You know those lazy mornings? The ones when you’re bludgeoning to go, energized with the plan for the day; yet think to stay a couple of hours… Read more “We Don’t Know”
But she was adamant. Adamant for not becoming a granny who whines about life offered her lemons when she sought peaches. Those tanned pages of every book she’d read in past on meticulous struggle, uncountable sacrifices on the path to glory and the will to adhere in every given circumstance kept her alive.
Adira wanted to be Adira.
Her parents were bursting magnanimously on her for choosing cricket as a career option till yesterday but today morning, they wore layers of insecurities than the usual fury. Cluelessness did to them what a steady and determined spirit did to her: minds were blown but in opposite directions.
One more time…
Poets were weaving magic with lexicons that were the delirium of the streets; writers rekindling the same. “There is something wrong”, a boy with a baffled expression on his face quipped from the ghetto of lovers of all sorts…
Livers bottled up with ethanol, lungs bloated with tobacco; could never set the fire in you albeit both are classy fuels.
We see them in girls squatting whilst forming the greatest possible angles at hamstrings, in boys who shave their legs and mavericks who chant loudly. We call them crazy/lunatic/indecent and trash them off.