The Road to Cemetery (Part 2)

I don’t know, what it was about the big black being, because I suddenly felt an obsessive need to see my Mother – even if it meant for me to be seeing the scorn on her face that she held for me – the scorn that I have always wanted to refute, and get away…

The Road To Cemetery (Part 1)

Early on, She had suggested that I never get emotionally entangled with any of the eyes that I come across, on the way, because it could land me in deep trouble. I was the kind who could not risk being utterly involved – especially when it came to men. Men, there have been all kinds…

Non-Healing

Funny, isn’t it? Contrary to everything my role-models in the field of medicine and technology propose, I speak here, not of healing, but of non-healing. I am perfectly aware that a vast supply of information is made available on the subject of grief, suffering and ‘healing’ – as though what they term ‘healing’ was a…

Refuge

The more conscience you’re loaded with, the more painful the journey becomes. Hyenas have a special radar for conscience, because it gives them the means to exploit the ones who possess it. He was a good boy, and he had been visiting the hospital with his sick brother. In his eyes, I saw my own…

Burial

Having abandoned a life of odd striptease, I have finally found the courage to stare square. I have never really spoken about it. I don’t know how men entered my life and I was transformed into shipwreck, aided by their women. Bit by bit, stripping me down, taking pinch after pinch, and laying scratch after…

FORBIDDEN

BY PRADIPTA DUTTA (COPYRIGHTS2017) That fateful day – when I was just a teenager who had been badly broken by the tragedies of her life – I met Miriam. I had been badly wounded, in every sense of the word, and my hitherto balance had been lost, at that tender age of 16. As a…

Daadi – Grandma

  by pradipta dutta  (COPYRIGHTS 2017)   “Yes.” She said, as she turned back and smiled at me. I never understood why she always said, things, sometimes, in the middle of the silence – looking at me – while I would be absorbed in some work or some thought. It was as if, she was…