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Sunrise at the hilly woods

Not a leaf twitched,
in the forests of the hill,
the air was still and the woods seemed deserted,
as the dark skies turned grey,
and tiny rays of light filled the sky,
like a pearly white tiara on a woman's head.

The birds that nested in the damp trees,
started to stir and wake up with stifling yawns,
they spread their arched wings wide,
and flew in the air with their hollow bones,
away from their nestlings in search of prey.

The sky was now poured with bright rays,
of the early sun rising magnificently from the horizon,
like a valiant king rising in the battle with his gleaming sword.
The grey old owl and the mangy bats rushed inside,
their hollows, in the ancient trees of the hilly woods.

The tallest coconut tree,
dropped its ripe coconuts on the bushy grounds,
and the squirrils from nowhere
trotted hastily to lift the huge nut with their tiny hands.
they lifted the huge nut together and carried it to their place.

As the macaws and the cuckoo,
started to sing songs of the bright morning,
the jubliant sun rose to its fullest,
flooding the forest with warmth and light,
illuminating the hopes of the beings ablaze!

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                                                                    Image: Internet
If you had missed the previous chapters of the story: Click here Chapter 1Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3


It was the fall again, they had gone for a stroll outside the university campus into the beautiful park where snowy trees surrounded the white spread and there were very few passers-by due to the freezing chill.
The two of them hovered around enjoying the beauty carpeted around them. Maureen had already gone down, working her gloved hands into the snowy layers. She started rolling a huge ice ball with a grin on her pink face. Steve looked at her dazed by the tinkle of her eyes and the jingle that her laughter spread in his heart.  The moist wind ruffled her blond hair, some of which fell onto her face like a wave onto the shores.
Steve just stood there with his hands folded, his lips curved into a mesmerizing smile and his eyebrows were arched in sheer amazement of what was happening to him that moment.   He felt…

Being humane

Every dawn dooms with wail


I never opine but in my daze,

For I am human, humane.

Image courtesy: Internet

To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…