On a Cloudy November Day
The only way forward is inward and outward; Inward through the alleys of self-doubts and ill interpretation; Outward like arms embracing infinity, millions
Human
Not a day goes without me wondering about how messy an affair it is to be human. The emotional turmoil...
The Thing
[Third place winner in the Synapse Storytelling Contest poetry category.] They walked long and sinuous paths Alone on the roads...
Untethered Hate
Even the most callous version of me is not entirely comfortable with using the word “hate” in a mundane setting...
Holy Resurrection
persevere years on end, to Failure’s amusement Impious
Children of the Lost Patriarchy
What do you say to the fatherless ones on Fathers Day? Do you look them in their long-lost eyes and...
Expiry Dates
“So, do you think that thoughts die like how living things do?” asked the Boy. The Man that faced him...