http://slow.writerscafe.org/Nehaagrawal12 The original writings of author Neha agrawal en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775944014 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Riya scrolled listlessly through her phone that afternoon, hearing half-heartedly the hum of her ceiling fan. A video popped up , water surging through the streey narrow lanes of Dharali, a Himachal Pradesh village. Streets had disappeared, replaced by a churning brown river carrying chairs, buckets.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2958017/ A Tribute to India’s 79th Independence Day http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2957650/ Under summer's light,the flower blooms,life wakes up from the dust,Towords it's first dawn.It bends,it changes,makes a new turna new chapter to unfoldunder the sun's warm touch.But that is not true. Life is a liewe hold in our hands,a tale we telluntil the pagesbur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2957004/ A Heist by Monkeys and Humans Alike. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2956531/ In Vrindavan, the monkeys don’t want your bananas ,they want your assets. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2956508/ This is a funny war between a human and a lizard story http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2956105/ This poem is dedicated to the one,who didn’t need a reason to stay, who chose love in silence, on ordinary days with messy hair and quiet smiles. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2955850/ A poem about love lost, the ache of waiting, and the beauty of a return. where the ocean carries every unspoken word back to the shore of a second chance. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2955406/ Rhea always believed in the kindness of beginnings.A soft “Hi.” A gentle smile. A message came with warmth, like sunlight through a morning curtain.She cherished those moments. Not just as a writer, but as someone who thought the world needed more softness. So when the mess.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2955025/ (A tribute to the bride and a beautiful tradition newly discovered) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2954958/ A Journey Through School, College, Work, and the People Who Stayed. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2954884/ A tribute to every Indian kitchen that makes pickles with love, memory, and spice. It's inspired by mothers, traditions, and the quiet stories cooking in oil. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2954028/ A poem for those who have loved deeply, and survived. But not without change. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2953795/ A poem that shows the iconic TV shows, ads, and movies that shaped every 90s kid’s childhood. From Shaktimaan to Simba, Hum Paanch to Scooby-Doo ( in India). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2953331/ “Popcorn Over Plot” mixes humor and nostalgia to point out how storytelling has been overshadowed by CGI, clichés, and chaos. This leaves popcorn as the only genuine element of the show. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2952431/ This poem travels in time from a child's innocence to an adult's performance to ask a question about what we lose when the world is always watching. "Fame fades. Who you are doesn't". http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2952089/ It's a true story about a strong bond between teacher and student. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2951657/ This poem captures the wonderful, powerful bond of the teacher and the student a bond formed not on praise or condemnation, but on trust, patience, and belief. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2951457/ This poem is about a person who changes like a chameleon (hiding their true colors) or like the seasons (shifting only when the time is right). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2951110/ Lately, a lot of people have been telling me, “You’re using ChatGPT, right?”Honestly? Think what you want.If you believe that, that’s your thinking. I can’t keep proving myself to everyone.Yes, I know what ChatGPT is? I won’t deny that. But just because I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2950853/ You looked away,just a second too long,and I mistook itfor distance.I laughed,just a little too loud,and you thoughtI didn’t care.We were never fighting,not reallyjust slipping on wordsmeant to hold,but spoken withthe wrong edge.You said, “I’m fine.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2950779/ Hey everyone! �'�I’m Neha Agrawal, a storyteller at heart who’s obsessed with flawed characters, emotional twists, and the kind of stories that stay with you long after the last chapter.I’ve been quietly writing for a while, and now I’m finally.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2950687/ Not all love poems cry.Some just sit beside you quietly,like your hand on my kneeon a drive with no destination.Some love poems don’t even rhyme.They show up asa half-burnt toast you still ate,or the way you rememberI hate coriander but love mint.Some days,love isn&rsqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2950551/ Last night,I reached for you.Not out of habit,but hope.The sheets were cold.The space beside me,louder than silence.I closed my eyesto find you in dreams,but memories came insteadwarm, stubborn,unforgiving.Your skin, your breath,your weight against mine.I remember i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2950092/ There are threads.Not the kind you'd seenot silk, not lace.But something knotted quietlybetween you and me.They don’t glow.They don’t shimmer.But they holdwhen everything else gets frayed.A word,a memorya laugh that shows up uninvitedand suddenly, there it is .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949924/ The wind slipped sideways through the pineNot quite a whisper. Not a line.It hummed a sound the roots once caught,Off-key, half-lost, and barely thought.The moss had climbed a chunk of stone,Like it had grown there all alone.A shadow moved, or maybe notStill as a name we once forgot... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949923/ (A Tale of One Man, Five Emails, and Seven Alarms) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949852/ (An Unexpected Tribute in Rhyme) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949850/ A bleeding poem of broken trust, where every whispered 'I love you' was just another lie. Now all that remains is a vow: never again. