the diary of a dead moth

Given the responsibility of producing a child, the woman with a bowed belly went straight into the OT. She desired long for a baby hoping that she would be her future mainstay. In a man-ridden world, a daughter is quite like a refreshing breeze. The...

A few days ago. I was inside the compartment of Howrah-Puducherry AC Superfast Express. And the world I naturally live in was outside. I overnighted at a dull upper berth, from where nothing could be seen outside. It was past 10 a.m., a golden opportunity...

I'm about to take a walk on a road not taken...
Many lips weave many guesses, and those guesses are but a projection of uncertainty. Those lips may feel free to think that either they're conceptually mine or I'm conceptually theirs.
... But, I'm auctioned off to life which is a tangible mist of whims and a whimsical mist of touches and goes. And amid the whims, guesses choose words, and concepts, wordplay....

Again after a terrible gap I have stumbled upon my own blog. My father is slowly ticking away to the depths of oblivion and his anguish, talking to the silence of the world. Life is so mysterious that much of its content has no definite answer. Struck...