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 he no longer stares through the window at the herd or the gang that passes below his house, daily. The dogs are a lot more now, everywhere there is the smell of piss and excretion and among them is the howl, a howl that can be heard but does not register to the head,… Continue reading THE UNTiTLED
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 Kashiv filled a glass of water from the kitchen and sat down to read what he had just finished writing in his diary. Earlier in the day he had observed a man, an angry man. Somehow Kashiv seemed to be carrying the same disease on his way back to home. He cursed the lonely lock… Continue reading ANGER
It was dark. The bulbs hung tirelessly from the ceiling, their presence today was felt more than any other day. It was on days and nights like this that they actually existed. Today their existence had a meaning. Today they were dead. Kashiv was perched on the plastic chair he so rarely used to sit.… Continue reading THE MEANiNG
And there he sat, at the corner table of the tea house, savoring each sip of the black Darjeeling tea. The look in the infidel's eye fanned my curiosity and I was instantly drawn towards him. I wanted to know this man who sat aloof from the world yet being an intricate part of it.… Continue reading REMAiN