Rushad Tata

Sri City : In the beginning, Death did not despise life. Hatred requires attention and Death had never truly looked or cared enough. Lives came to him like falling leaves, innumerable and indistinct, their edges already curling towards silence. He did not rush them, nor did he linger. He simply arrived when the thread grew thin and severed it with hands older than time itself. He had witnessed the first breath ever drawn and the last star yet to dim, and in all that vastness, life seemed...

Sri City: Life 5 – The Refugee I woke inside a man His stomach clawed at itself with hunger His lips cracked dry as old stone His feet were torn from walking too far on ground that never ended Around him lay the wreckage of what once had been a village Charred walls leaning like broken ribs Smoke still clinging to the air though the fire had died long ago Bodies half buried under dust Some small some still clutching rags of clothing that had once been loved His arms carried nothing now They...

Sri City: I died in silence No grand finale no last words no mourning faces leaning over my bed One moment I was asleep and the next I was somewhere else It was not heaven not hell not the endless black of nothing It was a hollow place A corridor that had no walls and yet I felt confined Like being buried alive in air That was where I met him He was tall and bent slightly forward as if always laughing at a joke only he understood His eyes were pale as glass and his mouth stretched too wide...