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A collection of short fictions -- a miscellany of the aprocryphal and grim -- including a couple that reference the author's previously-published brain-in-the-vat stories....

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Winifred starts her story off in the first person, to create a personable feel for the reader; she then changed her story to the third person as it reads like fiction with all the colorful characters evolving. The reader must remember that everything in this story is actual facts of what happened in Winifred’s life; hence the story is a historical document as well. It is delightful to read, heartfelt, funny and also at times will have you in tears so be ready with your tissue boxes....

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The light and the dark shadows danced in grotesque shapes on the freshly painted green and cream walls, at times, reaching out, in mythical movements, towards the well baked off-white of the ceiling. A loud ticking alarm clock, from its place of importance on the mantle-piece, disturbed the silence of the room, acting like a hypnotist’s metronome on the man sleeping in the deep old fashioned arm chair. Singed hair tumbled boyishly about his once handsome face. The slightest movement he made brought sounds of moaning from swollen lips. Flashing firelight revealed the cause of the pain. Blisters that hung in bunches’ like grapes, almost the size of walnuts, decorated his shoulder and wove themselves right down one side of his body. I slowly opened the door so as not to disturb my father and tip-toed my way across towards the wreckage of human flesh slumped on the chair. I was a child of seven with large curls of hair that ran down to my shoulders now sparkling gold in the bright glow of the flickering firelight. I had large blue eyes that held the fathoms of the ages in them; such was the wisdom bestowed upon me. Looking at my fat...

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There is no good war. All war is hideous. munir is a novel about Baghdad under Occupation. It is a story detailing the tragic intersection of intelligence personnel, militants, and Iraqi millennials....

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“Ah!” Majid exclaimed, realizing where they were. Spying their favorite nook in the city, Majid approached the cozy concrete to kick back. Munir had noticed this quotidian wonder many years ago when he was working part-time as a delivery boy. One ‘precision’ strike in 1991, courtesy of a 35-year-old B-52 bomber, had taken out a homeless shelter. The blast had also carved the ideal reading nook out of an adjacent wall. The shelter was eventually rebuilt, but the wall remained damaged and crumbling....

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This compilation of 56 fictional stories has been interspersed, with a view to categorize these independent theme-based entertaining bits of literature, created by the author for that type of readers who do not like lengthy novels/stories. However, the three sections, namely Micro Stories, Short Stories and Long Tale trifurcating the complete book indicate to the fact that the author kept in mind the immediate availability of the time at the disposal of his valued reader at that hour of the `ever-fleeing` time. It has also been kept in mind that the piquant captians should be worth the substance below thereof. The reader may choose beforehand `the captivating item` from the List of contents provided separately for every category, vis a vis Micro Stories, Short Stories or Long Tales. My beliefs: Endowed with the personality that always remains inclined towards the truest secularism, I cannot afford to prefer one religion over the other. Therefore, it is not a difficult task for me to interact with a person of any faith. I cannot skip from my tract of `humanity before religion`. Being a firm believer in the existence of a `Supre...

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Female spouse of one’s brother is called `sister-in-law`; similarly the sister of one’s spouse is sister-in-law. Again, the wife of one’s brother-in-law is also called sister-in-law, subject however to the condition that the said brother-in-law is not the husband of one’s own sister. Thus, in Indian society, we find a vast variety of sister-in-law. However, one factor of commonality is often found in the cases where at both ends of this relationship, we have females. They say that this factor provides sauce to our family life, by swift maneuvers of their inimical or endearing postures towards each other. The author has picked up every variety of this relationship from the middle-class stratum of Indian society, while sketching his story for this fictional narration. However, in a given situation, we feel like addressing or being addressed as `MUY DEAR SISTER-IN-LAW`. To take the story forward, the author has tried his best to strew certain suchlike expressions coming forth sporadically, uttered by one or the other character, irrespective of his/her sex. ...

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Perched in his wheelchair, at the moment on 30th June, 2007, this erstwhile lover of Maya -law. Of course, this infirm oldie his first ever acquaintance with Vibha Ratra took place, when his family ... Our mother, though surprised to be getting acquainted by her son to Mrs Wilson as the bride's mother, chose to maintain silence about her knowledge of that lady's `swarthy` reputation in the residential vicinity, during their adolescence. Instead of consoling his father in a socially approved manner, the arrogant son had yelled out at the top of his voice, "Papa, you have had enough of her during the past 45 years. In case, you still need a woman's company, there is no dearth of this lot to provide warmth to your body. The following day, while exiting from the faculty meet, Vibha marked that Dr Rawat looked eager to join her, while she was proceeding towards the group of some junior teachers of her department, already waiting for their head of the department. Really, it's an agonizing account," Madhukar ejaculated following a long sigh. After a short while, he resumes, "You can bank upon, this humble friend for all support, whenev...

