Skip to main content

Sand on the Seashore

Sitting on a park bench in the noon
In a pensive mood with her mind in a swoon
Like a grain of sand on the seashore
Feeling trapped in a cage with no door

A deep melancholy etched plainly on the face
She was slumped in defeat staring at empty space
Only a tiny moan escaped her quivering lips pale
But those expressive eyes told many a tale

Heaps of men and women who were passing by
Scarcely glanced at her and walked away
The whole world was moving on
When she really needed a shoulder to cry upon

As the colors of dusk heralded the night
She steeled herself with all her might
With long brisk strides she hurried forward
And soon she was enveloped by the darkness ahead

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What you see is what you get

Back in my childhood days in the eighties, Television was a luxury only the rich could afford. Good quality TVs were generally imported from Singapore which was the electronics haven in those days. Singapore flight passengers could be seen, surrounded by a minimum of 4-5 huge boxes, standing in long queues to clear customs at the airport. There were also the Desi brands – the Dyanoras and the Solidaires that were owned by people who couldn’t afford a trip to Singapore to get a international brand TV. In my small hometown, there were only two TVs for the entire neighborhood and the Indian government controlled Doordarshan was the emperor of the TV world. TV antennas would literally reach the sky. We would be especially friendly with the kids from these houses in order to wheedle an invitation to watch some TV. Returning home from school, I would dump my school bag on the bed, quickly change out of the school uniform, drink the dreaded milk and gathering all other friends, run to meet my

Glimpses from my whirlwind 90-day sabbatical travels

  One of the best policies that my company offers is a 3-month paid sabbatical on completing 10 years. I had toyed with many ideas on how to spend these hard earned 3 months – write a book, upskill myself, find a hobby outside work, do a personal project but none of these excited me as much as traveling did. The idea of going backpacking through Europe without too much planning and experiencing each city like a local was something that I had only read about. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would do it myself one day. After many false starts and stops due to work and personal priorities, I finally applied to take my sabbatical in May 2020. I made up my mind to try backpacking but with a slight (or rather a big) twist – something that I would feel comfortable doing solo. The plan was to choose solo traveler friendly places to visit, decide how many days to spend in each place, book accommodation and leave the local sightseeing open. I created a 6-week itinerary that woul

Harassed by the Traffic Inspector

Around a week back, my friend and I had a strange encounter with the traffic police. It would have been almost funny had it not been for the Policeman’s serious disregard for the welfare of the commuters. It was around 8 pm in the evening, a busy day, as is the case on all weekdays, with lots of traffic. I was driving back home from work. A friend was with me and we had just passed Krumbigal Road when we were asked to pull over by the Traffic police at the junction of Krumbigal Road and RV Road. This junction – Siddaiah Circle/Lalbagh West Gate circle does not have traffic lights and there is a traffic police regulating traffic. When I was asked to pull over, I thought it was for a routine check of my driver’s license, car insurance and other documents. The traffic inspector’s assistant asked to look at my license and when I gave it to him, he asked me to get down and talk to the traffic inspector. When I walked over to talk to him, he asked me, without any preamble, if I would pay