Monday, November 01, 2010


That sensuous smile sat naturally on her face, an ocean of compassion. His melancholic soul erupted with joy for he was slowly freeing it from his clutches of memories caged in pages. There was no pride in it though. For, the writer in him merely wrote verses. Without any affection or self admiration. For he had that heart of humility. Strung to the soul.

That same heart of humility hung around her neck like a pearl necklace. And her charismatic soul was strung together like colorful beads from ancient beaches. 



"A kiss can make a man immortal. I may die, decay. A kiss will etch me in eternity. I will dwell in the dust of this book shop till they shut it down. Then, I will hang on to the badam tree. If they knock it down, I will take a walk and sleep my nights on the sands of the beach, chasing my dreams of you, amidst a trillion stars. Forever. 


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Stories From The Soul Town

There lies a magical land. Surrounded by the green ghats to the west, gurgling great rivers on the east, the valley with the very blue sky. A temple town of the tamils. Sitting on the dancing rock on the highland overlooking the valley, the writer procreates the lives of the people of this lesser known south west. Full of strange yet simple souls.