Tag: home


Four corners I have In one are buried my ancestors.   In the next There sleeps a cooking pot.   Over the third thatched roof has a hole through that rain and sun peep, There is also a plastic flower, brought from fair ages ago, now Sullied with soot.   And in the  darkest There is a cot, lousy Worm-infested, And when when we sit It creaks.


Top Comments

Subhash Chandra
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"A gifted writer"

A gifted versetile writer who writes excellent stories and poems on the invisibles, pariahs, margins, aged, weaklings of our society. A rising star on the literary firmament.
Santosh Bakaya
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Praise for my writing

“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
Louis Kasatkin
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Praise for my poem "Elderly Men Two"

"A finely honed observational piece recording the minutiae of everyday life. Rendered with the author’s customary poetic aplomb suffused with a Borges like quality of the mythic."