Pulkit Singh tries to find meaning in what she feels may be the end of the road for her.
We called it our aeroplane. The epithet was misplaced. It should have been rocket- equally temperamental and majestic. That was my father’s white ambassador- his first car. It looked massive to my six-year-old self. You could roll down the dark tinted windows, honk its horn, play hide and seek in it and if you were … Continue reading No Appetite For Seconds
Pulkit Singh dedicates this poem to her marriage of ten years.
Mahendra Rathod pens this humourous piece about friendship, bachelor days and a married makeover.
The teens and the twenties are the price we pay for the thirties.
Those evenings were a proof of a love that I have never known since...
Nikita Banerjee takes us on a culinary trip as she remembers her grandmothers and the food from her childhood.
All she wants is to travel. Why is that so hard?
The only way is forward. Yes?
There is a shelf. Where her dreams go to die. Wrapped with expensive gift paper. Coated liberally with the colours of psycedelia. Death is nothing, if not beautiful, eh? There is a shelf. Browse along. There is that one peeking from behind the cascading 'string of pearls' the one where captured movement and memories in … Continue reading The Quiet
What is your shade of being? Dekohled delves into the hues that make up a personality. What does she find?
A young man leaves the Indian shores on his maiden foreign trip. What does he learn? A lot it seems. Mahendra Rathod reminisces about that trip he made many years ago.
Ghost89er spins a poem in appreciation for that one person who was the constant in his life like the 'ayat'- when all the chaos that the universe could muster was encapsulated in him.
Pulkit Singh gets a reality check when her daughter calls billboards-the big TVs, the first time she sees them. Can living in small towns set you behind the times?
So Much Said Without Saying A Word
The Thug Life moment of a lifelong upright girl
How To Use Fauji(army) logic In Real Life Situations.
Why I will die next to a pile of books.
What was the whole purpose of vacations?