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All writers pen sad stories to garner sympathy, writing is after all for the abandoned of the society: the ink-leech, spewing black blood and sucking innocent souls.

Aporva Kala

All writers pen sad stories to garner sympathy, writing is after all for the abandoned of the society: the ink-leech, spewing black blood and sucking innocent souls.

Aporva Kala
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But you raised a ruckus about and threatened to perform a Julius Caesarian on anybody on anybody who calls April the cruelest month- I was Damn born out of the loins of my father in the spring of April, you claimed. Surgeon, you stood up for the month of buds and bitches like a true Kuon Kunos
Aporva Kala
live a death, die a death
Aporva Kala
Legacy proves ones mettle and one's karma.
Aporva Kala
To each his own. A billion Buddhas. A billion streams of wisdom. All smiling in their anguish.
Aporva Kala
She was finally owned up- it took death as a price for her being accepted.
Aporva Kala
Hume hummed in his head. Reason versus passion- David versus Goliath. Let the Goliath win for one last time. But the world is full of the Davids, the begging bastards, passing of their defeat as a win over the favorites. Why the world sides with the under-doggies. A favorite is nobody's favorite, but one's one. As if he has to pay a toll tax for his tolls.
Aporva Kala
An array of colorful camps dotted the river banks, like a garrison of army on a peace keeping mission. A mini India, many great nations. different people living in the same place, an inversion of the notion of nation.
Aporva Kala
Immortality, thou art a chimerical bridesmaid of life.
Aporva Kala
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