Author: Kaaya

Kaaya

An extensive reader, Kaaya is a lover of classics and romantics. She will only ditch reading for vacations and good food. Say food and you bet she is already salivating. A hopeless romantic, foodie, and roadie, she is always lit. Even on a rainy day, she is as lit as the firefly’s butt.
A background of pink roses with the name of the story on it.

Unwinding Waves of Crimson Mist – Chapter 5

Still numb and unable to understand what was happening, Savitri could think of nothing. Before she could realise, her elbow had already dug in his stomach. Such and unexpected move had left Raja sa aghast. Without even looking at what had come out of her rebellious deed, she ran through the gates and barged into her room.

A colorful house, legacy of medieval architecture in India.

Unwinding Waves of Crimson Mist – Chapter 4

The sun had finally set and half an hour had passed after Savitri’s performance was over. But, Raja sa had yet not stopped thinking about her. “Beautiful. Elegant. Pretty.” he

A beautiful white flower blooming while the sun sets in the background

Quietude

Marveling at the sight, I stood there, by the side Of the river that Never stopped to flow. Its water pristine, A little sweetness in brine Shone under the sun

How to Compose Your Best Poem

Compose Your Best Poem

Hold on to those emotions
Rhymes are secondary
Give it time, Do not hurry
Write, nonetheless
Read extensively

Savitri stands by the wall while a red stripe covers her face and an elephant imitates that stripe in similar colours.

Unwinding Waves of Crimson Mist – Chapter 2

The haveli was surreal for her. The ponds inside, their beautiful flower and candle decoration left her awestruck. Tall walls were carved in beautiful designs. There were statues of peacocks and numerous paintings. Even her kanchli was decorated with small frames of artwork. While walking through the place, she came across a marbled section, different from the rest of the mansion. There were no men, only women playing, talking, busy with their daily chorus. “Stop there. You are not supposed to go in.” said a woman who was dressed entirely in white.

Sillage poem about memories by Kaaya Faye

Sillage – Perfume of Memories

Sillage Sunny afternoons and sweaty palms, Playing in the rugged grounds with rubble. Travelling through the city lights In air-conditioned metros. Sitting in the college cafeteria with friends, Discussing assignments