Godhuli Nanda
-
Souls with holes
Few days back, while on a video call with my sister, a term emerged which waxed my head all philosophical. My dearest sibling and the propounder of the phrase, created a quite creative antonym for what we may call as pure souls. She declared the misfits, the ones who scream dangerous feelings as ‘Souls with…
Written by

-
Roots, I call mine
My home is tucked in the middle of trees and flowers that my mother has lovingly planted for years. It’s a small pink Bungalow which has seen its children play in the mud, cycling in front of it, making wonderful memories and finally growing up. It has seen changing seasons, the torment of continuous rain,…
Written by

-
Departure from phantasm
Somedays, most days I wish I could bottle my memories. Like heady scents, it shall linger on my senses, wash over my face, breath and eyes. Like melody would run through my courses, blood would shiver with the enraptured invasion. Captured memories would sing to me on terrible nights. Melancholy solitary bride, who would smile…
Written by

-
Beyond transcendence
It is I, who picked up the broken pieces, shredded across for the audience. While the world merry, didn’t gauge the blank pages, I made do with what remained. It is I, who looked across the shattered soul, scattered across for the lying depths. While the fools oblivious, to see the hollowness in the eyes,…
Written by

-
Euphoric Disdain
Dejected, head screams thoughts, thou shall not know. Beckons into a dark path, into abyss. Lands which are shadows. Shadows speak slow. Despondent, heart rumbles with rain, in thy pain. Blood rain, of merciless mindless mercenary. Catastrophe, beautiful nauseous strikes. Strikes fine chords. Dispirited, hands shiver, think of thee, think of madness. Jungle, no sense…
Written by





