short-story – scribo ad LX

Between Flights, Between Glasses

Airports are curious theatres of waiting. They are not quite places yet not entirely passages either—thresholds where the world pauses briefly before moving on. When I was in Helsinki, stopping over for a few hours on my way from New York to Delhi, that sense of suspension was heightened by the snow. It fell incessantly,Continue reading “Between Flights, Between Glasses”

Snow, Shovel, A Small Boy

I watched from the window as my nine-year-old grandson, Parth, stepped out into the freshly fallen snow, shovel in hand, as though answering a quiet summons. The driveway lay thick and white, unblemished, still wearing the hush of night. He was alone, valiantly so—scooping, lifting, pushing—his small boots sinking into the softness, his breath foggingContinue reading “Snow, Shovel, A Small Boy”

The Oak: A Tree of Time, Myth, and Memory: Part II

Antiquity and Evolution –From Fossil Records to Timekeeper of Forests “Oaks are not merely trees. They are hieroglyphs of time, their rings a silent language spoken in centuries.” A Tree Older Than Memory The oak is not only ancient—it is ancestral. Its story begins not in the pages of human myth or literature, but deep inContinue reading “The Oak: A Tree of Time, Myth, and Memory: Part II”

Brahma Kamal: The Flower That Blooms in Silence

“Some flowers bloom where silence dwells,In night’s soft breath, their secret swells.” A Chance Encounter It was not an evening meant for miracles. The day had folded into dusk without flourish—no omens, no signs. I stepped out into the softened hush, led only by the hand of a cooling breeze. And there it was. BeneathContinue reading “Brahma Kamal: The Flower That Blooms in Silence”

Colours of Bengaluru-IV

Purple Majesty: The Jacaranda’s Enchanting Splendour “Jacaranda whispers grace in lilac hues,Painting the world beneath with gentle blues.A rain of petals softens all that’s near,In silent beauty, spring’s voice we hear.” Such poetic musings capture the magic of Jacaranda. Gabriel García Márquez, the celebrated Colombian writer, eloquently observed: “They say Jacarandas are like love: blooming inContinue reading “Colours of Bengaluru-IV”