Wake up to the blare of an alarm, Light seeps through blinds half-drawn, Another day in the carousel spins, PPTs astray, calls to make till dawn. Coffee’s bitter kiss, morning’s silent pact, Faces blur, identities anything but intact Emails pile up like autumn leaves, To-do lists grow, unchecked

Wish I could leave you, my love, but my heart is a mess. How can something evoke pain and tranquility at the same time? Often described as his breakthrough song, “cold/mess” is a breathtaking, soulful and mesmerizing composition by Prateek Kuhad. One can discern the artistry behind the song from the

There was an old ticking clock by my mother’s bedside. It was rusty and old, not even much of an antique. Nonetheless, it was always by her bedside. “It’s ticking” she would smile and stare at it with childish adoration. The truth was, the clock never ticked. The batteries had run off at least a de