I sat on the train this morning, surrounded by the usual morning rush. Everyone was staring at their phones, thumbs scrolling through endless feeds, faces lit by that cold, blue glow. I found myself watching an older man across the aisle. He…
I spent this morning trying to untangle a box of old necklaces that had knotted themselves into a single, stubborn ball. My fingers grew stiff, and for a moment, I felt that familiar surge of impatience—the urge to just pull them apart by…
I keep a small, brass key in a velvet-lined box, though I have long since forgotten which door it once opened. It is heavy, cool to the touch, and worn smooth by the friction of a hand that no longer exists. There is a strange, quiet ache in…
The Man Talking with Newspaper by Karthick Saravanan
Dramic Art Work of Fisherman's Work by Karthick Saravanan
A Faster and Lower Long Exposure on Street by Karthick Saravanan