The Lost Son
- by Mrinal Kalita
- His name was Karna. Karna, the abandoned. The bearer of wrongs, the silent prince. Majestic in his...
- July 31, 2015
In the madness midst the universe, if I don’t succumb to the desires, then I am a human. Take me to a church or
As his last days creep slowly, yet surely closer, Mr. Smith contemplates conflict. What is conflict? He asks himself. A few moments of pondering bring
दो दिन की लगातार बारिश ने गर्मी से तपते इंसान को आनंद की अनुभूति तो करायी ही साथ ही बिजली विभाग वाले भी लोकोपकारी प्रतीत
‘She’s human!’ As we sat awaiting a train, In a hazy cross-walk, She made her way. Inebriated was she? I could not tell. Draped in
You may begin, “Well, that’s like having a cigarette and just when I’m about to finish it, I have the urge of taking another one.”
The girl walked sensuously on the road, swaying her hips a little too explicitly for the modesty of the passersby. She 6+wore a skin-hugging top
As I entered the narrow unevolved streets of old Delhi, the butterflies in my stomach transformed into gigantic monsters. The sooty air made it hard
They handcuffed me and shoved me into the back of the police van. The newspapers would be flashing my name by tomorrow; a few news
“ This is all starting to really bother me now. Do you even hear yourself? You are obsessed with this visualization thing of yours. You