A young woman stepping into a heart shape etched out on white sand


To love you,

Do I need to know

All of you,

Or just the heart of you?

Grey photo shot from the back of a woman's back and lowered head

The Heaviest Thing

One tiny entity.

So much responsibility.

It has to relieve you of heartbreak.

It has to bear the load of your failure.


It has to expunge you of your fears.

It has to make your heart lighter.

Your mind too.

A teardrop really has to be the heaviest thing in the universe.

Close-up of a digital alarm clock, shrouded in the dark, about to strike 5

Villain No. 1

Monday gets it hard from us. Abuses. Rants. Wishes of killing it if it were a person. Ok, it’s not all bad – there are the memes, you know.

But there’s something that gets it worse from us than Monday. That too, every day. Ok, perhaps not the weekend days. The alarm clock. It gets slammed, bammed and occasionally, even hurled (even in its smartphone avatar), with no thank you ma’m / Sam for doing its job.

Just think of it. Monday gets hated just one day a week. The alarm clock, five or six times that. Man, it might actually be envying Monday. There, Monday, you found your bright side.

A couple of toast slices just having popped out from a toaster

Jottings | Nice and Warm

Thak! The toasts pop out. I clench the spring tongs and pull out one and place it on the plate. I proceed to pull out the other. The second slips from the tongs and falls back into the toaster, settling back in just the way I had placed the raw slice. It must like the warmth in there. After all, it’s winter.

Illustration of a male jogger stepping out the door with an oversized brain chained to his foot

Jogging Through My Mind

Regular brisk-walker / jogger

“Damn. I can just run clockwise or anti-clockwise. I should just go back to the roads…”

Female brisk-walker / jogger

“Damn. I run with the crowd, they see my swaying ass. I run against them, they see my bouncing boobs. I should have worn something loose…”

Male brisk-walker / jogger

“Eww. I run with the uncles, I see bulging moobs. I run against them, I see lardy asses. Thank god for the odd female…”