Endless Joy by Nirupam RoyThe Currency of Laughter
I remember a rainy Tuesday in a small village outside of Galway, where I ducked into a community hall to escape a sudden downpour. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool and boiled potatoes. A group of children were huddled near…
Layers of the Ground
I spent this morning digging in my small garden patch, trying to clear out the weeds that had taken over while I was away. My hands were covered in dirt, and I kept hitting bits of old brick and rusted metal buried just beneath the surface.…
The Weight of a Second
In the quiet hours of the morning, when the house is still settling into its bones, I often find myself watching the dust motes dance in a stray beam of light. They are aimless, drifting in a slow, rhythmic suspension that defies any sense…