Belongings of Buried Longings

It was an extraordinary autumn morning. He’d lived in the city for nine years now but it had never rained this time of the year. Today, however, a soft shower bathed the city. He was not particularly fond of rains. But the cool drizzles were a welcome change in the autumn heat. And well, it... Continue Reading →

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#Quoted: Good story ideas seem to come from…

Let's get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun.... Continue Reading →

Life

Perhaps, life was not a mystery to be solved but an adventure to be kissed Hello reader, I hope you are enjoying my poems. With the micropoetry series, I am inviting prompts for writing poems. Do share your one-word prompts you would love to see etched in a poem and I shall love to oblige.... Continue Reading →

The Hate I Harbored

Time wasn't on our side. Today, when it is too late, I convince myself thus. Maybe I wasn't the right age to understand. Maybe you were too harsh that I suffered in vain. Maybe I comprehended you wrong. Maybe you misunderstood me much. I believed you knew what you were doing. Unleashing a world of... Continue Reading →

#Quoted: The most valuable…

Here's a timeless advice that will take any writer; good at his trade, to places. Being economical with your words, not just makes it idiot-proof but also enhances the quality of your work tremendously. And of course, nothing's excluded of this rule but the first drafts. What do you think? What do you think? How important... Continue Reading →

#Quoted: Read everything…

I like authors who lay emphasis on the importance of reading. Stephen King said the first thing he ever did was put out the television and get to the book. Ernest Hemingway was always reading. He would read almost everything he could lay his hands on. J K Rowling never read a book that didn't... Continue Reading →

Books

and those books were not books but souls who understood me better than all the beings of the world put together ~~~~~ So, here's the thing - I intend to do a lot of poem-publishing this year. Why? Because: 1. I love writing poems 2.I found an abandoned lot of scribbles from few years back. I... Continue Reading →

Day 170: When Dad left for his Maker

There are nights I wake up in a haze. My eyes travel to your rocking chair at the end of the room. Is it truly rocking or is it my mind playing tricks? It is difficult to say in the dark of the night. I stare hard and long as if staring longer would make... Continue Reading →

Goodbye 2018!

More than half of the year passed by within the blink of an eye. Rest half of it was spent traveling through some of the most beautiful canvases of the country. All in all, I can't say if I am happy or sad. It's a neutral ground I find myself in. I dig my heart... Continue Reading →

In Arabian Nights: An Excerpt

“People think I am a writer,' he would say, 'and when they think that they are missing the point. I write things down but the writing is just a tool. It's nothing more than ink arranged over a surface of wood pulp. If they had real insight, they would see that I am really a... Continue Reading →

The Pen’s Plight

the night grows curious as soon as she lights the lamp she moves the chair in place with a groan and a screech it obliges she picks up the pen the ink resists the flow refuses to let go a violent jerk forces it to action half-hearted, the pen gives into submission but only to... Continue Reading →

Requiem For Christmas: A Poem by Jim Milks

It is Christmas time again, The time when family and friends congregate But on the table is kept an empty plate A space that is kept bare For a mother or father that is no longer there Ribbons, bows, and other pretty things Can never replace the joy that a person brings Although they maybe... Continue Reading →

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