The Epidemic Of e Every morning The newspaper rocketed into the balcony. Pages were read, rustled and turned By my father in silence, seeking enlightenment About the world without. I was enamoured by the twitter of birds Wondering what they were conversing about. Today, the e-paper has no smell of ink It cannot be touched or, turned or, rustled. Twitter is more screeches, shrieks and squawks Producing a prodigiously perfect storm In the teacup every day, By a non-avian population termed Tweeple. The prolonged shout of “post “ Making my heart pound as I rushed to tear open Your long-awaited letter with a heart-warming 'Dearest' I replied instantly… Rushing to the post-office Standing in queue, exchanging pleasantries with strangers While waiting to buy a stamp. Talking of stamps, I’ve preserved All the postcards from around the world Arriving with the postman’s smile. It’s been forever since I received a term of endearment When a notification pops u
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All My Views (Un)Fit To Print
Observer of, and listening to all things moving and still... a stopper of time. A doctorate from the School of Hard Knocks at the University of Life sharing experiences, perspectives and lessons learnt as film maker, theatre practitioner and parent.