Foreign Tongues
A psychotherapist’s office is a strangely plain place. No big beige armchairs or comfy couches romanticized in popular culture as having the secret power to bring forth the darkest demons of the ailed person’s...
A psychotherapist’s office is a strangely plain place. No big beige armchairs or comfy couches romanticized in popular culture as having the secret power to bring forth the darkest demons of the ailed person’s...
I let my gaze linger at him in a very decided fashion until he noticed that he was the subject of my fascination. Ten minutes down the staring contest, he smoothly pointed towards a...
It was a Saturday night; I was out with a bunch of friends in one of the happening café-by-day/club-by-night places in the popular concentric-circled, white-columned Connaught Place of Lutyens’ Delhi. Dim lights, loud music, the rattle...