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949535/ To every reader who turned these pages and felt something �" thank you for listening.To the girls and women whose strength lit the spine of this story: Meera, Kiara, and Sanya may be fictional, but they are stitched together from truths I’ve seen, read, and heard in whispers th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949496/ POV: Dual �" Aarav & Ira---One Month LaterThe courtroom wasn’t packed.No flashing cameras.No roaring press.Just rows of still chairs, restless leg shakes, and survivors who refused to blink.Devendra Verma sat at the defendant's bench.He looked smaller than.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949494/ POV: Aarav & Ira (Dual Narrative)---AaravHe stood on the rooftop of the Verma & Ray building, where once Vivaan toasted billion-rupee contracts and charmed the skyline like it bowed just for him.But now �" the city didn’t shine.It watched.Vivaan arrived late, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949493/ POV: IraThe hardest part wasn't writing the truth.It was deciding how to tell it.Because truth �" when it’s this dark, this systemic, this deliberately buried �" doesn’t shout. It whispers. Bleeds. Disorients.So Ira whispered.---She didn&rs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949491/ POV: AaravThe invitation came as casually as the crimes never confessed.> “Meet me for dinner?”Vivaan's message arrived like it had no weight, like they weren’t standing at the edge of a truth so devastating it could undo everything Aarav had ever built �" a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949489/ POV: IraThere were only two things Ira knew for sure now:1. Sanya’s name was the key to a door Aarav had never wanted to open.2. And that Meera had tried to blow that door off its hinges.The problem was �" no one had been listening.She returned to Meera’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949488/ POV: Aarav (Therapy Session �" Confidential)> Transcript marked PRIVATE by Dr. Rehm. Not for clinical release.---The recorder clicks on.Aarav doesn’t speak. He just stares at the far wall �" not the doctor, not the window, not the clock ticking behind them.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949487/ POV: IraThe art studio smelled like turpentine and rainy evenings.Fitting, Ira thought. That was exactly how Kiara’s name felt now �" sharp, stained, and wet with ghosts.She hadn’t known where else to go, but Meera’s journal had mentioned “Ms. Indrani,&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949486/ POV: AaravThere was a strange smell in his childhood home �" not decay, not dust, but something more clinical.Memory, sterilized.Aarav walked past the photo wall without pausing. His mother had rearranged the frames again �" his brother, Vivaan, grinning on mounta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949485/ POV: IraSome pages speak louder when they’re missing.That was Ira's first thought when she flipped through Meera’s journal again �" the one she had read, reread, underlined, highlighted, cried over. But today, something felt... incomplete.She had memorized Meera&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949484/ Ira �" Present DayThe college archives didn’t keep records of who broke down, only who dropped out.But Kiara Roy’s name appeared once in the university festival pamphlet �" her face captured mid-laugh, holding a sketchpad. Next to her, in the blurry backgr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949483/ There are days when silence feels heavier than noise.And then there are nights �" like this one �" when the quiet doesn't just settle; it stalks.Ira and Aarav sat on her rooftop, shoulder-width apart, close enough to share warmth but too far to borrow comfort.The ci.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949482/ Aarav Verma had always trusted structure.It was how he designed buildings, how he lived.Lines. Angles. Quiet precision.But lately… something was off.Not visibly. Not yet.But the feeling was there.Like a load-bearing wall was missing and the ceiling hadn’t realized it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949373/ It started with a post-it note.Just one.> “Shimla �" Avalanche �" Sanya Kapoor �" 5 yrs ago �" missing?”Ira stuck it on the wall above her desk, right between a quote by Sylvia Plath and a coffee-stained rejection letter she kep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949372/ Ira Sen had always believed that if you listened closely enough, people revealed themselves �" in pauses, in changes of tone, in the way their eyes flickered when a name was mentioned.But with Aarav Verma?There was too much silence.And it wasn’t the poetic kind anymore... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949371/ There are places in your life that stop being real after a while.Shimla was one of those for Aarav Verma.He remembered the way the snow tasted in the air. Sharp. Metallic. Like the aftermath of something you couldn’t name.It had been five years. But the images returned easily &#201.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949282/ Ira had always believed that people were stories waiting to be told �" some with loud beginnings, others with quiet endings.But Aarav Verma?He was a story told in reverse.The more she spoke to him, the less she understood. He wasn’t unreadable. He was overwritten &#2013.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949280/ This poem captures the raw beauty of motherhood—the sleepless nights, the moments of doubt, the little tantrums, and the overwhelming joy of watching a tiny fighter grow into a wildflower. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949195/ It's poetic, unique, and deeply ties into the final line of the chorus. It’s intriguing and emotional enough to invite listeners in, wondering what “not outright” love means. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949139/ This poem is a gentle yet powerful reflection on rising above doubt and negativity. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949136/ A poem about modern teens with a dash of humor and a pinch of heartbreak http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Nehaagrawal12/2949105/