Rockstarwisey Shadows of desires

My story begins in a small neighbourhood in chennai where I was born as Sammy, fondly known as Sam. From an early age, I was the embodiment of youthful demeanour and promise. I excelled academically, showcased my athletic prowess on the cricket , volleyball and badminton courts, and was hailed as a leader among my peers. The school recognized my multifaceted talents; I was the class monitor, an all-rounder who juggled studies and sports effortlessly. I was adored by my family—my parents and my sister, who showered me with love and encouragement. Being the youngest child in my generation I was often regarded as the apple of my parents' eyes, receiving the kind of adoration that made me feel invincible. However, as with many great stories, mine had a turning point, a moment that would shift the course of my life in ways I could never have anticipated As I transitioned into my teenage years, life took. a drastic turn. A series of false accusations from a neighbor turned my world upsid...

Dear Wise Fool (2025), As I sit here, reflecting on the tangled web of memories that has shaped who I am, I feel the weight of the past pressing heavily on my chest. The tremors of these memories often catch me off guard, sending ripples of uneasiness through my mind and heart. Some days, it feels as if I am shackled by experiences I wish I could simply burn away. Yet, through this chaos, a flicker of hope ignites within me—a desire to dream anew and forge a path toward a brighter dawn. Memories, both sweet and bitter, are the ghosts that linger in the corners of my mind. They whisper tales of joy and sorrow, moments that once brought laughter, and others that left me in tears. I find myself caught in a cycle of reliving these magical moments, often with a bittersweet longing. My heart trembles as I recall the laughter shared with loved ones, the warmth of their presence, and the comfort of knowing I was not alone. But then come the time shadows, the memories that make me mad, the ones...

In the midst of life’s journey, we meet people who leave an indelible mark on our hearts. People who inspire us, challenge us, and make us better versions of ourselves. And in my life, there’s an old man who fits this description to a tee. He’s a giant of a man, both in stature and in character. He towers above most people, but his heart is even bigger. He’s gentle and kind, always ready with a smile and a word of encouragement. He’s the kind of person who makes you feel seen and heard, even when you’re struggling to find your voice. And when it comes to understanding, he’s a master. He seems to have an innate ability to read people’s minds and hearts, to know what they need before they even ask for it. He’s a problem-solver, a fixer of broken things, a healer of wounded souls. He’s the kind of person you turn to when you need help, and he never disappoints. God has truly blessed him with a wise wife and an intelnaughty son. His wife is his partner in every sense of the word, a woman o...

In the heart of the woods, where whispers blend, Sammy and Dora, two souls making amends, Through rustling leaves, laughter filled the air, A friendship ignited, with sparks everywhere. "Hey, you’re not bad for a IT techie," he grinned, Her charm like a beacon, where warmth had begun. They hiked side by side, as shadows interwined, Each step a soft whisper, each glance redefined. But oh, that chill, the distance they’d crossed, Familiarity grew, but what if love got lost? Yet nature’s embrace held their quiet fears, As daylight faded, night felltime to shift gears. With stars overhead,  moonlit night, they shared their dreams, Conversations flowed like glimmering streams. Sammy’s wits and Dora’s sweet charms, Became the warm blankets that kept them from harm. Those late nights unfolded, a dance so divine, In hugs and in kisses, their hearts intertwined. He melted in her vibes,  her aura a fire, Each kiss ignited a more primal carnal desire. “Your eyes,” he whispered, “hold ga...

The rain came down in soft whispers, a gentle drizzles that danced on the rooftops of Bangalore, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. It was late afternoon, and the city was wrapped in a cool embrace, the kind of weather that sparked an electric connection in the air. Sammy, ruggedly handsome with playful eyes, salt and pepper beard and a confident grin, was stretching his legs under a makeshift tent at Cubbon Park, surrounded by runners and the uninhibited energy that came with marathon events. The 12 km run was about to begin, and he could feel the familiar thrill bubbling within him. Running was more than a sport; it was an escape, a way to balance his dominant persona with moments of grounding clarity. Beside him, a small group was warming up, chatting, vibing. As Sammy adjusted his googles, his heart skipped a beat when he spotted her. Dora. She stood a few feet away, her silky hair falling in luscious curves around her shoulders, wearing a fitted runnin...