Words falling off from the tower of memories And the silverfish whispered to the man, its voice dripping with darkness, if he had ever devoured the bitter essence of words. The man, haunted by a deep, consuming passion, exhaled long breaths of despair and surrendered to his fate. He implored the pest to await him… Continue reading THE TOWER OF MEMORiES
And the owl was privy to the affairs of the night. Nursing an unhinged head, it was the only witness under the moon's milky light. *** A hand covered in dust, dirt and time sneaked in from the window. Certainly, to commit a heinous crime, the hand had come alone like a widow. It grasped… Continue reading NiGHTMARE
And the blind man moved enthusiastically, unafraid through the speeding, morning traffic. The horns honked and the shouts played, but, nothing could get to his stubborn head. He appeared unhurt on the other side. Little did he know of the end that waited for him. He had gone there to meet his lover, and then… Continue reading THE MAN FROM TiME
And I stand in the terrace surrounded by the tapestry of bricks. Weaved into the usual pattern, the bricks are no different from one another. I am here, in a home territory, and there are millions of others like me. I can’t see them; we are all in a blissful ignorance, and they can’t see… Continue reading THE BLiSS OF iGNORANCE
And the feather of thought swayed with the lightness of the wind. They say, you have to be the wings of the bird to fly; to travel and unravel, to stay and drift, to be and be forgotten, to be seen and imagined, to be the truth and a lie. The lights got dim, and… Continue reading THiRST
And she kept her disguise aside and came out when the sun went out. She isn’t alone; she dances along with a horde of equally beautiful women around her sharing a common disguise. They have the beauty of a cool breeze in hot weather; you never get enough of them. They stay disguised as plants… Continue reading THE EXiLE
And as I walk, crushing the dead fragile leaves, under my feet, I stop after a few brisk steps. It was and is never easy to jump out of a small window and track the faded footsteps on dry grass, but that exactly is how I will find my way back home. I have travelled… Continue reading HOMECOMiNG
KASHiVOLOGY 