A woman’s pen must be sheepishly compliant, subjugated and enslaved. She must duck and dive when it comes to writing Junoesque, voluptuous words. She must never bare them by putting her hard-earned dignity at stake and never ever ever use blood-red ink because in her untold herstory the gender of her words is invariably feminine.Continue reading “a feminine pen”
Author Archives: Smita Ray
reading…
Things take turn for better or for worse but reading always brings its own rewards. You don’t just write stories and dramas, you learn and grow with it and it grows on you. You learn to be grateful for small mercies yet you don’t take things lying down. You don’t get carried away by thingsContinue reading “reading…”
infatuation
inevitable
The unheralded sojourn of blooms and silky pollen dust, the accomplice, ever so often tugging along with your thoughts, tiptoed from beckoning byways of a distant past and moved to my quiet forsaken nights. Life had issued an edict ordering your permanent tenancy in my heart. A hushed song poking through blossoming bougainvillaea hanging acrossContinue reading “inevitable”
homecoming
Fall is unduly tanned and it goes against the grain to truss up its bronzed limbs when they wiggle gracefully in an easy-breezy manner as though seasons have a skinful, gliding in the crisp, parched air, rampaging past me, stumbling and scrambling up to their homes. Photo courtesy: Pinterest
his grace
The spectacle of unseemly fuchsia gowns obversely thawing in soft pastel towns And that scraggly-beard looking for sex Who tagged me in his post to vex, slaving to put a hex While I am having my nose in books And give it a dirty look Placidly putting my feet up Filling my idyllic cup TheseContinue reading “his grace”
together
Our gaze meshed and hearts bounded up together in harmony, Yawning days, plodding their ways left behind the hegemony of gust that thumped and slashed.
photo race
Social media An eternally comical place Photo race
little girl, do you see?
Little girl do you see? How your diamond eyes still hold galaxies, Oh, you have grown up an effervescent river Concealing gazillions of their ilk in your arabesque layers! ❤
metaphors
Behind those lush pastures where our child flesh pasted to adult bones never wanes. There’s a house riddled with numberless examinations and tests. Yesterday, when my mother told me that relationship is metaphoric to love, I twigged… Why she felt like a sky. Endless, vast and eternal, festooned with clouds of all colours, of candyContinue reading “metaphors”
