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The Musing Quill

A Blog on Writing, Poetry, Stories and Books.

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Writing

Years

the rear view mirror saw the tears kept hidden for so many years ~~~~~ Written for the prompt #years on Instagram. If you too are on Instagram, you can find it here. ~~~~~ Asha Seth

On Diwali…

A walk a mile filled the heart with smiles this is the only time the city shines brighter than a million sparkling stars in the deep blue night the glint from a thousand diyas devours the darkness the happy lanterns... Continue Reading →

As the poems go…

As the poems go into the thousands you realize that you've created very little. It comes down to the rain, the sunlight, the traffic, the nights and the days of the years, the faces. Leaving this will be easier than... Continue Reading →

The Queer Night

Pitch dark it was. Even the midnight shadows had sought shelter. I looked out the window again. Unsure if I really had heard something or just imagined. It had stopped raining. The water-logged street outside filled me with disgust. Rotting... Continue Reading →

The Third Date

(I) 'Are we still strangers?' The message read. It was about five months since we first met on the online book-reading site. Bookish talks, endless discussions on favorite authors, sharing quotes and dialogues, greatly summed up our chat affair. Many... Continue Reading →

Sometimes, I am a writer…

Sometimes, I am a writer. Most times, just a dreamer. Sometimes, I am a writer. Most times, just an observer. Sometimes, I am a writer. Most times, just a muser. Sometimes, I am a writer. Most times, just a craver.... Continue Reading →

Dream

When the child was asked to draw his dream, the colours couldn't paint enough, the brush gave up too soon. ~~~~~ Written for the writing prompt #dream on Instagram. If you too are on Instagram, you can find it here. ~~~~~... Continue Reading →

The Last Letter (2/2)

The first part of the story is here. He promised himself he wouldn’t drink. No. He can’t let the pain leave him. It has to keep beating inside him just like his heart, reminding him how it hurt, how she... Continue Reading →

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