Symphony of Silence

Symphony of Silence

I have observed silence from close and far. I have embraced it. I have fought with its shadow.  I have listened to its harsh and mushy sounds. Then I have written five short stories.

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♦ On a sunny day, the ocean is fierce, and people on the beach, fiercer. They hug the water like long lost friends, jump into each other out of joy, play for hours, and cook steaks to celebrate the togetherness. She watches them all from a distance, and notes down her observations on her little pink book. Isn’t everything a story from far? Continue reading “Symphony of Silence”

Blank pages

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“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” ― Dr. Seuss

Writing is not a daily habit of mine. Words come and go. Sometimes I make notes. Sometimes I let them go. Sometimes I write spontaneously. 

Don’t write bad memories, they say. So on my not so good days, I hardly write. On my good days, I sip watermelon juice and observe the outside world. I shop, cook, dine, listen to a friend, and read about other people on different books. I celebrate. That way. Continue reading “Blank pages”

That bird in her safe haven

Bird in Pfeiffer

“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” – When Women Were Birds

In a world where we are almost always losing originality, I take breaks to go to nature where other living beings are happily being themselves. Birds are not trying to be redwoods and redwoods are not turning to hummingbirds.  Continue reading “That bird in her safe haven”

Mother’s Day

Mother's day

There’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.” ― Mitch Albom

I never celebrated Mother’s day. I never said to my mom how much I loved her. See we don’t talk love. We don’t express it in words. But ask me or her this question about our mutual love and understanding, we both can bring back a million memories and hours for the answer. Continue reading “Mother’s Day”

Vermilion

Vermilion

Our neighbor, tall and smiling and generous, the
wife of one and mother of three, is sick. I did not
know it until I saw her in the garden, plucking
white jasmines for all gods she kept in her shrine,
beside that her long hair was short, and her skin
pale as yesterday’s old flowers, her forehead
without the big round vermilion dot. Nothing unusual
in her voice when she, in her regular cheerful tone,
asked me to visit for lunch. Continue reading “Vermilion”

Silicon Valley and Sourdough

SFO

Someone once asked me if the valley was made of Silicon or silicone.
Not really. The valley is made of ideas, ideas that change the world. Change that grows on us.
Sometimes the world wants to look large on a small browser window, then it happily shrinks within mobile applications. Keyboards go virtual. People make friendship with each other without real meetings. People create their versions on different platforms to find like-minded acquaintances. On road one day I find self-driving cars within a few feet. Continue reading “Silicon Valley and Sourdough”