The dreams I dream

Dreams are inexplicable animals. They have a way of affecting us, like few things can. They make sense only to us. Asleep, we are defenseless. The normal barriers that we erect around us, the rationalizations that keep us sane, collapse, come nightfall. Being a part of civilization requires compromises on a daily basis. We play…

Waiting for life…

‘When the garlands wither on your brow, boast no more your mighty deeds, for- So many of yesterday’s heroes crumble…’ In the short story ‘The garland on his brow’, the famous Anglo-Indian writer Ruskin Bond mentions the yesteryears of his protagonist in a way that is harsh, painful and yet beautiful in its’ own right.…