The biscuits tasted sweet.
He dearly missed that of ignorance of youth.Youth itself is a mirage!How blissfully it wraps a person into a delusion of power.Makes one feel that they can Understand and Change anything.Everything.After all Everything is either in the in the absolute right or wrong.Black or white.

He popped another biscuit in his mouth.Too sweet.

Things change and the universe forces a person to acknowledge unpleasant things.Makes you admit of all kinds of realities and see that there are no absolute no rights and wrongs.No abrupt ends to stories and People are in the varying shades of gray.

The aftertaste in his mouth was tinged with bitterness.


Spinner’s Smoke

Somehowfb_img_1486058183610 Moth Smoke kept popping up in the back of my head while reading The Spinner’s Tale.

Come to think of it you can actually draw so many parallels between Sufi and Darashikoh.Two middle class kids exposed to the lifestyle of the rich.Both of them extremely dissatisfied with the course their lives take once school gets over.Unable to comprehend (and deep down accept) that their friends have access to better opportunities.And to make make matters worse both of these gents yearned for the women they could not have.

Not saying that they’re the same but found them similar to each other.I guess the thing that separates them were the choices they made; Darashikoh seemed to tread on a path of self destruction whereas Sufi destroyed everything he touched.
What do you guys think?

Spinner’s Smoke



Here I was,

working out the workings

of the universe.

Of constellations far away,

of things that are felt

and feels unsaid.
(I was)
Opening my eyes to newer realms

And then

I was brought to consider,

harsh realities.

Words like motives and needs.

Romanticism came to me

at a wrong instance.

Or may be

reality checks have odd timings.

-Syeda Maham N


A Reflection



The pain somehow swelled in her chest….She had to succumb.Lonliness did come as a bliss


The terrace had November breeze all over it…The sun, tired from bathing the earthners with its blood; settled to sleep.Birds,proud with their loot landed in their nests.The earliest stars were appearing.The sky was indeed a circus, staged by the heavenly bodies. Had it been some other time,her eyes would not miss a single moment of the sun and moon acrobats.But all this commotion of the skies could not parallel to the fire with in her. Her chai wilted under the aged plastic chair,her pedestal.That face,it loomed in her eyes, bullying her.These fault lines will deepen and cripple her for life, that was for sure. Now that the skeptism was almost gone, everything seemed relevant, too vivid….She stood up, burying this epiphany somewheres deep inside her heart…


A tear rolled down her cheek. It wasn’t for him definitely, it was for her wounded pride. 





It’s dark.He can feel the cold creeping onto his flesh.Breath coming out in tiny wisps of smoke.He clutches a brown bag in his hands like a lifeline.

‘Clearly not my day’,he mutters to himself.
His fingers fumble around the packet.He must not lose it.

The room is bright.Too bright.All this music and friendly chatter makes her thoroughly uncomfortable.The flowy dress is not a help either.Everything has a artifial feeling,even the people.

“They don’t deserve to know my distress’,her thoughts are all venomous.Lately.
‘I shouldn’t think about her’,he tells himself for the umpteenth time.His grip on the bag looses for a second.

Footsteps.They are still on his trail,predators playing with their catch.He tries to run.It’s too dark.
‘It’s unusually cold,for early winter’,She drapes her shawl tightly.The evening is over,congratulations pouring from all directions.The platinum band on her finger feels nothing more than an ugly lump of metal.Cold,heartless.Like her.

‘It’s too late to regret’,yet she sighs,drawing curious looks.
She has no regard for these people,not atleast tonight.She’ll kiss up to them tomorrow,when realism will hit her in broad daylight.
‘I have made the right choice’.She keeps assuring herself

Her mind keeps fluttering back to those dark alleys.
Warm blood squirts out of his body.The consistancy surprises him.

‘Check the bag’,it’s the one who opened fire.A muscular piece of work.
The other one searches the contents…
‘Bread’,surprise colours his tone.’He was was stealing food’
‘Pestering vermin’,The muscular one kicks the body.’We’ll report this as an encounter.We shot a criminal’,his eyes shoot a non verbal warning,’You understand this’
‘Yes sir,I do.’

All this seems so distant to him,even surreal.He sees himself slipping away.Her face flips in his mind for the last time.

‘She made the right choice,after all’