Stories out of my reach

Stories out of my reach. Too many, too soon. ∞ I chase them. In sleepy mornings. Or tireless afternoons. ∞ Holding a pen, I write ferociously. Thoughts that float like ideas. Beholden forever in my limbic. But lost in the passing second. ∞ These are memories from my past. As trajectories for my writing. Governing…

Stars in the water, stars in the sky

In search for the brightest one I used to believe in heavenly skies, with their stars and constellations, for me to gaze. I used to crave to sleep under their watchful eyes, as my grandmother would deck up the courtyard with charpoys. Once by her side, I would describe to her what I saw in…

The love of being away

Personal archive. Hong Kong. The whistling winds by my window, the smoothness of their ice. The greying of those structures around me, through the darkening of the skies. They speak to me freedom. Speak to me life. It is lonely, as my heart lies away. It is lonely, only in a good way. But the air…

Demons in my wardrobe

There are demons. Hiding inside my wardrobe. Within layers of full legged jeans, jeering through its rips and tears. Gaping through the deeper necks and cuts of my shirts. Popping out from those sleeveless blouses, glaring those mini skirts. Quietly showing their faces through the slits of my dresses, sliming out onto my thighs. They…

We are the girls who dare.

We are the girls who dare. We pout, we shout. We scream, we dream. We are the girls who stand out. We laugh, we swear. We mute, we blare. We are the girls who refuse to sit and stare. We study, we play. We run, we slay. We are the girls who know the word…

The Window With A View

It’s 11 am and I’m munching some banana muesli, thinking what to write. And I see through my room’s window, the view that I have always admired, looks right back at me. My room in my grad school accommodation, overlooks a tiny hilly backyard. Not much like flowers in a garden, more like the beginning…

When there’s nothing to write

I could not pick anything to write today. There were fleeting thoughts and restless memories, but nothing subtle enough to play 200 odd words around it. So instead, I’ll list down a potential to do write ups and meetings that will inspire a few narratives and stories to think about. The first, meeting with a…

Kindness

I am a journey to the moon, and a journey to the sky. I think deep into my senses as winds glide by. I storm through my past and I glide through my future. I listen to each tale of my beloved, and the murmur of every creature. I miss the chasm of the sun…

It is soft.

It is soft. Soft as the melody of a cuckoo’s song from the mango orchards in summer. Soft as the meshed earth after a sudden monsoon shower. Soft as the whispered delight of the ruffled leaves at nightfall. Soft as the whimsy clouds with the scorched sun, playing beck & call. Soft as a hidden…

The Lost Earring

The Lost Earring I have the love of a lost earring. A love that gives endless hope of finding back the beautiful lost. Finding too late perhaps for the one I save is gone. It is gone to fetch the memory of the beauty I owned. The beauty which was never mine to hold but…