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Day 1/365

  Day 1/365   Stranger Things Finale   Many critics are talking and will be talking about how the last episode of this 5-season series spanning from 2016, culminated and met or did not meet viewers’ expectations. Internet is rife with what could have been done differently, the loopholes with the story line, the loose ends that were not tied. However, what stayed with me was the beauty of optimism and hope, the fact that humans have the potential to fight all odds and then gather strength to build their lives again either from scratch or weaving on to the patches from the past. Has not humanity surpassed hundreds of wars, famines, epidemics and yet stood invincible with the tides of time. The city of Hawkins is a testament to this fact, and the Duffer brothers ensured that life does go on. Yes, there were people who lost their loved ones, who could not bid their final goodbye or lived the lives they imagine. But we as humans have the courage to heal, to pray and ...
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Unfolding 2026... one day at a time

  As a new year resolution, I have decided to write daily about one book/ movie/ documentary or real-life incident that touched me and my life in a meaningful way, which could be a 2-hour Netflix watch or could be an extremely mundane incident that I encountered on my way home in the subway. I am not an expert on movie making or a prolific socialist writer commenting on the issues that overarches the dynamics in the society. My aim of putting pen on paper to my thoughts is to keep alive the habit of storytelling from the ordinary through imperfect and disjointed sentences and fragmented thoughts, at a time when human ingenuity is replaced by AI. Maybe my words may strike a chord of resemblance and familiarity and provide someone with the motivation to read that book, watch that movie or even write that article or simply even belief in the values that make the world go round and hold humanity together in dire times.
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The rose that bloomed

 The rose that bloomed A speck of pink in a bed of green- The solitary bud blooming , Among bushes and twigs, thorns and weeds; That one blossom clinging on to its petals, Standing tall against the pouring rain and the lashing wind. Occasionally would sit a lonely thrush on its branch Singing a melody to the darkness of the night, Or a queen bee will adorn its crown For some nectar sweet and divine. But, it is till it lasts- Till the petals stand the test of time, Maybe a weary poet composes a rhyme, Or a lone musician strikes a chime, Or a forlorn lover reminiscence his time. And then one day, the petals lay On the ground astray. The thrush no longer sings, the music no longer rings- And its essence trampled and trodden Like a tune forgotten. But somewhere it thrives , In the words of a diary jaded Or the folds of a photograph faded. -Devyashree 09.06.2025
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Of illusion and fireflies

Sparkling lights and glistening nights, Like streets lit with fireflies, Starry skies and towering highs, Bedecked, bedazzled for the eyes. But a speck of gray in the crevice, The sight sees but fail to admonish. Shrouded behind the glitz and glamour, A city cold and weary with the winter. Like the faces that hide beneath Layers of social mask, the souls that breathe, Behind the cheery eyes and the twisted smiles, Playing peekaboo with life Lies shades of concealed despair Camouflaged by the faces fair. A pang of melancholy, a flair of gloom Like the ice-cold wind bringing doom. You see the trees covered with lights, But they have shed their leaves golden and bright.   -Devyashree 18.12.2024
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  October they say is not a season, but a feeling. It may mean different to different souls. In the western world, maybe October rings a bell for the advent of fall, streets laden with golden leaves and a cold breeze . However for me October always resonated with Durga Puja, the sense of festivity in the air, a slight nip in the breeze and the fragrance of ‘sewali’ in the night air. It is to this day, whenever I encounter the sweet smell of ‘sewali’ , it takes me on a nostalgic ride to the “sewali”tree blooming in the frontyard of my home in my little town - the innumerable pandal hopping, 90’s songs blazing on the loudspeakers, the continuous clanking of horns and plastic trumpet, and people making their way amidst the chaos and crowd,     decked up in their best attire- pretty maidens, howling kids, colourful stalls and honking cars, all somehow creating a melange of sorts that still vividly paints a picture in my mind, as I hear and feel “ OCTOBER”. But “ October “ als...
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TRAVELLER TALES : MECHUKA: CHAPTER 1

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  Menchuka- Paradise unexplored   Lush green valley, a gurgling stream, cascades of green hills with snow peaked mountains playing peeka-a-boo, among the clouds, does not it seem like the perfect definition of a hill station. Well , Menchuka is all this and much more. It seems like a place right out of the postcard or of the fairy tale. However, it is rightly said that all good things come at a price, and the journey to Menchuka is one hell of a ride through never ending winding terrains. Nestled in the north eastern most part of India, lies the small town of Menchuka, also called as Mechuka in the state of Arunachal Pradesh, which happens to be the last town near the Indo-Tibet border with LOC within a distance of 30 kms from there. Menchuka, the name is derived from three words-  'Men' means Medicine, 'Chu' means Water -streams, rivers, etc. & 'Kha' means Snow; Meaning "the land blessed with medicinal snow-fed water- river & streams"....
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THE STRANGER

  The stranger…… We all know of a stranger becoming a friend.. But what when a friend becomes a stranger. We turn back the tides of time, Or walk backwards the steps we took, To bridge the distance between hearts- That now stands apart. We undo the promises we swore   Or un-share the secrets we told. The look in the eyes , or the smile in the lips,   That once unraveled the world, We go past by as if now it holds no worth. You know you still talk, you still greet You still meet, But never like before. For you have made walls, high enough That mars the bond you shared, The friendship you cared, Maybe it took a moment, or days or months- But you have already bottled up All the feelings and emotions you bore And floated it far ashore, And then when you see him , Maybe after days , months or years, Although your eyes want to well up with tears, All you do care is that a stranger lies in front of you there.
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