Broken hands

Don’t you believe, we are stuck in this room. You have a red box at the corner, and I have a blue one on the other side. We meet once in a while, to talk about our sorrowful lives and shames, in disguise. Our hands, worn out wrists too brittle now even our eyes don’t meet. What have…

The lamppost

(Sketch: The secret by Deepak Rawat) It’s nice to see you again, How’s your life been? You remember this lamppost and our promise!! God, how foolish we had been. I guess the stars have changed!! I don’t see them smirking, like the way they used to do. Maybe this road too has forgotten us; since we didn’t meet, like…