Tales of a Tattler

  We spend much of our lives searching for signs that we hold a place in the grand scheme of things.   But if, for a moment, we paused, and truly listened, we might hear the quiet whispers of the universe: in the brush of wind against your skin, in the steady pull of the tides, in the quiet persistence of waves meeting the shore.    It is in these moments, that we realize that it doesn’t matter whether we are great or small. The universe isn’t concerned with scale. There is only the experience, and the unexpected peace that comes when we stop measuring our place in it, and simply let ourselves be.    And perhaps, that’s where this poem begins...

In 2020, Mumbai: the city that never sleeps, slumbered like a child. The railway halted, the bustles dissolved, and its "spirit" softened into tranquillity. An unfamiliar silence pervaded every corner and street. And behind every closed door, a different story quietly unfolded. This is one such story. A fragment of the moments, the memories, and the stillness that lingered among you and me. It is an elegy to all that was, all that could have been, and all that remains.