DABBLER SCRIBBLES

“This is the report on the sculptures we have excavated at the Mayan excavation site”, Stanius drew the little blue file, from his bag that he packed for the flight at the moment he got a call for the sudden meeting at the departmental office at an hour ago, and handed it over to Mrs. Herlet.                     A 25 year old workaholic, Stanius...

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Never had she wept like she now weeps, To see their child go to endless sleeps, The thirsty bullets that spilled the blood, The walls that saw the red turned mud, The books that mumble their names still, The empty benches at the school to fill, What about the mother that awaits, To feed her hungry child few sweetened dates, What about the...

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“You get the documents and I will wait here”, Arnav urged Faizaan to get the college documents while he waited for him in the dim light of the mosque near his house. The mosque that seemed calm suddenly broke its silence by the “Adhan- prayer calls”. The little steps that walked the muezzin to the Minaret top was beautified by the green flags....

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                                                                          (This is the 25th post of the blog and I wrote this one dedicating to the wonderful works of Shakespeare and his splendid sonnets, poems of 14...

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Glow with me through this lucent night, Amidst the dark in the city lights, Like the hundred blazing suns, Splendid, nocturnal, selfless burns, Street lamps like the glowing stars, Dazzling city at these late hours, What you see is not farfetched now, Step along I will show you how, Décor night with these luminous dots, Never more pretty and ever will be not,...

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“Pay for the ticket or get down from the bus”, the ticket collector was aggressive now. “Are you going to pay?” he exclaimed at the old man who was all dressed up in his dowdy clothes, with a series of stitches on his shirt screaming out his poverty. “Sir, please… I do not have enough for the fair but I need to go...

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                                                                                                                               ...

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You are to write as does a writer’s pen, Like the verse that long freed men, So break down the art of thinking, Rebuild, rethink, rehearse, reborn, And be the one, not sinking, Do not despair, agonize, halt or rest, Embrace the core, let go off your crest, So bring all that you can, From the little shelves of your heart, The nooks...

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Hatred forged, disaster stricken, Murderous souls no mercy reckoned, The least beauty in the fabric of time, A weave, god said was not mine, Heliographies of the wasted emotion, A heart, amidst the chaotic nation, When cupid was flying back to Olympus, With his arrows, looking less pompous, What shall the fate here be? He stood there for once to see, The little...

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It was Rudra’s 5th gaze at the building today. He comes every day to the park with his umbrella and gaze at the 7th floor of the Mortan Apartments at least once, but today he was all stuck there.                                   Handling the company’s marketing, he earned great and had all the luxuries one can mention. He had no regrets but a pile of...

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(This post is to depict the fact that "Nothing unites us as does a disaster" and also that there are still a considerable group of people who believe in caste and creed differences!!    thank you for reading :)  )  “Look at the man out there, I am sure he must be low born”. Friday evening and Utkarsh and Tavish were on their...

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9 feet tall, spreading its beautiful arms to embrace everyone it stood amidst the little creepers and a few concrete boulders of a broken wall fence. It stood rather strong now, today, it stood like never before, that little tree.                                 3 years back when Mr. Singh decided to plant it in the open courtyard, he was very skeptic of its survival. A...

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Delusion in every thought, Bricks merged to build a home, Filth in words burnt at heart, Astonished at starry nights, Craving for love, Surplus hatred to live by, But that peaceful river flow, Refugee of our emotions, Two lives succumb into one, Yet different from each other, Like the banks of a brook, Walking together but never meeting. ...

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“Miss Neer you look as pretty as ever”. Arnav blushed as he saw Miss Neer. It was the seventh floor of the company and Arnav has his desk in the rightmost corner of the floor, desk number 26. Arnav had a liking for Miss Neer. He loved the smell of her perfume, the sweet cardilac, the little pearl necklace around her neck, her...

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Anybody can answer this? The professor cleared his throat only to scream again….. Anyone? I knew what he was asking for, what he expects as an answer but I chose not to raise a voice or my hand. Saturday afternoon cradling in the soft breezes which sneaked in through the window, accompanied by the euphoria of the new blossoms touched by their aroma,...

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“Click a pic!” Arnav threw his camera at me while he got himself busy appreciating the beauty of place. 9 am in the morning and we were at the fort palace of Nizams, rulers of Hyderabad and nothing got better than peeping over the city from the fort top. More than 5 decades since the abdication and the essence of strength has not...

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“Excuse me, which way is to the bus station?” I asked a heavy built man who was all dressed up in the south Indian attire.” Which way…..to the bus station?” I asked him again. 12 pm in the noon and I was all lost in the streets of an old city of Madras. Old city, I guessed, going by the houses and their...

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It was not before the fall of spring that he realized what he was getting into. Why his nights go insomniac, why he feels a rush of blood every time now, why he fumbles or at times end up eating all the words, why he plays that song again and again, why he couldn't get his classes right anymore. So many whys and...

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Long, long ago. Wait!! Not very long before WhatsApp came into picture, a great user whom all the rest called “THE CREATOR”, created a group, “THE KINGDOM” and added all the contacts of the world. He subsequently passed the group Adminship to his users era after era and the present admin was Prince Of Verona. Years of chat were carried with all the...

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Listen, look at the man over there, “He is mad”, my friend chuckled as he pointed at an old man ,at the steps of a closed shop. Bedraggled clothes, dowdy hair having all the twists and turns that a river would have running down a mountain, overgrown beard  almost hiding his face, bluntly showing his desire to disguise himself, nails grown enough to...

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10 am in the morning and I swayed in the streets along the countryside gandering at everything. Two streets off and I was stuck at the courtyard of a hut. Covered in hay stack it had walls of brick that held it. The wall owned many cracks that smuggled light into and eventually opened in an entrance covered by rugged sheet of cloth....

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                                               (Does the pic say nothing or something!) Nothing!! That’s a strange word. 4 pm at the coffee shop on a Sunday evening, I asked her,” What’s between us?” Nothing”, she whispered while texting to her friend. Nothing!!” How could there...

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“Filthy! Do you even read your work?? What gives the clue that you could be a writer?? “, the publisher threw the paper on my face as he chewed on a few more beetle nut bits.” Next time if you go to a publisher, make sure you have read your filth first”. Filthy work? He calls my work filthy!! “If people like him...

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Caramel jeans torn and bedraggled, his favorite books are half swallowed by mud ants. The bulb that glowed brighter whenever she came was now soiled. The picture frame, brown borders with metallic finish is all rusted and muddied. His desk is now a never ending feast to termites, slowly dying in the darkness. Curtains are stuck to their places. No window has been...

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