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
Pulkit Singh tries to capture the magical book that tries to defy the conventional outlines of a review.
How does a book about the world's most exquisite tea fare?
Why I will die next to a pile of books.