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The Shutter Story

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A photograph is just a moment captured. It is alive in its stillness. Be it a place, a person, an emotion or an event, a photograph is the only way to cling on to it, physically or otherwise.

Our friend who furnishes photographs for our articles is, by profession, a wedding photographer. But as any creative space cannot be constricted within the confines of common understanding, so is hers too. Her shared album of photographs is an alluring array of instants that exhibit existence in its entirety.

It was on a leisurely evening as I was going through her album, I perceived, almost impetuously, the potency and the promise of a photograph. What is a photograph? Just a moment captured. A tick thought beautiful and worthy by the photographer and turned into truth. The little while, as a matter of fact, exists only through the photograph. The link to the past and the license to the future. A medium that enables you to travel through time.


Take a look at this photograph. It encapsulates the …

The Waltzing Words!

I just stop by... not questioning why...
An esthesis in this air I breathe...
Teasing my senses deep... Or screaming whispers from the past... A plead to keep...

Echoes from a place ... I know not where...
I don't recognize them... and yet something we share...
They make me smile... They make me quiver...
Like tunes of an unknown song... But a melody I knew forever...

Embracing me... Only to drift away again...
Like a bounty souvenir... too immense for me to contain...

I watch these thoughts until they trail into the dusk...
And there was something pulling me back... I hear these chirps...
Of emotions and words waiting for me to pick them up...

I smile to myself... A thought crosses my mind... The divine is kind...
Coz being cognizant of words ... Was probably God's way...
And as I chain them together...
I realize thatz the only way I make some thoughts and people stay...!!


© Quotidian Tales

Durga’s Homecoming

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A new journey begins for a new Durga designated to vanquish the new Asura, more appropriately, Asuras.


After a precious interim of ten months, my little Durga was coming home. The joy was immense as was my anticipated relief. Through all my years, I never missed the opportunity of being in the proximity of the unique festival, the Durga Puja. Its exuberance overwhelms me every year and I respond to it ecstatically. But that year, it didn't even seem that the celebrations were going on. It didn't depress me though, for once, as I lay in bed away from the festivities that fostered the Feminine Energy of existence.

Such was her captivity. No lesser than the one Maa Durga exercises on her devotees, I pondered. I could feel her twisting and jabbing in my belly. Little could we wait to see each other.

According to Hindu mythology, Durga is created by the Gods to slay the evil demon, Mahishasura. She was born with astounding beauty and power, empowered by the collective strength and …