“Every time we met , he brought me a red rose”, said my mom pointing her finger towards my dad.

And continued ,”so how do u meet her ?”

“Hmmm…..I give a bunch of red roses

and sometimes I bring her pink balloons or red kites.

and then we kiss each other .”I said.

Being surprised and little furious,mom said : “What ! U besharam stupid boy!! U kiss in public!!!”

I said, calmly,”Mom ! We have met only in my dreams.

and there is no-one except both of us”.

Leave your footprints here... say your heart out !

Manoj Kishore Nayak

Hitherto known as the "Tissue Paper Poet" and credited many a times with initiating the same genre of poetry I, contemplated of writing this blog where I could inter-alia, endeavour to write my random thoughts and publish that of others. The blog will contain subjects of myriad hues ranging from poetry & travelogues to sundry incidents. Being a 'bookaholic' I would like to tell you about the books I read and the authors I meet across the corners which will quench your thirst for literary entertainment and will impart a certain cachet to your intellectuality. Read More...
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