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Rucha Bindu

I may not always feel and talk, and listen and feel, but I always feel and write, and read and feel.
Passing by the cemetery on a day, content and whole My heart wonders if what it sees is Merely a cross over the caged bodies; Or wings of liberty spread by the freed soul...   read more...
12-Nov-2017 • 134 views
That moment when your maid's ringtone is cooler than yours...  read more...
13-Nov-2017 • 132 views
Poems
» Long
There she was, dressed immaculately, unvaryingly seated in the first row With trembling, old fingers holding her favourite pen touching a blank page of her illegible manuscript. A man with the badge gave her a familiar glance but little did she know; Because only when the bibliophile’s ears... read more...
07-Feb-2018 • 142 views
Before trying to convince someone of something, make sure that it convinces you first. read more...
28-Feb-2018 • 119 views
Her
She loved fashion, but in her own fashion. She didn't believe in tight pants But in baggy night pants. She didn't admire light and glamour, But quick wit and humour. Because all the things that touched her heart Had nothing to do with looks. She loved the fragrance... read more...
08-Mar-2018 • 102 views
Poetry is to literature As salt is to food! read more...
21-Mar-2018 • 116 views
What is it like to have a younger sibling? I feel younger siblings were created to take you seriously when you're joking and to joke when you're serious. They were created to irritate every nerve in your body, and to bring you water in bed while you trade... read more...
24-Apr-2018 • 111 views
Let's sit in a park and sing our heart out. Let's make music that lures the childlike spirit of passers by. Let's rhyme to the sound of chirping birds and dance to the tune of applause.  Let's do what we're here for, let's... read more...
07-Jun-2019 • 126 views

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