Preserving your Authentic Self

Authentic. Raw. Real. Are we really that magical without filters? Then why do we move away from the real self? Why do we feel the need to prove our worth to the world, without realising it and being comfortable just being ourselves? If it is our life, our dream, our purpose, we need to back ourselves with…

The power of “Yet”

Everything is possible, In time you can do it, I bet, Nothing is conclusive, The journey has just begun, don’t forget, Pick that goal again and with love, Just sprinkle the power of “Yet” Alka Sharma. All Rights Reserved. Photo: Ramnik Chhabra

Cream Dream

I reached out my hand to pull out a burgundy brick, it was drenched in cranberry juice and dripped on my hand as I held it. I licked the purple trail uptil my wrist. I took my first soft bite, closing my eyes to capture the symphony on my tongue. It was sweet, spicy, tangy and very naughty. I…

Care Less|Be Happier

He always met me grinning eye to eye, cheating time and space, as if we were never apart. He loved standing on his favourite spot overlooking the fairytale valley to greet family and guests alike. And he waited patiently with his dew drop eyes for a smile, a conversation or a pat on his back….

She

She lived in her dreams. While the world was chasing answers, she had found the meaning. She didn’t dress up for anyone. She didn’t undress for anyone. It was always her life, her path, her choice. #3linetales Alka Sharma All rights reserved

From mess to magic!

‘What is that disgusting thing grandma!’ I asked, anticipating the mystery to unfold. ‘Come here love,’ she patiently showed me how she would separate the pumpkin pulp from the seeds, washing, then drying them in the sun, before toasting. ‘All mess has magic within, we just have to find it!’ ‘But seeds, yuck!’ I would turn up my button…

How many hours have I loved myself?

How many hours have I loved myself? A few sprinkled forgotten moments, it is tough to start calculating now, How many times did I stand up for myself? My soul churns sour memories, I don’t remember speaking up, or fighting the pow-wow, How many moments have I lived for myself? My memory serves empty answers, my…

Dream come true

Lilies were my favourite flowers. Pristine white, gentle and virgin. So when I saw them in a dream, I knew it meant something. The dark, broody sea lord walked up to me with the bunch. The fish formed a silver halo around us, sealing in the magic. He gently lifted both his arms in a prayer…