The estranged daughter

“Really? You write in Malayalam? But why? How?” Many a times I have been asked this question and sadly, I still fail to give a concrete answer. The truth is, at times, I’m drawn into this inexplicable urge of writing in Malayalam. The obscure pleasure I get when I breath life into words and those words…

Confessions of a red rose

I get drunk on the showers, And sway in the cold breeze, But know that, its your presence That I wait for everyday Oh do not be sulky I stay tightly curled Weary of strange hands, And walled by callous thorns, For its on your care, that I unfurl And your love that I spread…