While passing through a railway station
My eyes met many eyes;
Some beautiful, some tired, some fiery,
Some fearful, some cunning, some stunning.
But the one which I...
Yes, we were Friends
He and I
Huddled together in a class
He admired my abilities
I, his enormous wealth
That was in the wake of adolescence
A sort of...
Your inflicted pain
Has developed deep scars in my heart.
I have veiled it from world
Disguises people
Sometimes by laughing
Sometimes by smiling.
Unveils it when alone,
Dresses the deep...
Writing about Indian writing in English. Salman Rushdie in his preface to Vintage Indian writing in English 1947-1997 says,
“the prose writing – both fiction...
