One of those members of the human race who carry milder version of stendhal syndrome within them, I breathe poetry, cinema and stories. Sometimes, all that I exhale finds its way onto paper :)
Letters to S. : The Haunting
The weight of long days at work numbs my senses and showers usually mellow this pain of nothingness for me, S. Long spells of hot water streams seep in through the dry pores of my flaky skin. Inch by inch, I feel this osmosis – a tingling sensation that calms my dormant nausea.
ORG-A(r)TTIC: Murakami and the art of interviewing - 4 tricks to tell better stories
‘So, Tell me something about yourself’ Inevitably, it is one of those questions that we all have answered at least once in our lives while sitting in one of the posh offices or in the virtual worlds of zoom meetings.
- Top Story - December 2022
Letters to S.: The melancholy whores of my mind Top Story - December 2022
I woke up in the middle of the night and felt a strange sensation of skipping a heartbeat. Perhaps, it felt like I was missing an organ so I tried looking for her. She was not beside me and I did not have any recollection of her presence. My eyes wandered deliriously looking for all places that she could be at but there was no trace of her.