By: Gaither Stewart Oh, no, it’s already beginning. As every morning the usual twisting and untangling myself to escape these capricious sheets. Already another day. I no sooner finally drop off to sleep than I’m waking and another long day…

By: Adreyo Sen When I was a boy, my mother was the district magistrate of a tiny little corner of India. Magisterially disapproving of my tendency to disappear in my books and diaries, she’d take me with her on her week-long…

By: Rency Philip “Hand me another mug. I’m still thirsty.” A hesitant mug comes your way across the counter. The karaoke hours were fast approaching and you want to scoot before they start. As you gulped down what was the…

By: Neelam Singh Life’s struggles end today. Life, like a farce stands gaping at me. Moments of pain, laughter, fear and shame rekindled in my mind. Moments spent alone, and moments spent talking to walls. Today all was still, no…

Today, I’ve an interesting book which might sound more of a business one. However, I insist you read it. While this brings in mind the business, money into mind, it gives you an interesting class in India which has always…

By: Athena Mondal Image of a half-eaten moon, slowly savoured The downward strokes of an acoustic guitar, In wafts the smell of precious memories, Some from the well-guarded past, Some in the mind yet to be made, For only in darkness…

By: Athena Mondal Borrowed words Full of sound and fury But not my own. Dancing in the streets to music only in their ears Considered insane by those who Lack imagination. An idea is born and the ones with the words…

By: Adreyo Sen When Sinbad was small, I never thought she would grow to old age. She was a sweet little thing, gravely affectionate and so eager to please me in her quiet ways. Tractable in most things, she could be…

By: Adreyo Sen I never wondered why the only thing in my room was a grimy, stained bathtub, overflowing with black, sulphurous water. You see, I always assumed that it was there so that my brother could shove my face into…

By: Bejoy Balagopal In the rapidly vanishing sands of time, Where is it that I draw my line? Once the waves wash their sins on shore, How would I know which half is mine? In the lonely expanse of the blue,…