http://slow.writerscafe.org/rakeshsengupta The original writings of author Rakesh Sengupta en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776019038 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Just a skyrim fanfiction. From lost journals of the last dragonborn. It might be obscure for those who have not played the game. Probably will write a more accessible version if this goes well. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1936908/ A solitary girl, standing in the middle of a drizzle against any backdrop with her back to you, comes closest to a pure idea. You should not slap a face or a narrative on her. Else, what was poised on the brink of sublime will break and she will turn around and end your selfish fantasy.I loved her a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1212119/ On one of the weekends during my semester long stay in Rovereto, I took a trip to Bologna to meet my friend A. In the evening we had ventured towards the center of the city where stands the oldest educational institution in the western world. Inspite of the medieval architecture, the city came alive.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201767/ It was years before the red wall of West Bengal would fall that I was waiting for the girl who would become my wife, ex-wife, and one of my best friends for life. I was standing in front of my college in the middle of so called College Street or the book alley. It was November, no chill in the air t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201759/ I always negotiate with silences. I always found silences to be ominous - not in a big way, but in a way of feeling trapped by forces I did not understand. Our room was separated from my father's workshop by a three-inch wall, beyond which the designer bra-cum-tape producing machines and men clamore.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201745/ In my whole life I have written only one single journal entry, that was when my maternal grandfather died. He was hunchbacked, blind in one eye, untreated cataract in another, senile and delusional. He is my first and greatest hero. If you ask me the reason why, I can not say exactly. Probably it wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201743/ I grew up in house with a solitary chair. It was the one in the room of my second maternal uncle - the one who made living by fixing radios back then. In spite of suffering a few falls in my hand, for years it served as a seat for my third uncle's friends -especially the one with the first and only .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201741/ I have always secretly hated the word 'also'. The word so innocuously pejorative, innocently offensive, that it almost always escapes one's notice. I am also special! I am also important! Who thinks in these terms, other than those deprived of the faculty of self-esteem and those subjected to a seri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201739/ A slice of life journey crossing decades and continents told in snapshots. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rakeshsengupta/1201738/