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I sit up a little straight every time your footsteps approach. Pit pat pit pat they come, and then fade away.Always the same. Saunter. That's the word. The smell the sound the touch. The touch of a saunter is creepy. Yet I always forget that when you touch me. Touched me.I have listened for that… Continue reading The Unchosen
Till a while ago, whenever I looked down from a high ledge, I'd retreat, afraid of a fall. Now, I enjoy looking down from this abandoned balcony without rails, strewn with blood-red broken chairs. Down below another abandoned balcony comes into view. Shadows deepen in the woods, clouds rumble in the sky. And in the… Continue reading Raai, Awake 5: Translating Ritam Sen’s Jaago Raai
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