a poem on love, beauty,death.
Gone were the days When men swarmed her hut, And passed metamorphic nights. She was a peerless beauty, Tall and stout, and an
An Old Man on a Wooden Bridge An old man sat on an old wooden bridge amid the forest deep Beneath ran a hidden mossy
At Kunjanagar beside the potholed street stood I at blazing sunset lone. The orange cloudlets scattered the western horizon. Slowly evening descended, and tiny dew
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.
“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
"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."