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Poetry: The Heart And The Brain.

In the old, brain vs heart debate, don’t we make the mistake of unfairly blaming the heart for things that aren’t really its fault? This is just a glorification of the brain of the emotional people who are often mistaken for...
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Poetry- Waiting For The Rust.

When some things are so firmly welded together that they cannot be parted, one must wait for the rust to eat away the chains. Our voices are rust They grind upon each other Never permeating, never getting through. Our faces are...
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How To Come Out Of The Closet. coming out

How To Come Out Of The Closet.

The entire ‘coming out’ issue has become a coming-of-age ritual for LGBT teens. But is this whole ritual necessary? If yes, why? And how do you go about it? Read on. (You probably don’t need to be told this but…)...
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Poetry: Learning to Grieve. grieve

Poetry: Learning to Grieve.

A poem that was a product of contemplation on the looming tragedy in Paris, on how everyone seems bent upon teaching everyone else how to grieve ‘properly’, and a repeated listening of John Lennon’s “Imagine.” But it didn’t really make...
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Aromanticsm: The Other Kind Of Love. Aromanticsm

Aromanticsm: The Other Kind Of Love.

I wasn’t quite sure about the title of this article because I don’t really know whether this is the standard definition of aromanticism. I am just highlighting some specific points of aromanticism, but I do not think that I’ll be...
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Making Friends: The Unspoken Rules. friends

Making Friends: The Unspoken Rules.

“I don’t have friends,” Sherlock had once snarled at John. John, quite rightly had been awfully offended, murmured “Wonder why,” and walked away. The thing is, John doesn’t have many friends either apart from Sherlock. So while it’s okay to...
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The Muse: A Short Story muse

The Muse: A Short Story

The first step was to decide the spot. Not all places in the body hurt equally. Also one had to consider the purpose. If the whole world was supposed to witness the pain, the forearm was the most suitable spot....
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A Meeting With Mr. Sherlock Holmes. sherlock holmes

A Meeting With Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

The day was drawing to a close and I found myself sitting aimlessly on a nice roadside bench. Well, I call it ‘nice’ because it provided me a quiet atmosphere to read a book while waiting for a bus. The...
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An Ocean Romance: A Short Story.

It was a spring morning when she sat down on a park bench beside a young girl of thirteen. The girl looked up briefly to catch a glimpse of the woman sitting beside her on the waiting room bench. ‘Beautiful...
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The Slow Mirror: A Short Story mirror

The Slow Mirror: A Short Story

Uma noticed it first when she was five. Yes, she had seen it before that many times. She used to play with it when she was a kid but it first struck her as something unnatural when she was five....
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