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

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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...

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Emma – book review

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