The Blue Box
This picture isn’t a piece of art. Nothing about this picture spells fantastic. There’s no composition. No angle. But the way I was feeling when I clicked this deserves a place on my wall. In all ...
6 Years Ago
I forgot to call home
I forgot to call home 5 years back I hopped on a plane from Delhi and came to Mumbai. An only child left her home, adamant and dying to taste an independent life. At the airport, as I hugged my mom, I...
8 Years Ago
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8 Years Ago
Holding on. Letting go.
Holding on. Letting go. I was wondering what to write about when this post below showed up on my Tumblr feed - hitting me smack in the face. (I have also reblogged it. It is the previous post here) I....
8 Years Ago
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8 Years Ago
The Blue Box
mehreenkasana: “ “ For many, their value as a woman is tied up in being a peacemaker, in being a fixer of problems, in being “nice,” even at a cost to themselves. “I’ve done this,” these...
8 Years Ago
