You did not leave me hollow Not even one bit so- For what was love once; had disappeared In its place, nothingness lived now- High and low. High and low.
The white stick demanded to be smoked, it was luring me somehow and images of my father smoking one at the end of every day inspired me. Most sons try to impersonate their fathers, in matters good and bad, they are their heroes, after all. I smoked one, the first drag parched my throat, a cough rose from my belly, but I desperately tried to suppress it.
There are three kinds of people in the world- Those who fear intoxication. They stay as far away from it as possible. Some hate the whole concept of it while others do not despise it, but they themselves steer clear of intoxication. Those who embrace it. Acknowledge it. Not so much as to be … Continue reading 5_minute_story-VII
There is a phrase in Bengali, "Beshi bhalo, bhalo noi" meaning too much of anything good is definitely not better. It is almost 3:30 am and suddenly I thought of doing a quick post. During my four year term in college, I found myself becoming an addict; no, not the hardcore drug one but not … Continue reading Hallucinating confessions of an addict
The wind kissed my face sternly for one last time as if to bid me the final farewell. I am surrounded by my friends sitting atop a platform on the roof of our beloved hostel. Four years ago, I was terrified of this insipid place and yet today I am here; wishing if time could … Continue reading The Last Sunshine