Calm as lakes that sleep, her gentle eyes have concealed more than I would ever know. Her calendar has more appointments than days, fine lines crisscrossed along the marginalia. Her eyes brave the storm of apathy that’s there in the world of humans and their hollow notions.
Calm as lakes that sleep Read More »
In a profession which makes him see death too close for comfort (searching cadaver at the bottom of the Naini lake) Hanuman strums all the right notes to the melody that life can be.
For whom the bell tolls… Read More »
There is this mad race of the world. And although the majority would tell you differently, often it is wisest not to participate in it. Pity, it takes an entire lifetime and yet the runners don’t know where the ribbon is and more importantly, why they are running?
“Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on.
I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.”
― Jonathan Safran Foer
I have been preoccupied in working on a series of poems that addresses the hitherto neglected segment of Canine literature. By this I mean, not literature about Canines, but literature by canines.
Live this day as if it will be your last. Remember that you will only find tomorrow on the calendars of fools. Forget yesterday’s defeats and ignore the problems of tomorrow. This is it. Doomsday. All you have. Make it the best day of your year. The saddest words you can ever utter are, If I had my life to live over again. Take the baton, now. Run with it! This is your day! Beginning today, treat everyone you meet, friend or foe, loved one or stranger, as if they were going to be dead at midnight. Extend to each person, no matter how trivial the contact, all the care and kindness and understanding and love that you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.