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This novel is based on the plot that describes the life of a young lady having worked as Assistant Professor at the University level. These days, she is engaged by a Trust, interested in promoting `mental illumination through peace of mind and self-confidence. She is going places to deliver lectures, keep in mind the aims of the organization as well as the composition of the audiences. In fact, since her infancy she is on the move from one part of India to another, even having no idea of the identity of the couple who parented her. Having been reared up by a domestic maid, she was obliged to inherit this type of job to earn for her livelihood. The onset of puberty in the proximity of unrelated men was to be withstood with caution and care for her chastity. These tours of lecturing around, once make her find a known lady in her audience in Delhi. This incident opens her the way to meet many people in this big city and take her to the person who fathered her. Here, she also gets the truthful information about her mother. ...

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Dear Madhu Ji, On my way back home I recapitulated, as my routine exercise, the discussions at the Coffee House. Can you recall the reaction of Mr Malik to Lal's outburst against the final outcome of Dhananjay Chakrovarty's legal battle to ward off the Capital punishment pronounced on him for rape and murder of a minor girl, when he himself was just 21 years? ……………..." I suppose Mr. Malik came out with some amusing retort, which made almost the entire group at the table giggle and I could not make out anything but only observe Mr. Malik move towards the toilets. Respected Sir, I clearly heard your `Guruji`, I mean Mr Malik, murmur aloud, “Is there any punishment available to your civilized society to punish an errant woman who voluntarily and actively seduces and commits rape on an innocent, uninitiated and in the prime of his youth?” “Do you mean a rape amongst a Lesbian fraternity?” Mr. Lal Singh speaks out smilingly. Mr. Malik simply hung his head down and spoke in his normal pitch, “I mean, on a companion belonging to the opposite sex.” Having uttered these words Guruji peacefully got up and moved in a gentle pace towards pu...

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Two bank employees, one married male and the other unmarried female happened to mark affinity for self in the other. This unmarried person was the boss of the other one. In view of the mutual affinity, this boss visited the other’s residence for delivering in person the `invite` on the occasion of her marriage with an NRI doctor. In a couple of years, the marriage of both these persons reached the stage of irretrievable breakdown, as both were feeling suffocated with the behaviour and attitude of their spouses. By the by, they happen to divulge to each other the emotional injuries suffered at the hands of their respective callous spouses. However, they happen to be neighbours by virtue of the flat allotted to them by their bank under the self-financing scheme for its employees envisaged to reach them a surprise bonanza in a unique `no profit, no lost` basis. The events at the inlaws family in the case of both of thembrought them physically closer, with the blessings of their parents. Thus, they happen to be `a circumstantially evolved couple`....

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“It appears to me that almost every religion tends to circumscribe the reasoning potentials of its followers. The self-styled custodian of the religious beliefs would not take it upon himself as a duty to seek the explanations of the `deviating folk`, unless an explosive situation emerges,” Nidhi expresses her opinion in the presence of the lone listener … She says, “Even at this moment, some kuchcha structure is visible. A notice board is also clearly visible from here. I think, let’s move towards that hut, to check, if that hermit is still using that hutment even after a period of fifty five years has gone by.” He looks undecided, but his wife almost drags him towards that sign-board. It reads the same contents. The door seems to have been bolted from inside. They move away awfully, lest they disturb the hermit’s peace. …. Nidhi often happens to recall her days when she had once heard from Anirudh that Smriti’s father is a doctor in a government dispensary and has been living an ostentatious type of life. It had resulted in his daughter always complaining of the total absence of modern amenities for leading `a moderately c...

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This moderately sized novel opens before the reader, with an episode that took place, when after having driven over a hundred kilometers relating to the pleasure trip from Delhi to Kosani, a tourist resort situated in the Kumayun Hills a range of the Himalayas in the North of India, being undertaken by a group of very intimate three unwed oldies, all retired college teachers, when one of them is accosted by the owner of the roadside `Dhaba` (an indigenous restaurant) where they had halted for refreshment. It triggers one of them to recall his boyhood days. Again, at their destination, the other one is accosted by an ex-girlfriend of his, in the distant past. The `trio` who are given to such type of tours, happen to meet two other ladies, while staying in a very beautiful zone of Goa. Here, each of these women have had been connected with either of the two other Professors, who hasn’t yet met any such female pupil of his, during the various other tours, undertaken by them the `trio` till then. These chance meetings brings forth during the next few years, a bond of a purpose for a meaningful solidarity, eventually turning int...

