Ishaisms, Poetry


My fingers don’t feel like themselves today - they don’t hold my pen as they are wont to; they don’t scrape words out of ink, on the parchment, or tap the temple to stumble across a new one or two… My mind doesn’t feel like itself today - It composes no rhyme as it is… Continue reading NOT MYSELF TODAY

Artistic Demon, Ishaisms, Reflections


One of the most celebrated, debated and discussed topic, art has as many multifarious interpretations as it has judges. Many have tried to fathom and explain its effect on the human heart and mind, and thus, I will be posting a few extracts from an article I penned about three years ago, in an attempt… Continue reading ON ART

Ishaisms, Poetry


You chose the balmy ink to delineate, a dismal, (formerly unevoked ) cry; then appalled at the sketchy truth, did to bits separate, the frail parchment with fingers spry. What started in an inspired hour, proved taxing and intricate to upkeep; colours and lines bore uncanny power, to disrupt, to reveal... Cowed all the while… Continue reading THE REMNANTS