Straight lines
I watch them quietly
they are everywhere
whichever way I turn
whenever I scan the rooms
to understand more
they live around corners
and turn with a parallel force
in the shoe box
on the floors, on roofs
along fingers and toes
down the railway tracks
in your most hidden alleys
sometimes they sit across me
looking strong, confident
elsewhere they are like anyone else
longing for dimension
waiting for their time to come
hoping to sleep
wanting to smile.
Official Website and Blog for Shaleen Rakesh, an indie author based in Dehradun, India. Shaleen is a writer and recursive observer of the shifting Himalayan landscape, whose work interrogates the friction between geologic time and the fragile architecture of human memory. Deeply rooted in the ecological and psychological terrain of the Doon Valley, his prose functions as a diagnostic for the Anthropocene—charting the rain of ash that defines modern loss.
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खुले नीले आस्मां तले हवा ने अपने पंख खोले और तुम्हारी मुस्कान से चले एक राह निकली है मुझतक तुम्हारे ...
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A brick is made of earth and therefore it has no independent existence. It's existence is derived from the earth itself. The brick is th...

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