Sometimes we all need a guardian angel. And sometimes, once we are better, we try to help others. And when we can't, we try to get help for others the same way we got help ourselves. This is an interesting poem for me personally, because this is where I started exploring narrative styles within poetry. This poem doesn't follow conventional standards of any sort. The attempt was to keep free of all restrictions, and find my own style.
Tales and yarns are but an extension of our world. They are an escape from reality, and symbolise our fears and hopes. We pour ourselves into the stories we tell and write, and it is through stories we often speak to others. This blog is a celebration of all stories that I have the fortune to cross, and a bit of obsessive analysis of my own self through these tales. These pages also serve as a writing pad for my own musings - poems, short stories, and the like.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Creative Poetry: A walk in the rain
I love the rain. I love getting drenched to the bone. The sweet tingling sensation when each drop hits your body, the intimacy of your interaction with nature, it all gets to me. So I am usually amazed when people prefer not to. This poem dates back to this one time, when I went out walking in the rain - got drenched, had something hot from a roadside vendor, and returned on the same way, to see a tree hit by lightning and get split in two. I initially wanted to write about the beauty and terror of that moment, and yet got swept away by the flow of this poem, and the result was something else entirely - something based on a very simple act of friendship I got to witness - one that trumped even lightning. Read on.
Labels:
Beauty,
Cold,
creative poetry,
Drenched,
Friendship,
Growing Up,
Life,
Love,
Own,
Poem,
rain,
Walk,
Warm
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Tale Share: Nathuram Godse's Final Speech
We all have grown up learning how Nathuram Godse assassinated the Father of our nation. But we hardly ever ask why. And when we do, we hear that it was because he held Gandhi responsible for the partition. But what thinking went behind such a drastic action? Read on to hear from the horse's mouth. I give you Nathuram's unedited final statement at his trial following Gandhi's assassination. Read on.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Creative Fiction: Last/First Step
Labels:
Acceptance,
Creative Fiction,
darkness,
dead,
Despair,
Life,
Light,
lonely,
Loss,
Love,
Moon,
Night,
Ocean,
Own,
Pondicherry,
Rejection,
Waves
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
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