Like the last few labored breaths
Of a dying flower
Whose scent may travel far
With the wind
Comes to me the scent
Of your last words
As they resound in the
The fine sands of history
Hello, and thanks a ton for stopping by! Here you'll find the ramblings of a girl err...woman left uninterrupted, or a woman left to her own devices! It's in such moments of uninterrupted ecstasy I find myself, far, far away from the madding crowd, where an Oak tree, shepherds me. ;)
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
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I've moved to Medium
If you came here looking for me, thank you. I am humbled and delighted. 😚 I now blog in Medium. You are welcome to read my stories there ....
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It feels like am almost on the verge of treading the beaten track, what with no blog posts for almost a year, and what’s the only reas...
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A few years ago, I overheard a couple of feminist friends talking about surrogacy and the need for a more nuanced debate in India, and how a...
1 comment:
languid imagery - slow and gripping
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