FICTION, identity, poetry

THE SOMNAMBULiST iCE-CREAM SELLER WALKS BESiDES A STEAM ENGiNE POWERED TRAiN

And as he walks he puts a hand on his cap covered head, out of sheer habit, lest the smoke from the steam engine throw the cap off from its ground. The cap is striped like that of a school boy’s. It is indeed out of sheer habit that the ice-cream seller puts his hand… Continue reading THE SOMNAMBULiST iCE-CREAM SELLER WALKS BESiDES A STEAM ENGiNE POWERED TRAiN

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diary, FICTION, poetry

THE WRiTER

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

identity, life, soul

BEHiND THE VEiL

“And today is no different”, she said. Like a mathematical assumption, let the girl be X. Let her be X because I really do not know her name, or what she liked herself to be addressed in. She sat there on the lonely bench, holding a copy of The Liar’s Weave by Tashan Mehta. Intrigued… Continue reading BEHiND THE VEiL

diary, life, soul

ON THE OTHER SiDE OF SMOKE

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