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aditya b
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Jonathan Livingston Seagull is the world's edge
I remember when I picked Jonathan Livingston Seagull for the first time. It was long ago. A thin, square-sized book that it was, with every sentence Richard Bach had me to the skin. It was as if the time had frozen. Although I was too young, I could gather ...

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Micro Story
The bud grew day by day, blooming into a full rose, witnessing the high of the skies, the wanderlust of the clouds. The itinerant wind frequently tossed the weight of its characteristic nonchalance upon her, making her envious and thoughtful. And the stunte...

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I write emotions
It was quite long time back, one summer of my juvenile years, when I wrote my first poem. It was on the drying leaf of a small poplar tree that stood in the garden of my house. I do not remember what I wrote, for I had no inkling by then that I would prefer...

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At Dusk
At dusk the tale starts, Light recedes from around, I feel ajar. Pour out of me an invisible dream, A verse too old, a melody; I lose all flesh, radiate; Whatever remains, escapes, Along a river stream, I stroll. The moon emerges, Proves again its showmansh...

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100 words - Fall
Auburn mesh of mellowing leaves and a shade  Of mild sun in the sky, isn’t the world shying up for a long quiet?  Slow arrival of the dawn, its brisk departure into evenings, I embrace  The night with an intense warmth now.  Stars seem to photodegrade, thei...

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I will remember
This day metro isn’t so crowded and I get a seat toward the end of the coach. Two stoppages later a family boards the train. They have a couple of luggage bags. I vacate the seat for them. The woman reluctantly contemplates taking the seat as I insist. Men ...

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Grow a heart
For the last few years, the only question that has visited me day and night with an intensity no candela can measure is how to be a writer. The answer eludes me even now. I know it is not in the books. I know it is not in the writing programs; neither in wo...

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The Nuance of a Story
Sometimes, late awake, staring out of the window, sitting at the study table, in a relatively quiet universe I think about the different times. Curls of wisps of smoke slowly float ahead and then up and finally vanish into some other form. The cigarette run...

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February 7, 2015
Elections in Delhi are near. No wonder, the political temperature is rising by degrees. Each contesting party is trying too hard to convince the voters. The most prominent party in the gone years, Congress, now is completely out of the big picture. To recal...
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