When stones begin to speak, they will speak of our love: A poem 

I know I am not an authority on granting verdicts  But I can say our patience deserves full marks  That we have left tracks across the universe  Its memory pangs for our each lifetime, every name  And I know these oars on the stream were predetermined  like encrusted emeralds that didn’t lose glitter  For theContinue reading “When stones begin to speak, they will speak of our love: A poem “

Prakash Saint Paul you keep telling me that you are going and that you are dying. Hahaha! And you keep committing treachery against me. So much so, you had the gall to manipulate and alter universal arrangements to suit your convenience and checkmate me. But I swear, that you will always be Saint Paul the fish from the Piscean deep sea at the South Pole; and nothing can change that!