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
This Valentine’s. Be so damn good at what you do, and fall in love. Creatively than you ever have. Art for me. Everyday has been one when I’ve written down my thoughts so raw. About flowers, rose plants, uncle henry and home. Ranch and leaves. To know my deepest truth, to know how pure life … More Dreams. They say come true.
My grandparents made beds for their children. Planted mango trees, so when the children grow up they don’t have to wend to the neighbour’s yard for the fruit. They built a house on the side of the road. With a blue doorway and a long mirror descending down the carpet. Pillars painted in all white. … More Mum’s stories
In the secret backwaters of my hamlet there is someone I like. I learned the leaves as I seem to have no choice. One gossips, another smiles as I turn. Not at me but at someone else, her friends perhaps. Behind her is a riverside, on which is a big boat. Or a ship, what … More So so good
Death happens as I wake up. It was our cook maid’s brother in law. She’s up at four am. Making breakfast before leaving to the house where it’s crowded today. Where people are in silence thinking of a man. They had to wait till this day to offer him flowers.
There were times, mostly during exams, like a coward I want to run. Doors are closed. Daffodils wilt. I wanted to be freed. Uncaged. Like the bare chested lorry drivers who didn’t have to do the math. When I wished I were those trees I climbed. Cashews that my mother picked, roses in her plait. … More About roses
Let go. Of what happened. What is to happen. It’s indeed about the moment we live in. We may read lines that inspire us, people that motivate us. But unless you feel what it is like, you don’t have it yet. And when it happens, you just know it. You just who you really are. … More Letting go