Skip to main content

#BookLover

Image
By

For more hashtag stories, stalk me on - Facebook, Twitter and Instagram



Labels:

Comments

  1. UnknownAugust 8, 2017 at 3:58 AM

    So true! Book-lovers do not need any other thing to get high on.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anita SinghAugust 8, 2017 at 2:43 PM

    100% agree 👍👍

    ReplyDelete
  3. Jyotirmoy SarkarAugust 9, 2017 at 12:38 AM

    Superb one.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ranjana ShankarAugust 9, 2017 at 1:28 PM

    Very true...the "Nasha" of a good book cannot be compared with anything.

    ReplyDelete
  5. ManiparnaAugust 9, 2017 at 6:43 PM

    So very true!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Vishal BheerooAugust 10, 2017 at 8:27 AM

    Woah! Books give such a high. Saru! My expectations of you are very high. When are you coming up with a book?

    ReplyDelete
  7. Rahul BhatiaAugust 11, 2017 at 12:34 AM

    Can never disagree on a high that books give, Saru:)

    ReplyDelete
  8. AbhiAugust 11, 2017 at 12:55 PM

    Amazing! Succinct, short but so true.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Lady FiAugust 13, 2017 at 1:34 AM

    I can relate!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Roma Gupta SinhaAugust 14, 2017 at 2:31 PM

    Aaww, that's incredibly true ❤️ n I know the feeling 😊

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Bricks, brickbats, applause - say it in comments!

Popular posts from this blog

Wailing Woes

By
On her frail shoulders, the threads of Pashmina talk. Of a valley, of heaven, of a moonlit night. Demure, she froze amidst the discordant noise, Charred bodies around her, her flesh and blood died. On moonlit nights, hence she walks barefoot on the snow, Suffering within and out, I can listen, what her silence speaks out loud. Deranged, Demented, She drags her body around, Unaware, Listless, what she has lost can never be found. I call her, whenever she passes by me, I have been piling up sorrows as debris. Come! My child Let me hear your pain, Let me soothe your wounds, Let me jostle your soul, So you shed a tear. I know your pain, I have done all this myself, And I have been there. This poem narrates the sufferings of women who lost their families in Kashmir Valley. *Disclaimer - Title is inspired by  Sonnet 30  of Shakespeare.
150 comments
Read more

Being Human

By
Under the roof of winter, Latches of my door open without making a sound. It's cold out there, Someone lost his ground. My soul shivers, Not that I'm cold. Someone from my land, Sleeps under the bridge while dreaming of gold. How can I... tuck myself in the quilt? When the winter storm is blowing, Hopes they have built. I have to get up, Do something... Before I start questioning who am I? And, they start saying...'Humanity dies.' Let's work out something, Take a resolution. Walk across all kinds of bridges, And, just be human... From centuries people are migrating for work or for better opportunities. But, not everyone has a smooth sailing...some live under miserable conditions. Most heart wrenching fact is nobody helps them, not even people from their own countries. I know, everybody is busy chasing the bigger purpose of life. But don't you think we should help people in need? Let's try to be better human being...
195 comments
Read more

Bits and Pieces

By
I stretch my fingers, But mind says 'No'; Voice of my loved ones, Trails me as an echo. Persuading my heart, To sway away from phone; Keep it down, You live in a different time zone. Different time zone, I fumble in my thoughts. Morning, noon and night; I am out of sorts. It's perfect here, Too perfect for me, Like dead flowers adorned as a potpourri. Drowning in the timeline, Submerging in seven vast oceans. No distance in the world, Can cause this massive erosion. A part of me, my soul, Never left my house courtyard. If ever you want to collect me, my pieces, You know where to start.
221 comments
Read more