For, afterall I was a son. HIS son. And not the ‘son of the terrorist.’ And yes, he was who he was. But he was a loving father. MY loving father.
Will you forgive me?
Months after our marriage I was pregnant.We talked about our child’s name weather its a girl or a boy you didn’t care.
The Sculptor’s Lover
The Sculptor set his tools around,And lost himself away,To seek in stone, his love profound,Like stars in brightest day!So as the chisel etched its course,He found his lover near,
STRENGTH OF LOVE
I ran back to Mother’s room. There she was, sitting in the bed, reading a book, with her glasses on. She smiled when she saw me. I ran towards her and hugged her tight like I would never let go.
Moonlight overwhelms the room
The moon is watching the old house at the distance… the mother puts off lamp oil … and in her open arms embraces her daughter, while the moon’s light overwhelms the room…
Lovely Days
Seemed completely filmy but he was waiting and before I would say something, he started telling me that he was in love, love that he never felt for any girl.
But the candles burnt
The candles in all the rooms were lit. The windows were opened to let the room airy. Now that I felt voracious, I made some quick snacks for me in the candle light.
Lazy
You, my dear reader, are 100% Human! You can read what I just now wrote under a span of 2 minutes. How incredible! It took me over a month to write these few lines.
‘Kleen” Bowled…
Let’s Land on Mars!
I found that Ankit has had this one big incinerating desire right since his early school days of getting to work with the NASA.
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