A whisper can cut through silence like a blade.
Sometimes, I hear a word in Bangla that I am unfamiliar with and without thinking I say, “hang on, lemme ask my grandma” And then silence, Because then I remember…
Because silence is no longer an option.
I am not a villain. her tormentor told her. I am a hero I help you lose your fear of death.
She sat at the edge of her bedSwinging her feetBeneath her the vast galaxy layThe ripples were felt in every corner of itStars danced around her toes,planets spun around her…
Something I started in class and coloured in, in between sessions of League of Legends.
A visual form of my previous post. In my favourite red pen ^_^
In my memories you dance with me in the rain Under the yellow street lights of Bombay.
“The anger in Love is Hate.”
The night. The night with all its secrets. Glorified euphemisms for sex ranging over the tides that wash over two bodies writhing in ecstasy. A never ending rhythme of stories…