It was all black
so we lit a candle
we placed it on the table
and sat by it quietly
for the wonderful joy
of watching the flame.
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.
Friday, April 26, 2013
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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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At night at night you're not here at night at night you're not here any more than day at night you're not here no more do I dre...
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The steam from the black coffee rose in a jagged, translucent swirl, a ghost of heat against the sharpening chill of the Dehradun morning. I...
