Pauline

Dear Pauline, I am not afraid anymore, Pauline. I have lost my reasons. You have taken away my fears with you when you promised yesterday, with a waning smile, that still wins me over, that yes, you won’t let me fade into oblivion. I hope you knew what you were promising, Pauline. I am writing…

Palette

 Green. He left before you could meet him. You wonder why, running your fingers over the book you wanted him to have, He’s gone. Your friend calls after you, he’s Wondering what you’re staring at, you turn around and look at him, He is smiling, dark eyed, handsome, and perhaps, You understand a little bit….

A letter to Mr. Mood

Dear Mood, I have often wondered if I could master the art of controlling you. You seem to surprise me each and every time. Just when I think I am all grown up and the universe cannot mess with me again, I encounter conflict within me. I realize my emotions are a vulnerable part of…

Blues for the Soul

Friday Night Original Presenting Stories from a Room with The Big Family: Blues for the Soul While watching American movies, we’ve all, at least once, have fantasized of being at a shabby bar, in Chicago or St. Louis, where in a cramped up space, Blues music plays. It has a sort of an appeal, that…

Anonymity: Music

Crowd: A collective group of people reacting similarly to the same stimulus Five years ago I heard a pretentious quote from the mouth of a fellow fourteen year old friend: I love the rain because no one can see my tears. I scoffed at it, appalled at the banality of the statement, the sentimental, simpering…

Calcutta Calling

The traffic signalled red as my big- paunched Bengali driver let out an expletive, pressing down hard on the brakes. I leaned forward involuntarily, as a bronze painted Netaji on horseback, rose into view. I looked out of my closed window, the rain pelting down fast against it, gash-marking them. “Shyambazar”, I sighed with a…