Literature

One early December afternoonWhen I was strollingunder the mellow winter sunlightMy eyes caught uponA pink beauty, so heavenly, so divineI saw the worldRolling under the falling blossomsOf the cherry blossom tree Distinctively…

Those who have stories Do not tell any of them. An unvoiced saga May have one or more of The occasional clamour Least likely to resound The one interviewed Is the man next door The one worshipped Is a blind poet…

"Starting from my Dad, who created me, to my better half who creates love for me in everything! A girl first learns to trust a man when she sees her father, who always keeps her trust… She gets introduced to her brother, in form…

Whenever you are in need,There is exactly no one to close the lid.It is then you realize,The days are yours to seize. Alone you walk into this world,Lonely the path will be;Better to stand alone,Then to stray away with others'…

Oh, Mornings,You are cool, serene, and peacefulYour flirting, soothing breeze;Gazing through my inner soulCalming its’ strenuous mind... Oh, Mornings,Why don't you stay a little longer?Why can't the day wait a little while?Why can't we…

Mystical Autumn, arriving with bliss,More like the season with holiday spirit.Carrying "Stories" throughout the year,Nature is assembling them all in "here’’. Falling leaves signifying the essence of “Mortality’’,Within us, a dance of…

The shadow of my long dayDoes it still pace back and forth with pain?The sad memories in my heartCan’t be erased with spilling tearsFrom where should I erase?I can only let out an empty laughClear memories nailed in my heart.Faces that…

In 1981 when Harold Evans sat on the pinnacle of British journalism , The Sunday Times, and was writing his first policy editorial, he heard the voice of Abraham Lincoln in his ear. The President had said in 1861 ,' he knew nothing more…

Life is full of struggles. Some people understand this soon enough and some take a long time to realize this truth and learn to deal with it. It is true that “Time waits for none” and in the meantime, we lose our own virtue and personality…

For it has been 253 days now,My letterbox lies emptyI still am being optimisticWhen butterflies would run across my stomachWhen would I get remembered certainly?The postman comes once in a whileringing his cycle's bell"Finally I am…