In conversation with Nadine…

This article is in response to the Mystery Blogger Award and the questions asked by Nadine.

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Of Rats and Awakened Conscience…

The room was reeking when he returned from the office, and the moment he unlatched the front door, the smell reached to him like a gust of wind. He retched, and though his ribs ached nothing came out from inside. He had never vomited in his life, not even when he was an unweaned child....

Heart and its reasons…

This blog has been written in sheer haste. Because misery, when given the slightest of time, has terrible habit of finding a vague substitute for it that we call hope.

Washing Machine and Life…

I stared into my washing machine while the clothes were whirling inside it. What came out along with the washed clothes has been jotted down.

Of Journeys and Pilgrimages…

This is as much of a piece on Hope and Courage as it is on what the title suggests. But, I believe, that the only way to overcome anything is by moving towards something, a place, a person, or even a void if one firmly believes in it.

Fortitude, and the game of Eyes and Heart…

When faced with the situations demanding fortitude one must exhibit it, or pretend its possession. There isn't really anything else that remains at one's disposal in such situations.

Of Ghost, Night, and Tide…

This piece was born when I was scared. There was darkness all around and everything seemed daunting.

Wait and Hope…

When abandoned by the books, every other thing turned into an act of waiting. Serendipitously, the title of the blog, as I recall it now, also happens to be Dumas' tour de forces' final advice.

Shadows and the diabolical lizard…

I never really understood what he meant when he talked about shadows. And he always talked about shadows. Like, a lot. Frankly speaking, it is not just about him or what he used to say. It has to be something with me. A foible. Like some people are bad with Physics, others with Maths. I...

Myriad Emotions and Menthol…

He knew that in wars like these, where one fought against one's own heart, one was always bound to lose. But these wars have to be fought nevertheless. All through one's life. He has seen everyone around him fighting against that one thing or one person they love the most, and eventually, the fight ends...

When the heart finally concedes…

Concede. There comes a time when you finally concede to the defeat and let it enter and reign over you. And, time gives this opportunity to all of us. At some point in time or the other. To concede to its supremacy. 'Stop being insolent', it derides at our faces. And then, you accept that...

A DIMLY LIT ROOM WITH A RAY OF HOPE

Just like the way a girl never forgets her first kiss, a boy never forgets his first bike, a father never forgets his child’s first grip around his finger, and a mother never forgets to check on her child who stays away from her - I can never forget what happened in those few days...