He sat with his hands folded in salutation. Once a while, a pair of legs would pass by him. He’d put out his open palms asking for alms. Sometimes, someone would drop a fruit or a sweet, other times a couple of coins. Some would walk away without leaving anything behind. Every time he’d getContinue reading “Bed of thorns.”
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The Poetry of Life.
She awoke to the Tyndall effect the rays from the nearest star made in her small room. She could see the dust particles dancing around each other. She wondered how much of it was cosmic. She smiled. On her way to work, she bought more than a couple of roses from the young boy at the crossing. TheContinue reading “The Poetry of Life.”
Inking The Thinking. 