Khayyam
The moving finger writes and having writ, moved on: not all thy piety not wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, not all thy tears wash out a word of it.
P.S.: Read “Remnants of Separation” by Aanchal Malhotra. Well worth your time.

193 views
Comments are disabled for this post.
Join the conversation
Sign up to comment, like, and connect with writers on thinkdeli.
Never miss a post from manan dedhia
Get notified when manan dedhia publishes a new post.
Related Posts
When Signing a piece of Paper ended it All
What a Journey this 6 years and 8 months have been till date.A relationship of 12 years in a marriage and 4 years of dating in hiding. Memories of Truly, Madly, Deeply. From sneaking and Secret meetings in Bombay, stolen moments and doing any and everything to just be toget...
Sameer Gudhate presents the Book Review of Remnants: A Journey through Grief, Love and Becoming by Aarti Upadhyay
Have you ever sat in silence, scrolling through your thoughts at 2 AM, trying to make sense of everything you’ve lost, loved, and outgrown? That’s the space Remnants lives in—those quiet, aching, deeply human corners of our lives. It doesn’t shout for your attention. It gently wa...

Untitled
I opened Khullam Khulla: Rishi Kapoor Uncensored expecting a polite Bollywood memoir — the kind that tiptoes around gossip and glosses over the messy bits. Instead, I found myself sitting beside Chintu, a glass of whiskey in hand, in a smoky green room, watching him spill every s...

Pukhtunwali
As anyone growing up in 90’s India, I could do the Pathan accent. The images of Kabuliwalah and Khuda Gawah in equal measure and the romance of thinking of distant peoples whose lives could not be more different than yours.

Untitled
Have you ever read a book that feels less like “reading” and more like sitting with an old friend who speaks in poetry? That’s exactly how I felt with Usi Lamhe Ki Khatir. Right from the very first couplet —

Zindagi zinda-dili ka naam hai
There was a time I’d chase sunsets with a camera in one hand and a plan for the perfect Instagram grid in the other. Every frame told a story. Every moment had a caption. Fast forward to now, and I’m mostly capturing toy-strewn floors, sleepy smiles, and half-eaten snacks… all on...
Unequal Goodbyes
The rickshaw made him a little uncomfortable. During a similar journey, a few years ago, his rickshaw met with a terrible accident. He broke four ribs. The bones had healed. But the scars stayed. He could never sleep comfortably. His ribs hurt every night. But he had got used to ...
Untitled
There are some stories that don’t knock at your door with grand entrances — they slip in quietly, like a whisper in a crowded room. His Last Note by Harshitha Rajala is one of those. It doesn’t come at you with noise or spectacle, but with the fragile intimacy of two strangers ex...
