A Literary Magazine
Don't tell me if this road is difficult.I have been patient for long.Just tell me, if it reaches there.Where my heart would fee . . .
When my age increases, my age of memory comes down to twenty-one days. And it happens so circularly that even the rateOf incre . . .
" I am you, save me "lay those words, in boldin the book beside the bedevery morning without fail.Doesn't matter, which dayD . . .
I was six or seven, mother ,when I tried to kill your sisterI would have resulted on some serious harm on her part if grandma . . .
In the briefness of it,We strive, if only possible,To make every moment count.And of all the ways to do it,The thought of havi . . .