Have you ever heard the tale of Aunty ji? The one who loves hovering over people's lives like a busy bee, to extract juicy tales from each young flower - she knows no rest - at your back, at all hours! She's the annoyingly boisterous social butterfly, laden with jewelry on kitty-party nights. She wants… Continue reading AUNTY JI
It was on the first of January, dark grey skies, his fiftieth new year - when straight to the hospital, the family did carry, The Disbeliever, in hopes he’d recover. Hospital sounds, and smells and fear, (A contrast to the outside festivity); The wife dabbed at her wet eyes, “Oh, dear! Oh dear! Is this… Continue reading Disbeliever
Dearest pair of eyes-number-two, I hate how I can't do without you; how you won't let me read lying down, and push yourself up and out as if you'd drown; then fall onto my side and cross your arms in anger, submitting me to your whims and fancies and temper! You get dusty in a… Continue reading GLASSES
Poetry born of inspiration, isn't long in labour! © Isha Garg
