Poems have always done them more justice than pages of a book. In a poem, verses could be interpreted in different ways and she stood behind rhymes and patterns to defend her harsh words.
“You, me, and a cup of coffee,” he said. “I don’t like to share,” I asserted. “What?” he looked confused. “You said a cup of coffee which implies that we will be drinking out of one cup. I like my coffee in a particular way and I don’t like to share,” I tried to explain.…… Continue reading December is a revolutionary month: an incomplete story.
Suddenly, I found myself running under roaring grey clouds threatening to explode over my head. No umbrella, no sheltered sidewalks and closed coffee shops. I was only shielded by the thin jacket on my back and black ankle boots. I remember increasing my walking pace gradually because I was late for something. Late for meeting…… Continue reading Dream chronicles – first of many