The earth is barren and dry. She is dragging herself to the grave; Pulling her cross, summoning her crucifixion. Wrinkled skin, flesh rotten within; Her bloody heart bulging out of torn flesh; Dry thirsty lips peeling like flakes of a dry soul. She breathes toxicity of human sins, Drinks black mortal vices, flowing through immortal …
[Short story] Waiting for the whirlwind
The sultry summer weather suddenly disappeared and I found myself under the contour of dark clouds. I was walking by the same fateful Maurice Nagar intersection in North Delhi as Amitav Ghosh recollects in his book “The Great Derangement”. Describing a “grey, tube like extrusion” that came down whiplashing on 17th March 1978, Ghosh in …