After wading through countless topics related to every living being’s inherent ability to self-heal through Yoga, I have finally decided to give in to the process. The process as an ‘Acharya’ states is called ‘Reversal’. Imagine you are a person void of technology, holed up
With one side of my face paralyzed I have often been misunderstood by people. My smiling would be mistaken for a smirk. Some have wondered if I was grimacing at something that they said or sneering at them for some reason. Come to think of
I no longer feel my tears when they roll down my cheek on the left side of my face. It is a rare feeling per se, for when a teardrop does fall, it remains stranded on the precipice of my eyelashes whilst my eyes don’t
I often find myself being riled up by a constant foreboding owing to my recent severe headaches. I remember the day I was hit by it. I was working on my computer, been staring at the screen for a long time, for I code, which
I have heard this probably a thousand times from people, cursing the weather, the traffic, the situation they are in, complaining and cribbing about other people, about their pain, about how insignificant they feel, comparing their lives with others, drooling over things they believe they
I remember some time ago, chasing many dreams. Venturing out into battles, with whatever little I had. The bloke was hungry. He had seen blood dripping out of so many mouths, that he wanted to see how it felt like. There was an insatiable pep
Even as the Covidian epoch perishes, and we slither into another elusive timeline, it’s hard not to introspect our actions. Goes without saying, it makes us apprehensive of the things that lay in store for us. What we as humans can possibly do is hope.
Sometimes I am scared of what I might become. What if I forget my modus operandi. Can an artist forget his trait? I started off to be a writer, now an array of vocations caper about on my dashboard. The inclination towards direction affects my
Power is control –A shard of mythThat you think you own,But you are a marionetteDangling at fate’s behest.You think you moved?You are pushed.You think you are quiet?You have been silenced.Think you have spoken?You have been forced to scream –A painful bellow,You have been marked yellowFor
I have seen mighty minds crumble, the sane go insane, and the resolute losing their temper, the brave becoming wimps, faces being forgotten and children absconding. Now that I think of it, all of it has happened around me. When I dip my head into