Naina Agarwal

Back in 1992, when Malik Khan was six years and one month old, his parents left him to the riots following the demolition of the Babri Masjid. But this incident did not instill any sour thoughts against the other community or the world at large in him. Khan was no Batman; his abba had not left him a rich heritage that could foster his dream of making India great again. He grew up in the household of his childless uncle and aunt who willingly adopted and raised him as their own. Throughout his adolescence, Khan never indulged in self-pity and instead, channelized his energy into a positive direction, thus, seeking personal growth and development. Upon the completion of his engineering in Computer Science from an eminent technical university, Khan unsurprisingly bagged a decent package offered by an MNC, and landed in Pune.  In Khan, one could find an apparent amalgamation of talent and hard work – two key ingredients required to make a successful individual. Th

“He should be six-point-one feet tall,” Pooja giggled as she told him the ideal qualities she is looking for in a life partner. Her date smiled. He had to. He had his height written in the Tinder Bio. Her date was six-point-one. Pooja was good at it: the flirting game. She considered herself an independent, self-sufficient, metropolitan woman who was vocal about her needs and interests, and was not afraid of labels and tags. Pooja was a voracious reader of Facebook posts, high-end Twitter celeb, public figure on Instagram, e-book author in making, and frequent user of dating applications namely Tinder, Hinge and Bumble. She used the dating apps to pamper her singlehood. Once a fortnight or so, Pooja managed to go out on a casual date with a new boy post chit-chatting in the DM. Her present date was one such individual whom she had right-swiped on Tinder and upon a decent conversation that led to the two sharing their WhatsApp contacts, agreed to meet in person.

Taj Mahal marble. skin  Of snake or chameleon-  You change so quickly?  Chameleon skin-like;  You change your shades so quickly.  What you touch is yours.  Like a snake slithers out of its skin,  Frequently, but retains self -  You change yet you don't.  Are you an old witch?  Changing shapes at her own will?  Your beauty is unusual.  My white marble Taj -  Your moods vary from day to night - You are the nine rasas.   Every time I hold you,  I see a new you.  My kaleidoscope lover.  I wait patiently, every day,  For you to show me your real. Or is this your self?  You are a pastiche  Of different colours, Intermixed  Violently.  Revealing your shades;  In different zones differently.   That's where your beauty lies.  ***