Bartender by the sea.

I used to work at a Beach Resort, was the bartender by their beach-side bar. That was a really good job. I mean the view from the counter, the beautiful ladies in their sensuous swimwear blowing off their steam and drinking to their hearts content, the over drunk men with their senseless glorifying stories of …

Continue reading Bartender by the sea.

#28 Rusted Ink

I start with the desk and there are quite a lot of things lying here and there. There is this bottle of ink from Chelpark that hasn’t been used for ages, accompanied by a few Hero fountain pens competing alongside the only Parker I have. There was a Waterman somewhere there but I cannot find it now. I pull up my drawer and stash them back in it when my gaze fell upon that diary. I paused for a moment and pulled it out form the drawer. It was a year old and was filled with all the scribbles and notes I had taken while experiment with my madness.

#18 Fear

Fear. We are bound by it. Its rules. A domain we have tried to capture over the decades but in vain. I have fear. We all have. We are born with it. We are inherent to it. We are a consequence of it. A culmination of all the fears blended and bottled in this unique, one of a kind mixture. There is the fear of sparks. When we plug in something to a love socket. We sometimes visualize ourselves falling prey to the sparks that fly out occasionally, interacting with our innocent hands, fiddling with it before throwing it onto the nearby wall along with us.