Prose & Poetry 

Diary Entry – December 24th. ( Storm’s Song) Some days, the city feels too loud, too fast – and yet, it’s inside my car that I hear the world clearest. There’s a hum that welcomes me as I slip into Storm’s embrace, my hands brushing cool, familiar lines. It’s a sound I crave, as steady as rain on the roof, as constant as a heartbeat under skin. I turn the key and for a moment, everything inside me hushes. The VW, My VW – Storm – responds with that soft, living vibration, as i

There’s a softness to the evening, a hush stretching over the city as shadows grow long. Tonight, I hum not out of habit, but out of longing — for company, for curiosity, for the thrill of the road and the memories pressed into my seats. I am Storm, a VW. And I remember every hand that has held my wheel, every foot that has flirted with my accelerator. Tonight, as engines everywhere wind down, my own heart begins to hum its gentle song: not merely mechanical, but a whisper, a

In my family, cars were never just machines; they were practically relatives, living and breathing through us. Formula One race weekends turned our home into a buzzing paddock — the living room echoing with engine noise, strategy debates over dinner, and wild cheers each time a dark horse stole the spotlight on a rain-soaked track. My elder cousins listed every F1 champion from memory, each symbolizing dreams yet to be chased. I grew up immersed in this world where motorsport

A gentle wave softly caresses your blistered feet, Do you feel the soft yet sharp vapors kiss your face? Suddenly you are being dragged...

WRITTEN BY, R. MAHIMA RAM

Deeper than the deepest oceans, Portraying a thousand and one emotions, Windows to the soul, they say, You shall find a universe hidden...

A rain stomps through, crushing and flooding everything in her path, the farmers' tears fall, only to be washed away without a trace. For...

I was sitting at home; the place reeked of boredom, while waiting for the Covid19 Lock-down to end. It was really hectic, I’m a teenager, so basically it goes like this; one day I get into a fight with my mom, the other with my dad, and on one day with both of them. To top it all off I have a younger brother who keeps nagging me and then I nag him back. So one day my Nana gave me this topic to write about “What Do Children Expect from Their Parents?” Then when I sat down to

I learned to drive when I was in my first year of college, But life had other plans. There was no car at home, so my freshly minted driving skills were carefully folded away and tucked into a corner of my life, like a certificate no one ever asked to see. Marriage and motherhood shifted my world to routines, bus rides, and family schedules. My kids Mahima and Medhansh filled my days; driving faded away into the background.  My husband is an ace driver, he drove on the roads w

A landlord raises the rent without warning. Next door, a family packs decades into cardboard boxes. Their children stare at the stairs they’ll never climb again. We hold the door, avoid their eyes, murmur about traffic. And later, alone, we tell ourselves “There was nothing I could say that would change it.” A man is beaten in a video we scroll past twice. The caption says perhaps it was for his name, his prayer, his rumor. We lower the volume but not our gaze, like watching