Reviewed By: William T. Hathaway This new Stanford video series investigates consciousness as the source of not only the human mind but also of all energy and matter. Consciousness is seen as the essence of the universe, a unified field…

By: Paul Beckman We sat cramped in the Rabbi’s study — four sisters, Dora, Pauline, Annie, and Lena, all in their seventies with Dora being the eldest now that Lizzie was gone. There were two husbands, Dora’s Stan and Lena’s…

By: Leena Adhvaryu Suffocating in the sky is amorphous this feeling hasn’t found a planet yet. It sleeps with a zillion eyes open in a city gobbled by greed, like an insomniac sleeping in eternity.

By: Saima Afreen Kidneys. That’s what everybody called those pockets of the city. The grimy tents cleared the city’s junk: the industrial excretion or cremation of a dozing old building. Hillocks of metal scraps grew and vanished everyday. Continuos cling-clang-clangety…

By: Saima Afreen It was just another day. Another life with usual-yet-unusual breakfast of boiled peas, cucumber slices and a boiled egg with its mouth open in the yellow bowl. Her mouth gaped at the puff of smoke rising before…

By: Raymond Greiner Working as an archeological researcher unveils discoveries mixed with complexities. I was summoned to this institution of learning as an instructor, teaching knowledge attained from data gathered relating to humankind’s historical pathway. Time and archeology fuse solving mysteries…

By: Saheli Khastagir Thank God they sent Milaan bhai with me. I don’t like the other one! I mean…I don’t hate him…I shouldn’t. He is the one who got me to the city in the first place. But he is always…

By: Adreyo Sen Till I was fifteen, I was very close to my grandfather. In the evenings, I would sit by his side as he rummaged through the uneven country that was his desk. My grandfather had been, for forty…

By: Linda M Crate damask faces everyone looks at me blankly no one recognizes the girl staring back at them, and i admit i’ve changed since they last have seen me; wrote a few books and had one published— these…

By: Linda M Crate i have no more words for you we’ve dried up you can’t force water from a rock without divine help, and i don’t think our withered friendship is even worth the effort; the blame does not…