disease?
Because I saw drops of your pee on the seat.
Floating in the commode, too
Unflushed!
Memory issues?
Did you forget to flush your peepee?
And clean the seat?
Ummm, perhaps I should not call you a poor soul,
Maybe you are a big star.
With imaginary big assets
That you didn’t realize
Were showering the whole commode
No, you did not hit the bull’s eye.
I’ll clarify
Perhaps you think it’s not your duty.
To put the wipes inside the dustbin. …
You probably don’t know me,
Won’t ever know me.
I am an erased past
A love that didn’t last
And if I do exist,
I am probably
Buried in the bottom
Of the memory pool
But do listen to me,
Please, I insist.
I don’t hate you, why should I?
But I do envy you
Like I envy my sister,
When she fits better
In the dress
I had my eyes on
Don’t get me wrong
I’m happy for you
I truly am
I am happy for him too.
Do you wonder why?
Here, let me tell you.
You showered…
We entered a dungy smelling cabin in the train. As soon as we entered, my dad said, “Call them out, call them weak, hurry!”
I did not understand what he meant until I looked at “them.”
On my left were two stacked layers of women with their heads hanging out, covered in scarves. They looked frail. Some a little healthier. Their faces transforming slowly.
The ones on the upper layer of the stack called out the ones below, “weak, get out, die.” There was a repetitive chanting of the words, the words reaching the ears of lower deck women. They…
A traveling enthusiast and a keen storyteller. Find out more at penning-silly-thoughts.com or buy me a coffee at ko-fi.com/ajita.