Blog, Poems


Shark fin of Meru The sliding snow of Everest When I run short of breath Catching glimpses of the moving sun Face cupped in toasty palms Breaking frost and it’s bite A cold heart goes numb Dimly warmed in recess of memories Climbing. In pursuit, my top of the world

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Blog, Uncategorized

Smells of …

The air smells of burning wood and dry pollen. Smells like wood cooked rice and drying cow dung from the streets. Smells like my village, but in the middle of the high rise. Smells of my childhood, smells I like, smells of my country !!

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