March 18, 2016
Picture courtesy: Prateek Shukla

Picture courtesy: Prateek Shukla


For that famished soul of mine,

that doesn’t need a glass of wine,

to dance to tunes, you’ve never heard,

My soul is famished but still a free bird,

It is perched on a high cliff there,

trying to grasp the sun, the clouds, the air,

and mix it all up in a bowl,

to feed the hungry famished soul,

Ah! You thought the soul wasn’t cultured enough,

It’s born with good habits sometimes disguised behind bluff,

The soul is ever hungry like those ….maybe like all souls often are,

Just creating different recipes, gathering a bit of galaxy and stars,

It is not the golden platter or the golden spoon,

that makes you relish, that makes you swoon,

Just add a little spice and a little stardust,

for the appetite of the soul, the wanderlust.

– By Upasana Singh

March 14, 2016