My story is simple, and ordinary. At every step, I acted for my Lord. Yes, even before I was born as Bajrang.
When Navratri is celebrated, Seasons are in the midst of change And Nature is renewing itself. There is magic in the air – truly, As the seasons are switching turns, And the phenomenon of Ritu Sandhi unfolds. When Navratri is celebrated, Vivid rituals are alive in the air. The southern end of India bursts into…
They woke up, yawning and tumbling gently out of their beds. Both had to be coaxed by their parents. An open marble floor and fields were what their eyes saw… A crisp uniform and old brown shoes. One walked into a waiting car that honked ever so lightly – hurry up, we’ll be late. Waving…
I wander through the crowds,
Tip toeing ahead,
Sometimes on the shore.
I might lose sight of you – but I am there, always – I promise.