How is poetry born? Is it created by persons? Or does it have a life of its own, trickling into…
The Humpback Hampster High School In Toyling Tinsel Town Has sixteen yellow buses that Go up the town and down.
I was reading an article online, where I came across the following discussion –
Hours of moonlight are long past. The trees stand silent in the dark As if in hiding, from cool gusts…
When life gets hard And the noon is high And your eyes are sore and red. Your jammed head hurts,…
They told me “NO SPOILERS”, so I will shoot holes in this one after I am done, leaving only those…
Hark! The clotted nimbus rolls! The sky reddens in pain! The Nib of Death has woken, child, The Nib writes…
Jackie is a puppy-turned-dog, whom we brought up when we were Higher Secondary students. When we left, we left him…
A leaf was flying in the air. I was there standing beside the field, the evening closing in slowly all…