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Meera Ali

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in the labyrinth of hope and slot each fragment of it in the middle of my books where they smell of leftover hillocks and I walk upside-down. (Read Caption) Sometimes I hide, when someone throws shackles of closure. I sit with my legs close upto my heartbeats and I talk to myself about "Where I

in the labyrinth of hope and slot each fragment of it in the middle of my books where they smell of leftover hillocks and I walk upside-down. (Read Caption) Sometimes I hide, when someone throws shackles of closure. I sit with my legs close upto my heartbeats and I talk to myself about "Where I