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This story whirls around plot that opens up when two ex-classmates happen to meet inadvertently, one on his official duty, while the other on past-time, enjoying holiday touring alone. Their next meeting, brings a female classfellow of theirs at the hill-station to make them enjoy one another’s company. This re-union continues to grow further during the years that follow. The author portrays just an account of certain events taking shape in the social sectors of these persons, making, breaking or remaking a marriage based on the choice of the persons involved into matrimony. ...

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Hemant's intention in going to the H.P.T.D.C. hotel was, at the moment, influenced by the desire to meet Mr. Manmeet Malhotra, the manager. He also wanted thereby to express his gratitude to Mr. Malhotra who had arranged accommodation for him last night. Hemant was already under obligation of Mr Malhotra for his kind and affectionate treatment of Hemant when three years ago Hemant happened to meet him at the H.P.T.D.C. hotel at Manali where Manmeet Malhotra was working as an Astt Manager, those days. They were seeing each other after almost a decade since their graduation as students of S.R.C.C., Delhi. …………………….. "Well, how is `Bhabhiji`?" Hemant asked. For a few moments Manmeet held up his tongue tightly and only stared at Hemant with a smile on his face. Hemant thought that he had made a mistake. Perhaps, Triplem is still a bachelor like him. "But when I met him in Manali, he had told me that he had got married only three months before.” But Manmeet was quick enough to read the signs of perplexity in his friend's face and lost no time in explaining his position. ……………. He was not interested in knowing more about ...

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Finally the epic stories of Tessie Rosenrothstein and Tain Frash are told in this heart pounding prequel to the award winning novel, The Children of Rutherford. A tale of two heroes who grew up in homes with more interesting siblings and lowered expectations. ...

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Tessie was awoken in the middle of the night by Smump crawling into bed with her. “You woke me up,” Tessie said groggily. “When are you not asleep?” Smump whispered. “Please don't fart in my bed, Smump.” “I wasn't planning on it.” “Do you have any liquid in your mouth?” “Just a soupçon of spittle.” “Why are you always so mean to people, Smump?” “Why are you so lethargic and disinterested in life, Tessie?” “I dunno,” Tessie shrugged. “I feel like I've already lead many lives. I'm just tired.” “Well I feel fresh and new and I'm ready to leave my mark on this world like a mulberry on a southern sidewalk.” “All you care about is making other people mad, Smump.” “It's their choice to be mad. I prefer being happy and having fun.” “I have fun too, Smump.” “Your idea of fun is taking a nap and then recovering with another nap.” “We are only six. We are supposed to get lots of sleep.” “Not me. When I'm old enough I'm going to stay up all night with my homo-sexual friends drinking sugary cocktails, smoking tobacco cigarettes, and using lots of cuss words when I talk.” “That sounds horrid,” Tessie gasped. “So what d...

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It’s the first day of school for Giffy Zerzeron, the new teacher at Paula Deen High School sponsored by Remington Firearms in Woodstock, Virginia, and she’s ready to make a difference. In one day, she has to win over a classroom full of diverse students with her “innovative” teaching style....

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Giffy stood proudly in the middle of her new classroom and stared proudly at the blank walls that were hers to decorate. She opened her satchel and pulled out a stack of portraits. Giffy spent the next 22 minutes gluing portraits to the wall of great men like George Wallace, Bill Cosby, George W. Bush, Nero, Pete Rose, Ty Cobb, Robert E. Lee, Fatty Arbuckle, L. Ron Hubbard, Ted Nugent, Roozy Feep, and many others. It was in the legacies of these great men that she hoped to inspire the tiny minds of her disadvantaged students. With only a few minutes before her students were set to arrive, she sat down at her desk to snack on a ripe durian. She was ready....

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A fictitious humorous story about androids and shampoo.

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Mr. Utterson, the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow l o v a b l e....

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For the first time, go inside the high pressure world of corporate presentation design. Chex Lankershim is the world's greatest slide designer, but he is due for a fall....

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“10 minutes until show,” said the brown skinned young man who was wearing a headset. “I'm doing my best,” Chox barked. He was furiously working his way through the slide deck trying to make all of the changes. “Well you need to work faster, vato.” “And who the hell are you?” Chox snapped. “My name is Cholo Marquez and I click the slide deck for the speaker onstage and I also maintain the show computers that project the slides,” he said gravely. “I am also a Mexican.” Chox slammed his fist on the desk. “I hate Times New Roman. I'm changing the font.” “To what?” said Cholo. “Comic Sans.” “Ay yi yi!” Cholo gasped. “Ain't nobody ever used that font in a presentation before, papi!” “Well I am.” “They gonna fire you.” Chox looked at Cholo. “If they are gonna fire me, then I will hand them the match.” “You got big cojones, I give you that Gringo.” Chox made his final change and then handed Cholo a floppy disc. “Here you go.” “It was nice working with you, pepino,” Chox said as he began copying the slide deck to his system. Chox rubbed his weary eyes. “Yes.”...

