When handwritten letters were the order of the day, some men took all the pains of emulating a good handwriting.
It was the usual routine. Today was the seventeenth day. Smriti came back from the hospital, crashed down on the soft royal blue sofa. Mini
I squirm in my bed / Forget the metaphors, the similes / Allusions, images / Whips after whips of remembering the dead,
nature’s silence alone restores mental and physical balance like none other. But far away from these natural surrounds where most of humanity is cooped up
Priyanath Mukhopadhyay (1855-1947) was a real-life police officer who published First Person accounts of his exploits.
