Skip to main content


Eight minutes.
I deserved eight minutes of his time.
A two day train journey and two hours of bumpy ride.
All this just to tell him “Hi! I still do”.
He was polite. Of the three hours I spent at his lobby, the girl offered me coffee thrice.
He said he was tired. He thinks differently. Our lives are different.
Children grow up. They will anyway.
He did not say but I guess broken hearts mend too. 

P.S. : This post was conceived and typed in 8 minutes.
Hence the title. No relation with "Eleven Minutes" by Paulo Coelho. 


sawan said…
thats emotions described short and stable! :) good one Anw!
Anwesa said…
Thanks Anil ! Glad to see you around.
Rià said…
Short and yet so deep...well done dearie!
Karan said…
Crisp and within the timelimit :)
Very well put...

Popular posts from this blog


I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Double lives

Mobile phone. Check.
Tickets. Check.
Sunglasses. Check.
Heart. Uncheck.

Tears. Check.
Pain. Check.
His memories. Check.
Kiss of love. Uncheck.

No meetings. Check.
Wet pillows. Check.
Lies. Check.
Hi Honey ! Uncheck.

Start. End. Repeat.