This is to all the friends I have had so far. Even the ones that I no longer talk with. Thank you for the part you played in my life. I don’t want to put up photos of my friends and flaunt about how they are my “life” and my “soul mates” and blah blah blah. Because that would just be a shallow exaggeration!
The poem that I’m sharing today was composed by me way back in 2009! I just had discovered this new talent in me and this is my 6th piece of creative writing ever.
So…the inspiration behind this is an incident from a trek. You will give the gist of it as you read through.
What a day it was! Along with my regular job as a Researcher and a Content Writer, I do teach History to 12th Std students at an arts academy. And today we visited Kanheri caves as a field trip. Here’s a little something about Kanheri:
This is what we normally hear in the local trains, but have we ever pondered as to why this place came to be known as “Sion” in English and “Sheev” in Marathi?
For a really good break from the daily routine, get off that local train and take a tour into the calm forts and the buzzing Bazaars of Sion, right in the heart of the Mumbai.
What a day today! It’s raining cats and dogs all over Maharashtra and as the ‘life line’ of Mumbai had crumbled, I’m sure most of us would have spent a beautiful day at home, enjoying these torrential rains! Well..I had an amazing day most certainly.
I got stuck, paddled my way through the railway tracks which were waterlogged, made some new friends and finally got home by afternoon. And the rest of the day was very cosy and relaxed. I got to spend time with my family and we played board games! It was amazing and this has inspired me..hope you guys like it 🙂
“How beautiful is the rain
After the dust and heat
In the broad and fiery street
And the narrow lane
How beautiful is the rain…”
My first attempt at writing a short story.
As the crowded ‘Virar fast’ pulled in at Borivali station, he boarded it again, for the fourth time today. He loved every bit of the journey. The crowds did not dampen his excitement neither did the suspicious glances. He was oblivious to the fact that, his to and fro journey from Virar to Borivali four times in a row, had him spotted by the railway police.
“Sakal chya pari hari naam bola….vasudev ala re vasudev ala….”
This morning as I was hurrying around my house getting ready to leave for my office I heard a beautiful voice, loud and clear, singing from the streets below. A ‘Vasudev’ was singing away to the rhythm of chiplya.