And the wind doesn’t stop, doesn’t stay, and doesn’t wait. It has to travel like the thirsty traveler that it is; it has to go on and on, and meet people and places. Challenge the mountains and change courses of rivers. The wind has seen it all, and knows what is next. The wind is… Continue reading THE WRiTER
And master Mehmut, the well-digger, in Orhan Pamuk’s The Red Haired Woman, was inside the well because of an accident that made him stay there inside for a few hours until someone rescued him; Mr. Okada in Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-up Bird Chronicle went inside the dry well to think, to think in peace and… Continue reading ON THE OTHER SiDE OF SMOKE
And I die each moment because of my guilty conscience. I am in the present with my thoughts always lying in the past and the future. I am living to develop the theorem that will make me understand the cause and effect of things. I will be the greatest mathematician the world… Continue reading DREAMER
And I climb up the stairs, blinded by the blinding light of the blind sun. I stay, but I am in constant motion. I climb up and up and up to reach that top. That place where the sun is; that top where the light is born. I am a Climber. I walk up the… Continue reading THE CLiMBER
And I don’t know why but I feel there is nothing called gravity, at least not the way we are fed. I see the world upside down (I know many see it this way, but I mean it), as if my feet are the top most part of my body and the head, well… This… Continue reading THE DiViNE BOAR
The following entry is taken from the diary called Dreams. And a huge black cat is there in my room, like the one in The Master and Margarita. However, it doesn’t walk on two legs, like the pigs in Animal Farm. But it talks unlike any other cat. The Cat is there… Continue reading THE CAT iS THERE!
And I watch as the last blue rectangle of the wall in front of me disappears. I have been here for a hundred years and I am going to stay here for another thousand. I am a prisoner. Unlike Kafka’s The Trial, I am not here for a crime I have not committed but… Continue reading THE PRiSONER
And amongst the many little things lying scattered around, valuable or precious, thrash or invaluable, there lay a phone, a mobile phone. The phone was switched on an audio clip. The voice was instantly recognizable. It was Kashiv's. -The following is from the audio clip found on Kashiv's phone- And, I don't know how will… Continue reading BE YOURSELF