Note to self.


Will people understand me? My words? Will they read me? What will they feel? Relatable or unrealistic? These questions cross my mind every now and then. I don’t want to live the kind of life, everyone around me are living. Scheduled, timed and monotonic to be glued to specific boundaries and limits. I don’t want…

What’s my story?


​“What’s my story?” I happened to ask myself one afternoon when I had few seconds to stretch my sore muscles between the therapy sessions lined up for the day. “Is it what you pretend to the world or what lies beneath your scared and healed skin?” My mind questioned me. I was suddenly confused about…

Kuch log kehte hai.


Yuhi kuch dino se, Kuch kahi ankahi baato ko sunna, Yeh ladki toh aisi na thi, Isme toh phele sharmo haya thi. Nazre jhuka ke chalti thi, Sharmati thi, kabhi kabhi muskurati thi, Aaj toh sar pe duppatta bhi na tha, Jane kaha chod aayi woh apni haya. Log kehte hai shayad dhoka khaya hai…