Review of Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond, published by Speaking Tiger Books By Mitali Chakravarty Ruskin Bond’s Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond has writings…
By: Don Tassone I’d been walking for about a mile on the Binghamton Trail alongside the Chenango River when I came to a bench and decided to rest for a moment. A middle-aged man, older than me, was…
By: Aritra Basak The first time I learned about random walks, I dismissed the concept as an academic toy. Left or right, heads or tails—it felt like a game for people with nothing better to do than count coin tosses….
By: Eugen Oniscu From childhood to his thirtieth year, Robert Ciubotaru had lived only for brawls, thefts, and scandals. As a minor he had even spent a few years in a reformatory school. If anyone had told him life could…
By: Bruce Mundhenke The Seven Stars The seven stars are old.Many eyes have gazed at them in the night,their pattern constant,beacons of light.Almost eternal,but in time,only the Old One will remain.All else will pass,except for what He chooses to retain….
By: Camela B. Gabia “A Message to Max” In my hectic busy day,I always hear your laughter far away.Each work I do, each step I take,I can feel the ache of the time we forsake.The hours seem so long, yet…
By: Harrison Cashmere The Market of Closed Eyes I woke and went straight to the market,Drunk with drowsiness, intoxicated by fatigue.I drifted here and there, sleepilySearching for humanity among the stalls.My eyes were closing; sunbeams foughtTo open them for a…
By: Matt Mercado I had just broken up with my ex. It was my first breakup, which meant I handled things poorly. To make it worse, we were still living together. A precarious financial situation meant shared captivity was…
By Andrew J. Schmidt I have always found the night a welcome companion. A sanctuary. Beneath the pale light of the moon, the world seems muted, calm, as though holding on to its breath, and the mind is freed from…
By: Srinjaya LahiriWe met in the warm colours of spring. In the hues of golden, blue, and pink. Our first meeting transpired in congenial formality. Our eyes met, but with restraint. Then, what began with a cordial smile, slowly graduated…