

Thoughts are like footprints, leaving their mark…
On my mind, without permission.

This blog is a collection of my writings, such as articles, travelogues, poems and stories: the ramblings of a creative mind and an enthusiastic writer.

A dream come true! Published my first novel – A love story in the midst of an earthquake that devastated Bhuj in 2021. What can happen in such circumstances?

My love for writing took wings when I had the courage to reach out to publications. Take a look at some of my published works over more than two decades.

Some journeys in life are extraordinary. It is often difficult to express them, but here I have tried to share some of the most special moments of my life.
Ishita Deshmukh is, in many ways, a mascot for national integration! Born to Bengali and Gujarati parents, she grew up on a steady diet of Tamil culture and French literature (in the lovely town of Puducherry). If that wasn’t enough, she is married to a Telugu bidda. She has this uncanny (and unnerving) ability to switch between six different languages in the course of a conversation.
Ishita is a multi-tasking marketing professional with over 2 decades of experience. She recently worked in a Indian Classical Arts organisation as a marketing executive, organising small to large events with some celebrated artistes.


Naman Das was 20 years old, tall, gangly, stiff and shy. In fact, in college, I never noticed him for more than two years, although he was my classmate and I must have seen him for over a hundred times. Actually, I never noticed him till that day at the bus-stand, just a few weeks…

On one of my many trips to rural India, I randomly clicked several photographs. They were my check-points, reminders of various incidents that were at once interesting and intriguing. One of those fascinating experiences was finding cows in the middle of intense traffic. This is a most common sight in rural India. But also in…

Qui suis-je?Une goutte de rosée sur une brin d’herbe?Ou une rose souhaitant le printemps?Ou une feuille étendue sur la mousse?Non, juste une création de la Mère. Qui suis-je?Le vent tourbillonnant dans les forêts?Ou l’oiseau planant dans le sphère céleste?Ou la pluie fine humectant la terre?Non, juste une création de la Mère. Qui suis-je?L’éléphant secouant la…