22 Mar 2015

The Lost Slippers

It was only from the last few days this had started happening.

He was a famous dentist. Raised in an orphanage, today he had everything one could imagine.
But his friends couldn't figure out, why sometimes their footwear would disappear as they came out of his house after a exhaustive chat.
Then they would have to stay a bit longer, until his servant bought them new pair of slippers.

Some thought it was the neighbour’s kid; others thought it was his dog.

That night, he thought…
25 years ago, when he was dropped into the orphanage, may be his parents would not have left him if someone would have hidden their slippers.

listen to Temple of Thought by POTF

8 Mar 2015


YOU poured all your life into raising a little infant
as if a part of your soul

later he went searching for another woman
like searching for a lost part of his heart

Only if he knew a woman can be only found
in her heart, not in the body, he would truly begin to know YOU

Happy Women's Day!

Listen to [Bryan Adams] - Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman 

1 Feb 2015

Your Story

Here are the stories shared by our readers after reading What's Your Story

Story #1
Oh yes I did read that People, Not things. I agree with it. True story in my case. More than things I had shut myself in my own world. But now I have realised the importance of connecting to people. The more I connect to others the more I connect to myself too.

Story #2
Well my story is...I don't know. But I keep thinking about the universe,why are we on dis earth and all.
And about aliens :D And I do believe in fairy tales and magic.
I believe everyone has a special power, we need to identify it.

What's your story?

We all like to believe in things we "like". It begins as children when we start believing and seeing fairies, angels and superheros.

As teens we believed in everything we badly desired
Our every belief is a unique story.

What's your story?
What did you spend all your time thinking about?

I want to meet you through your story.

Share your story on connectinsight@gmail.com.
Life's short. Make it sweet with a story.

P.S: All these stories will be posted anonymously. 

Meet the enhanting storyteller Sarah Kay at TEDxEast
Know more about ProjectVoice

31 Jan 2015

People, not things

Adrien was enjoying a high profile life as an investment banker. He had everything he dreamt of: a chateau, a yacht and his dream car – the Lamborghini.
But that day his housemaid found him unnaturally quiet.
“What is it monsieur?” she asked.

“I have been wrong Aimee. It is people I should have connected, not things I collected.”
- heramb

Enjoy this weekend with Can You Hear Me by Poets of the Fall 
Lyrics: here

26 Jan 2015

Things We Love

This was the 1st girl he had fallen in love with. In these 28 years.
Yes, the 1st.

"You fool, then why don't you speak to her? Go and tell her." asked his friend.
"We shouldn't hold everything we love. Some are fragile. Just let'em be." he said.

Listen to: Cradled in Love by PoetsofTheFall

28 Dec 2014

Two Poems

Here are two poems beautifully keyed-in by my little brother, Upkar.
Hope you enjoy these :)


I may not be fun
But I tell you, Iam as Iam !
Although you may care none

A teen I am, young at heart
Curious, talented and smart
But not in your eyes

Coz I don't fit into your notions
Of being expensive and cheap
I live in my own world
One of dignity and virtue deep
But not in your eyes

In your eyes
I am a very stupid one
Coz by hook or by crook
You know to get your things done
But I do not

I remain standing
Bolted to the ground
My virtuousness and integrity bind me there
This is what I have found

But I want to remind you
That if you ever feel sick
Of the phoney muck
You have gathered around

Worry not, you will find me
At the same place
Because I am standing there itself
Bolted to the ground


I pray...
On this Christmas day I pray
For a world
With a little less work and a little more play

For a world
With a little more smiles and a little less frowns
With lesser metros and more towns

For a world
With a little less indifference and a little more compassion
Lesser cruelty and greater consideration

For a world
With a little less suspicion and a little more trust
Lesser deceit and actions just

For a world
With a little less vanity and a little more modesty
Greater responsibility and lesser frivolity

For a world
With a little less brain and a little more heart
Lesser of science and more of art

For a world
With a little less disparity and a little more equality
Lesser of gluttony and more of charity

For a world
With a little less darkness and a little more light
And a conscience to guide us
To do what is right.

 Guest posts are welcome!
Passionate about writing short stories/poems? Send them at connectinsight@gmail.com

 "If I waited till I felt like writing, I'd never write at all"
- Anne Tyler

14 Dec 2014

The 11th Floor

“11th Floor”, she said with a slight blush as he pressed the button.
Their eyes met in the 30 seconds up to the 8th floor, everyday.

She seemed to collect herself together. The empty elevator smelt of Le Bleu de Chanel.

“8th floor”, said the elevator. His phone rang, “Love in an elevator” and he turned it off.

19 Oct 2014

You are a Mayfly

Have you read about or seen mayflies?
They live in a population which matures at once from eggs. 
[image courtesy: nationalgeographic.com]

And then ...
... for a day or two they are everywhere,
dancing around each other in large groups. They rest on every surface available to them.

Life for them is intense Imagine doing all you want in a day.
We all are mayflies.

But as Gautama put it, "You think you have time."

7 Oct 2014

The Flower Man (Tata Literature Live!)

Here's my entry for the Tata Literature Live festival(2014).
Hope you like it.
Share your comments and vote for me here... http://bit.ly/1xi3I7x

The Flower-Man

We went to a garden, 
my mamma and me

I saw a flower, 
a flower never seen

A flower that was glad,
and a flower that was sad

A flower so colourful,
yet a flower so dark

A flower so sweet,
a flower that had the spark!

So I asked my mamma,
about this flower in bliss

We sat on the grass,
as she said all this

This flower doesn’t cry,
this flower doesn’t dream

When we break it or we shake it 
or we kick it or we smell it

This flower never dries, 
and this flower never screams!

And all about the flower, 
is that it just is!

And the rest is 
your dream, boy!

As mamma started walking 
and I followed her about

‘What did you say mamma? ’ 
said I gripped by doubt

The last thing I saw,
was my mamma bent lower

As I came closer,
she became the flower

There was no mamma,
nor any flower

Coz four years ago,
my mamma was gone!

As was the flower,
never seen from the next dawn

Now when I walk,
in the garden again

I ask everyone,
have you seen the flower?

They give me a look,
as if I’m insane

And call me,
the Flower-man