Smart thing

It will not happen when I want it. It will take its own time I’ve realised. Certain experiences, and people. It’s a pure thing, writing. It won’t happen if the purpose is wicked and untrue. It won’t even come close if it finds out I’m doing this for fortune. Glory or anything worldly. Smart thing, … More Smart thing


Some lines when I’m writing, some thoughts so raw. Truest. I don’t have to wait. I know even before it ends that it’s gonna cross 70 likes and have a comment or two on Instagram.

Beena madame

When madame in school thumped my plam with a scale, my cells turned red. When my mother comes the next day, concerned, climbing the stairs much as I don’t remember asking her to; I see her from the top stair. A clutch in her hand. She folds the umbrella. Roof pouring. Madame was sorry already. … More Beena madame

More of Anna, Jane

And when Anna, Jane flee I didn’t want to partake with the others perceiving their walking away. Nestled we all were, at the doorstep I wanted go. With them I found their high living my comforts. I saw no better clan. But they wouldn’t hearken me. In brown skirts. Someone told them it was a … More More of Anna, Jane