I stopped working when I had her, there are thousands of moments I would have missed otherwise (this doesn’t mean working women don’t spend time and dote on their kids, … Continue reading Being Mom
Some stories leave an everlasting impression on you. I don’t know as of yet whether ‘Birthday Girl’ by Murakami did that for me or not. But, one thing is for … Continue reading “Your twentieth birthday…it’s an irreplaceable day.”
All of us in our childhood have played dress up with an older sister’s dress or mother’s sarees. Those were the days when smearing lipstick on lips and chin, smudging … Continue reading The Mixed Bag Shopping
I’m afraid, I lose sense of time most of the day. One minute I’m writing and the other I’m just lost, lost somewhere in the land of imagination. Everything seems to be replica of what I’m living now except that I’m able to change situations, expressions, gestures, even feelings on a whim.
It’s like living parallel with a world of my imagination. It’s flexible. I don’t even try much to get there. I just am naturally there. It’s in the real world, it takes efforts to come back to.
Memory is a fragile thing. Memories – a tenuous affair
You want to hold it close and sheltered within the walls of that skeletal structure looming over your shoulders.
You do too. Voluntary, involuntary.
But, then it has its own way of escaping, it slips out of the bounds and becomes the gentle air, floats around you, engulfs you. It’s like that wine, matured over the years, reeling your senses into the realm where unreal is more real.
Do you want to lose yourself? Do you even have a choice?