Live Like A Stoic
Better to trip with feet than with the tongue, Better be doing all of what you preach, Tales of deeds for centuries are sung, Guiding
a coven of creative characters
Better to trip with feet than with the tongue, Better be doing all of what you preach, Tales of deeds for centuries are sung, Guiding
Ubiquitously loafed tickling and tingling In tranquility and salvation at ease A gratuitous soul,bouncing An inherent reckless breeze No place to dwell wandered unfettered. Elusive
To Thee I owe this promising new dayHe, who absolved me of my flaws; my sinsMy hand He held, and showed me a new wayThe
“21 days,” counted Indu. “21 days until he returns.” And yet she knew it wouldn’t feel like that much. It would stretch on, like a
Oh! What beauty I see My vision exhilarates at the sights The lush green amidst the pine tree Mountain engulfed in sheets of whites The
As Mohit came down for the breakfast, he noticed his father had already left for the office. “Mom, why did papa leave so early today?”He
Rummaging through the strewn faded pages Of jumbled life, with waning sanity Every day a struggle, to recall names and faces, Often lost in familiar
21st is always a painful day. I remember her. But I don’t want to. So I go back to my best friend, nicotine. I snuck
Will we learn what is on the other side? What awaits us when we leave this world? Will I land up in underworld with a
“It is not a natural death nor is it the last.” The investigating officer paced his horizontal office in quest of a vertical solution. “Six
“Mom, did you say Grandpa was a cryptologist for the Indian army?” asked Deepak. “Do you even know what that means?” asked his mom Meera.
“21 children. 21 chances. One miss and you’re gone.” Rajesh cursed that moment when he had encountered Shirley. For prompt money he had readily agreed
“Panditji, Panditji…” A knock at the door and frantic calls alerted Panditji. He peeped and found Dinkar Babu’s son knocking. “What happened Amit, is everything
As my wanderlust ink runs wild to kiss The ruffling parchment waiting to embrace The words do spill never a chance to miss To win
“Prisoner number 441. The warden has summoned you.” As I walk out of my cell, my cellmates look on sympathetically. To be summoned to the
For the body that enters in Cape, Sigh the two souls, Another day and a narrow escape, As a pearl from eyes rolls. The sniffles
Such a bewildering prompt, can I write? Let me think and jot down my ideas abound. You can see, I’m no exceptional wright. When I
The rope gave jittery tremors as if anxious of Chutki’s dancing endeavours. The idle minds watching her feat prayed to the cross for her safety
Should not one learn to ride the rippling waves? Keep one’s poise in storm and silence. It thunders, rumbles, and roars like a beast, But