Teacher : What’s love ?

Kid : Mama !




What if your fingers run into knots

rather than silken routes ?

What if , unlike perfectly trimmed hedges,

those brows are unattended ?

Would you let your lips linger and taste all that she is ?

What if the half moons of dark under her eyes keep you from walking into the shadowy sanctum of her soul ?

What if her songs are not perfectly pitched?

Will you still hold her close enough for  your breath and hers to blend into perfect harmony ?



Confined to the bed but her eyes sparkling with joy , she waited for his call . It didn’t come . He had forgotten .

Three weeks later , he received a call that she wouldn’t make it beyond a few days . He requested the nurse to show her the screen and smiled, “ Grandma , am coming . Hold on .”

Staring at the screen, all she mumbled was , “ Who are you ?” . This time she had forgotten , forever .


They dive

hoping to drown

into pools of satin

by the shores of sin

breathlessly , deep ,

to discover treasures

they thought they’d lost.

With remnants of eachother

salvaged , they rise , alive .

Their hearts beating louder

than the breaker’s roar,

Alive , more than they’ve

ever been before .