Category: prose

Can't blame the world for what I have become. It's all my own doing. I am no victim of the circumstances. Fuck circumstances. I am all that I did. And what all did I do. A hell lot of shit. But I am no victim. I am good as I am. Of course, I've had [...]

Been writing in this journal of mine since last one year. It has been one fucking hell of a journey. 213 pages of blood and tears and all things raw. This journal will form the basis of my first work of prose. Earlier, I thought I would just publish my journal as it is - [...]

Hammer upon hammer. Nail upon nail. All this pent up rage will burst some day. Upon whom, upon what, I cannot say. Every minute hurts. Every hour lived is just so absurd. There is so much to do, and what am I doing. And why am I doing it. These aren't questions meant to be [...]

Slowly, the reservoir breaks. Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink. Slowly, the river gets heavier and heavier. It has become so heavy, it needs to spit out. Slowly, the river enters our cities. It's early morning and we are not ready to drown. It's late at night and we are not ready [...]

There's hell on either side. There's hell within and outside. There's hell on these roads. There's hell swimming in these rivers. There's hell getting sold in the supermarkets. There's hell in their silences and in their talks. There's hell in what they never say to anyone. There's hell on their tongues and in their acts. [...]

One man after another. One phone call after another. One file after another. One document after another. One signature after another. One hour after another. One minute after another. One complaint after another. One explanation after another. One meeting after another. One message after another. One voice after another. One bullshit talk after another. One [...]

Something doesn't feel right on the days I am not suffering. Imagine how hard the axe of life would have hit me to want all the sufferings for myself. I sit full of hunger on a Sunday evening. I sit and I want more than just sitting. I want the pleasures of being beaten down. [...]

Why does it feel so heavy in my head these days. Why is there always something that remains to be done. Why can't this coffee be a bit more bitter. Why is it that it always rains here, but there never is a rainbow. Why does this city smell of disgust and death and rot. [...]

The day began on an alright note. For a moment, I thought this is it. No more bad days. Shit is behind me. But then, shit turned upside down in no time. Shit turned on me even before noon. All this makes me wonder - have I grown totally senseless? Can I feel anything at [...]

Believe me when I say it. Three bad days in a row is totally unlike two bad days in a row. By the third day, you stop caring. You become eerily quiet. You utter words but only in response. You wouldn't want to say anything of your own will. And your responses are to the [...]