The Ghost contd…

Introduction:   A guy I once had a thing with had accused me of being heartless; had said: “You feed off pain, yours, mine and everyone else’s. That is the food for your poetry and prose; the nectar to your hive.” I don’t disagree with him. I am no preacher and neither do I pretend to be something holier than thou. I am just a … Continue reading The Ghost contd…

The Ghost

The bespeckled therapist gave me a puzzled look. She asked—anger at what child? Anger at what? At who? Why anger? Why not tolerance? “If I knew that I wouldn’t be here”. I am an expert at being rude and unpleasant when the situation demands it. There was a ghost in my life. The clinical term for it is ‘dysthymia or chronic depression.’ It had haunted … Continue reading The Ghost

All that is not glamorous

“Did you take your meds?” the good doctor asked. I sniffed over the phone and wiped away two drops of tears from my left eye before answering, “twice the double dose.” “Okay.” She obviously didn’t approve of my choice of dealing with ‘stuff’. “Can I take another of those?” I asked her. I didn’t care about what it did to my physical health….i was just … Continue reading All that is not glamorous

The editor’s tale

It’s not always that I get to open my laptop and scrutinize the work of others. Today, after procrastinating and coming to terms with the weight on my shoulders, I finally sat down with a cup of black coffee and read the first line of some obscure article. It made me cringe- not in disgust but in apprehension. Someone out there, at some point in … Continue reading The editor’s tale

Interior monologues on a full moon night

  White is an oppressive color. 3 am and the familiar mental buzzing is all it takes to dissolve the writer’s block. Caring is good, or so they say. How about just disappearing? Don’t pack; just run. Escapism- that is the way to survive. And we call the symbolists depressing. Do you my friend see what I see? The haze and the mist in all … Continue reading Interior monologues on a full moon night

Dawn

Midnight- Camera flashes. Music blares from the speakers. Conversation turns into babble. The vodka and tonic hits. The speed thrills. The lights blur. Empty. That’s how she feels.   Dawn- birds chirp. Head hurts. Stomach growls. Sleep comes. The mind tickles. Hands tremor. Darkness. She draws the curtain.   Afternoon- Heat prickles. Head pounds. Memory of last night is a big question mark. Facebook tells … Continue reading Dawn