Durga, I ask you

Panchamrit, to bathe her battle wounds Oti, of bright red silk to drape her like a bride Abeer, sindoor, haldi,…

The August Ode

Mine is a sect of the perpetually poor, fanatically introvert, only virtually talkative, socially uncomfortable, emotionally overcharged, poetically misunderstood unhappy…

A Beveraged Past

Growing up, you always had the same solution and the same suggestion for everything. Tea. Oh dear, did someone break…

On Being Anti Social

I don’t usually have epiphanies, but when I do they cause giant earthquakes at the very core of my being…

The Oldest Story Ever Told – II

After long years of grueling research and experiment, the Waterman’s Son finally succeeded in obtaining his means to achieving the…