Will of a marginal writer

By Sunil Sharma   When I die, erase all the memories as I do not wish to linger on in few digital pictures stored in a Smartphone moments, moods, posed smiles of no immediate or historical worth, social value  or public  relevance to family or friend or foes; I wish to be forgotten and obliterated … Continue reading Will of a marginal writer

“A grass widower/lover writes”

By Sunil Sharma   Even in your long absence--- I hear daily your musical voice! The multi-coloured jingle of the bangles And the silver anklets Your laughter lingers On summer nights. I smell the perfume you wear To your work daily. As I drift finally Into the land of beautiful gentle sleep After a long … Continue reading “A grass widower/lover writes”

“Madhouse”

By Sunil Sharma   In a madhouse, the only sane are the insane the guys know/see things the normal are denied If there were no insane folks, how the world would measure its own diminishing sanity? The institutionalized soul was meditative: Why the mad politicians/terror-mongers outside?   Sunil Sharma is a college principal, freelance journalist, author and … Continue reading “Madhouse”

A rose and waste picker

By Sunil Sharma   A rose blooms on a dump in Delhi It sways in the morning wind the way drunk girls sway and swear on the predatory Indian streets and restricted cultural zones to express happiness and freedom from stifling familial and patriarchal constraints In Mumbai and other metros on long Saturday nights. The morning light plays on the petals and … Continue reading A rose and waste picker