What's meant for you will not pass you by like empty roads or bright streetlights; wait, dear soul, like trees in winter nights, for boughs rich with ripe fruit, in the springtime! © Isha Garg Thank you, my dear reader, for your continued support, with all my heart! Warmest wishes for, and see you in,… Continue reading Ishaism – December
Mistletoes and snowflakes, the icicles on tin roofs, and somewhere from the North Pole - the sound of reindeer hoofs! Jingle those bells, Christmas is here; the paths carpeted in snow - welcomed by "God rest ye merry gentlemen" on the grand piano! Time to wipe off the winter from our hearts and rekindle those… Continue reading Mistletoes and Snowflakes
On a rainy day I sat to read, with a mug of scalding hot tea... but watched instead the dripping rain, from the edges of the concrete, by the window of my study... In perfect unison did they drip - like the deft finger movements of a pianist, playing a stormy sonata on the neighbouring… Continue reading On a rainy day I sat to read…
Musical notes lined up in harmony, before the poet's flute; musical notes created an enchanting symphony when the poet wrote. Musical notes found themselves in jeopardy, when the thief one night stole; musical notes now creak in a cacophony devoid of honesty and soul. © Isha Garg
Who says the dead leave, and tell no tales? I hear stories of the lost and gone, in the winds and gales; in the shadows of time, they move and dwell - their goodbyes sudden, devoid of the death knell. But I've seen many a person leave, and my queries quell; known how to be… Continue reading Who says the dead leave, and tell no tales?