Ghost of My Father

Don't read only or like please comment on this poem of mine a take on daily life. November month it is; no shaving month. The noble cause has hidden long ago beyond gimmick. I remain clean shaven; no moustache no beard, But, this year I thought to be unshaven. Yes, I grown a beard, but, … Continue reading Ghost of My Father



<!--more--> When the dew will be there on the blade of grasses Where will we stand-- We means me and you in my age old memories. Sometimes I search you because it seems You're a mere imagination of mine and nothing else. But, when the breeze brushes over the dried wet soil of soul Revealing … Continue reading Where