The Voices

It's drifting, it's floating

over the lakes, under the trees

It has watched the annual games

of the sun, rain and the breeze

You swear you haven't seen

you bet you never knew

Though in your cradle it had been

and now in your room it stays too

As a child it kept you up

with your cries it even grew

Now it hovers o'er your children

any time, out of the blue

It is timeless, it is faceless

yet it's common to every human born

It is in each home, in each lawn

and it's here to live on

It was once left by a body

much like a sigh

Now it plays with every soul

that happens to stop by

It is a trace, it is a footprint

it is a proof for tales untold

It is the voice of every living thing

every human being, young and old

Yes, it is the very voices

that left now-dead visages

It is no wonder those with the strongest

are the ones remembered for ages...

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Cent-imental & Grateful!

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Clara Winslow's Favourite Song

'Clara Winslow wins song of the year at Grammy Awards 2025', read the headline. She made it , I thought to myself before letting the overwhelming flood of memories take over. I was interning at a music summer camp when I first met Clara Winslow, a frail girl with freckled cheeks, long bronze hair and eyes so expressive they almost appeared animated. When I assigned the kids their first activity of the summer, I vividly recall how Clara's eyes lit up. 'Listen to music across various genres, cultures, languages and pick your favourite song' , read the chalkboard behind me. It was quite a task to get the rest of the class started. Clara however, was a natural. I don't think she spent a minute without her headphones and notepad. That was the only time I interacted with the kids and although most were adorable, Clara Winslow left an impression instantly. Later that day and for every day since, I was assigned generic prep work so I barely saw the kids....

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Paul Hugo

(Image source: Wix Image Creator)

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The Ominous Letter

I listen to what you say when you believe you’re alone. I know what you would rather do if you knew nobody was watching . I can feel you tense at my words. I can hear your breathing pattern cautiously pause. When your grandmother said “Mind what you let occupy your mind”, where were you? She may not have known the core reason behind what she preached, but she was right in thinking it was essential to protect you. She had every reason to be concerned. It is one of the greatest mysteries of the human race how nobody discovered that thoughts are logged. There are arrays of them incrementally pouring in as you read this. I have unhindered access to each thought of yours, as much as I would like otherwise. Some of the thoughts are periodically repeated. As a bunch, they collectively move forward to take the form of an action. I sit there in pain at the very onset of your first immoral thought, praying it never finds its bunch. My job is to send back uninv...