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Hallo!

Been close to two months since I blogged last. Weird feeling. No, I am nowhere close to shutting down Ire if you are thinking on these lines. I have just been busy. Life has been a crazy mix of things; some good stuff, some really horrible stuff.

Professionally, things are looking up for both of us which means that we have less time to devote to things we  love doing. I haven't been reading or reviewing or writing anything at all. Days pass by in a blur which is good in a way as it keeps me away from the personal shit happening around me otherwise. The past few months have been bad on the personal front (not between him and I, but the others). 


I am dying to go on a vacation. I want to visit Bhutan or Ladhakh. Wish me luck folks! 


P.S: I am working on a interesting post. Hope to update soon.


P.S.S: I was in Mumbai briefly, very briefly. I want more...
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A book review – Whispering Paths

The first time I interviewed someone for an assignment, the piece came back with a remark which read – ‘MOTS’ needs flesh, i.e. man on the street needs flesh! Whatever that meant, confusion was my first reaction to it. However, with writing and then rewriting the same assignment over, and over again, I realized that I had to add character or rather more ‘meat’ to the story. So what is my point here? I am trying to say that when someone asks me to read a new book or try a new author, I am generally wary of them. Why? Because I do not want to read through the book like a zombie because there is nothing (in terms of ‘meat) in its story or the characters!
But (There is always a catch, isn’t it?) Whispering Paths by Sneha Subramanian Kanta is different. Her debut publication has already put her in a league of writers who are out there to tell stories; stories that touch a chord deep within us and haunt us (in a good way) for time to come. Stories that a reader can relate to, feel the pain, …

What you get when you get a Dog...

Of moist wet noses and itchy ears, Pinpricks as bites and scratchy burs.
Ticks and twists, trips and tears, Licks and nips, and soulful stares.
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From A Dream

(Image only for representation purpose. Copyright lies with the artist. Not Waving but Drowning Fine Art Print - Trudi Doyle)



He walked, bare feet, on a mass of crushed sea-shells Coarse sand clung onto him, he watched her Afar; sitting motionless on a wind-beaten rock As if waiting for knell
'Wosh-wosh' screamed the waves Gloriously furious, crashing on the moss-covered dock They came high, they came low Yet slow, the sea so magnificent they seemed insignificant He watched her, sitting motionless As if waiting for knell
Ominous clouds o'er head played hide-n-seek with the moon threatening to steal light till noon He prayed, she'd move and he'd take her away
somewhere warm, happy and safe
And then she turned to look at him,
Him eager, she like waif, smiled
his heart in blithe
Only to step deep into the waters
Now safe from the knell



(This is from a dream I had recently)