I held a beer can and a cigarette dangled from my lips. A hundred eyes pried, passing me by.

Wait, what was I doing?

I hate beer, have always. And a cigarette, please! I couldn’t even light it until a stranger came to my rescue with a rueful smile. …


but same old me!?!

Ermm.. I am a woman of few words…

I have a verbal diarrhea only when I am writing or I am with close friends. So, brace yourselves!

2019 has been one of a kind. I run a small content boutique, creating brand stories by the day…


By- Shreya Parashar

I settled into my chair, looking at appointments for the day when someone knocked frantically.

“Mr. Singh? But Shasha’s appointment is in…” I gulped my words as another man followed him, carrying Neha in his arms.

Neha is Shasha’s younger sister, whom I met yesterday, very briefly…


“Lit Up — May’s Prompt: Nostalgia”

He stood out as if from another time; square peg in a round hole.

No one went unnoticed from my newsstand at the city square. He would buy a newspaper and sit with his coffee, the old school way.

His parched lips and scaly skin that could not remember what…


Collaboratively written with: Amy Chai, Michael Riley, Gunjan Karun, Luciano Aldana II, and Jake

“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.” — Jack Kerouac

“So what do you do when you have nowhere to go? …


By: Shreya Parashar

Dear Mom,

I know that you are already rolling your eyes at the salutation. Dear, darling, sweetheart etc. have never been your vocabulary. But this piece of missive is from me to you. And I want you to hear me out…

Mom, you have inculcated some lifelong…


By: Shreya Parashar

In the end, what really matters?

That you lived, but for others!

Why don’t you start again?

Yeah the clichéd, let’s begin

But begin like you mean it

Live like you own it.

You have dwelled enough

There is no right way

And your way is not wrong.

So drop that garb

And jump over the barb

That holds captive your dreams

And tells you not to take a leap

Shed that old skin

Of the chores that became You

Opinions that weighed you down

The love and fear that role- played to tame you

Grab your naked soul and glisten

Because who doesn’t want a line or two about oneself?

Beyond the From- and To- etched on the epitaph

So fill your lungs to the full

And drop down the bygones

For you’ll soar on the summery winds

When you learn to let go


Lit Up — January’s Prompt: Things We Left Behind

By: Shreya Parashar

I am listening to Shigeru’s In the mood for love when it starts drizzling. The petrichor emanating and blending with the music tows me towards my childhood.

In the abandoned garden. The derelict Victorian mansion. The ornate wrought-iron gate. Frangipanis and bougainvillea. The cross.

I grew up…


By: Shreya Parashar

Intro: Brouhaha is a story about the fuss and hullabaloo that goes in a girl’s mind who is out on roads in her pyjamas. Pyjama, pajama or PJs are a gender- neutral pair of loose trousers tied by a drawstring around the waist and are usually worn…


By: Shreya Parashar

Like everyday, I am flying and brooding; I get profound when I fly. I am TO DO, not to be done, it’s my name. I am an ordinary pigeon with various shades of grey. Honestly speaking, I am an outcast amongst my folks because I showed my…

Shreya Parashar

Closet story writer taking baby steps; Time Traveler stuck with good Movies-Books-Songs, in no particular order.

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