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periodical

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A glimpse in the life of the poor in the mid-20th century's Delhi (India), where poor Krisana declared a criminal because of his poverty, shares his destiny with a girl about which he had heard....

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Collected poetry reviews from 2004-2013.

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I faced the painting. I stared at it. There was the great eye and I concentrated on it. The eye, the great eye, the eye of the abstraction, the enigma, “what nonsense!”. And then, to my amazement, it happened: the great eye abstracted me, and the universe that we know now, seemed finite to me. The ethereal at the disposition of one unique imperative will, mine. From my hands emerged, at my whim, entire worlds, forms, beings, things, space, time and destinations, that my will governed, and all in only one point. I was almighty! Time laid dead in a languid clock over an infinite horizon, populated with floating mountains. There was Lucrecia, radiant, waiting my resolution...

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I faced the painting. I stared at it. There was the great eye and I concentrated on it. The eye, the great eye, the eye of the abstraction, the enigma, “what nonsense!”. And then, to my amazement, it happened: the great eye abstracted me, and the universe that we know now, seemed finite to me. The ethereal at the disposition of one unique imperative will, mine. From my hands emerged, at my whim, entire worlds, forms, beings, things, space, time and destinations, that my will governed, and all in only one point. I was almighty! Time laid dead in a languid clock over an infinite horizon, populated with floating mountains. There was Lucrecia, radiant, waiting my resolution...

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This study examines the influence of empiricism on Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poetry up until 1800, at which time he deserted it for transcendentalism. This is not to suggest that he was completely an empiricist before 1800, but that his empiricism was somewhat tempered by transcendentalist influences. Therefore, the relationship between “empiricism” and “transcendentalism” in his thinking with regard to poetic composition is problematical. Coleridge became a transcendentalist poet and thinker, whose Biographia Literaria was partly intended to demonstrate the malign effect of the Locke tradition on poetry. Even so, that book is partly a work of self-correction. There is ample evidence of Coleridge’s immersion in empiricist philosophy in the 1790s, as well as in the kind of scientific enquiry that was thought to be congenial to that philosophy. The sway of David Hartley, in particular, over his thoughts is prominently demonstrated by the choice of a name for his son....

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Overview of Lower Saxion dialects and the future of literature in these Dutch dialects. State of the art.

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Dialect is not a vehicle of culture, as Latin was. Dialects are for conversation in the rural area about agriculture and food, not to discuss philosophy or economics. The vocabulary is not sufficient for new technology....

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Examples op literature in dialect and its future. Illustrated.

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This novel is based on the plot that describes the life of a young lady having worked as Assistant Professor at the University level. These days, she is engaged by a Trust, interested in promoting `mental illumination through peace of mind and self-confidence. She is going places to deliver lectures, keep in mind the aims of the organization as well as the composition of the audiences. In fact, since her infancy she is on the move from one part of India to another, even having no idea of the identity of the couple who parented her. Having been reared up by a domestic maid, she was obliged to inherit this type of job to earn for her livelihood. The onset of puberty in the proximity of unrelated men was to be withstood with caution and care for her chastity. These tours of lecturing around, once make her find a known lady in her audience in Delhi. This incident opens her the way to meet many people in this big city and take her to the person who fathered her. Here, she also gets the truthful information about her mother....

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Dear Madhu Ji, On my way back home I recapitulated, as my routine exercise, the discussions at the Coffee House. Can you recall the reaction of Mr Malik to Lal's outburst against the final outcome of Dhananjay Chakrovarty's legal battle to ward off the Capital punishment pronounced on him for rape and murder of a minor girl, when he himself was just 21 years? ……………..." I suppose Mr. Malik came out with some amusing retort, which made almost the entire group at the table giggle and I could not make out anything but only observe Mr. Malik move towards the toilets. Respected Sir, I clearly heard your `Guruji`, I mean Mr Malik, murmur aloud, “Is there any punishment available to your civilized society to punish an errant woman who voluntarily and actively seduces and commits rape on an innocent, uninitiated and in the prime of his youth?” “Do you mean a rape amongst a Lesbian fraternity?” Mr. Lal Singh speaks out smilingly. Mr. Malik simply hung his head down and spoke in his normal pitch, “I mean, on a companion belonging to the opposite sex.” Having uttered these words Guruji peacefully got up and moved in a gentle pace towards pu...