The woman who viewed my life on-screen, said, she cried in class retelling it. She asked me, have I at any time smiled thereafter ! She is from India. On the final evening of my life, I walked away from home in the direction of Syria. I coaxed my legs, assuring it of meeting a father somewhere. I walked towards[Read More…]

The fervour of coming back, and the inbuilt resilience of the exiles, to mould from the debris, that was whatever, that forced us back ahead the end of war.   Even the coming back to a defeated homeland was enthralling, we built tall dreams en route, clinging to mirages, as though, nothing came about, and sought ways to wipe out[Read More…]

That was at what time, our mother said, “we were working out on a journey with friends and relatives.” We were joyful. We departed by picking lonesome paths, that carried eerie charge. I was but eight.   Mother said, people walked all the way through wars. It was in contrast to whatever we conceived it to be. We did not[Read More…]