Sunday Talks

Sunday Poem By Anjali De Nandi

Now my look My dear capital city is very cool. Now it is under blanket of fog. The Sun light is not present. A single s...

*Greetings Card* Dazzling greetings, warm wishes scrolling Dear ones waiting for mandatory midnight call Alcoholic celeb...

Now my look My dear capital city is very cool. Now it is under blanket of fog. The Sun light is not present. A single s...

Poetic Prisms and Festival: Finding Wings to Creativity It is the spontaneous flow of poweful feelings, as the Romantic...

Her true nightmare... The woman strutted to the tall mirror mounted on the cracked, termite-eaten, wooden cupboard. She...

The Bitter Irony No acrimony. No shudder. No ecstasy. She is inscrutable. She is inexplicable. She is inexorable. She fu...

"Bounce back" An effigy tied, A stick in the arm, Mud pot tilted on the head, A scare crow guarding the houses, To avert...

Stringent fate Each on glance is blank inquisitiveness, all time restless is the infant in the cossy waist lap. The prid...

"The Bewitching Hour" Deep in the dark of night lying awake your image burned into my imagination eyes closed as dreams...