Showing posts from June, 2012

तुम बिन

चिराग लेके मैंने ढूँढा ,  चौखट चौबारा! निगोड़ी रात में फिर  अपने हाथ पे लिखा नाम तुम्हारा!! जब तुम जाते हो ,  कुछ रोज के लिए   बाहर , तुम्हारे पीछे पीछे  ये मन भी हो जाता है बंजारा! अकेली रातो में फिर,  अपने हाथ पे नाम लिखती हूँ तुम्हारा!! सुध बुध खो कर,   बैठती हूँ उस कोने में, चाय की प्याली के संग,   तुम्हारी यादें बनती है मेरा   सहारा! तनहा   रातो में फिर,   अपने हाथ पे नाम लिखती हूँ तुम्हारा!! चिराग लेके ढूँढती हूँ,  चौखट चौबारा! निगोड़ी रात में फिर, अपने हाथ पे नाम लिखती हूँ तुम्हारा!! ~सरू सिंघल~

I'm Old!

Last week I completed a year in Blogosphere. Though it’s a great feeling but I would love to be a newbie again, it was so much fun. Now I am old, a year old here. Expectations have increased manifolds, there is less scope for mistakes and no pampering.  Last year was one of the best in my life -   I was interviewed ,   given awards ,   won a contest ,   called for a discussion on a TV Channel ,   Editors featured my posts .   It was a learning experience for me, I evolved with every writing. I didn’t take the criticism to my heart or the appreciation to my head. I imbibed everything in my art and tried to become a better author. I took this journey with a mission to reach out to my audience and touch their hearts with creativity. I’m glad with the response I received from all of you. It has been a humbling experience. Thank you for being a part of my life! I aspire to take my work to the next level in the coming year, starting with   “Rousing Cadence,”   which is releasin

Mont Blanc And A Sip Of Wine

Alissa Milford stepped in the living room to arrange some fresh flowers in the vase; though nobody was visiting her but she liked everything in a particular fashion. She lived alone and managed her life really well; she kept herself occupied with work, reading and gardening. Intrigued by a single lady living alone in a big house, her elderly neighbour started observing her. As Alissa sat down on the steps of her house on a sultry summer day, Mr Caffery moved away from the window so she couldn’t spot him. As an old man who was new to this neighbourhood, he was certainly looking for excitement but not trouble. He opened the bottle of Merlot and poured himself some wine. Unaware of her neighbour’s curiosity, Alissa spent the entire evening sitting outside. Mr Caffery secretly observed her. For Mr Caffery, she was a little strange, her movements properly scheduled and her life unbelievingly systematic. But she was also someone who occupied this retired man’s life in this new neighbo