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In quest of...

The time was lonely,
while my day cast stars
stars, unseen by the night.

I was howling through the bamboo,
rustling onto the leaves
stifling from the beggar's yawn and 
roaring into the tide.
yet I was with none but me
in wanderlust, in quest of glee.

I was caressing the ripples of the lake
glimmering through the creak of a door
shimmering onto the mirror that held a smiling face
ablaze on the heated coarse sand.
yet I was with none but me
in wanderlust, in quest of glee.

I was meditating upon the shambles of soil
casting colour onto the solemn' main 
setting destinations for their wings to flap
cleaving between day and night.
yet I was with none but me
in wanderlust, in quest of glee.

I was coarse yet firm,
bore their footsteps without frown
held their roots to my bosom
nurturing them to shoot and blossom.
yet I was with none but me
in wanderlust, in quest of glee.

I was told,
here is glee.
I am here to flap 
not flee.
 I broke some hearts
and told to me,
"you are with none but me
wandering yet rooted
in quest yet in glee."

I asked me;
"what are you in quest of, then?"
and it hit hard,
hard enough to not mend
"I am in search of me!"

Image courtesy: Internet


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Getting back to being Ms. Beautiful braid!

It was the time when my mom used to struggle for time. She would wake up early in the morning with her hair as beautifully braided as ever and I would be shook awake to have that traditional head massage with a mixture of hot coconut and castor oil with the extracts of sun-dried hibiscus, henna and fenugreek. After I sleepily shampoo my hair followed by the massage, my mom would pat it dry with a thin towel and would carefully part my hair into sections to try different types of braids on my curly but soft hair.

As she tamed my dense and curly hair into braids of every possible beauty, I would sit there bored with the palm of my hands supporting my cheek. In spite of lack of time, my mother made it a point to wake up ten minutes early everyday just to make time for the wonderful braids that her fingers weaved with my hair. After she finished with the styling, I would gaze at my own self in the mirror and brim at her with pride on my face.

I would say occasionally, "Maa, you can b…


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


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