Some nights, he lies in bed unable to sleep. And hums. Hums a song he doesn’t know. That brings to him memories he has never had. That sound happy but they aren’t his. But he hums. Hoping to clear the mist. And humming, he lies in bed, unable to sleep his melancholy sleep.
musings in a wandering life
Journalist | Writer | Analyst
Writer. Stand-Up Comic. Gulab Jamun Enthusiast.
-A control freak's diary.
Jottings on politics, dissent and life as a small town guy in the big, bad city
One Hundred Short Stories
on Economics, Politics, Pop Culture, and Quizzing.
For one can never have one too many a summer, nor too much music.
carvaan 