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The Musing Quill

A Blog on Writing, Poetry, Short Stories and Books.

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Bookish Escapades

Eating Animals: An Excerpt

“WHAT IS ADDED BY HAVING a turkey on the Thanksgiving table? Maybe it tastes good, but taste isn’t the reason it’s there — most people don’t eat very much turkey throughout the year. (Thanksgiving Day accounts for 18 percent of... Continue Reading →

A Christmas Carol – An Excerpt

“Christmas a humbug, uncle!' said Scrooge's nephew. 'You don't mean that, I am sure?' 'I do,' said Scrooge. 'Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.' 'Come, then,' returned... Continue Reading →

Delhi is not far – An Excerpt

In Pipalnagar there is not exactly despair, but resignation, an indifference to both living and dying. The town is almost truly reflected in the Pipalnagar Home, where in an open courtyard surrounded by mud walls a score of mental patients... Continue Reading →

The Sensualist – An Excerpt

He has produced a small chillum—a clay pipe—and filled it with the dried leaves of the cannabis plant. ‘No wonder you eat so little,’ I say. ‘It is mental food I require. Those few or many years ago of which... Continue Reading →

Men without Women – An Excerpt

I tried to collect fragments of clues as to her whereabouts, in all sorts of places and from all sorts of people. But these were nothing but scraps, assorted bits and pieces. No matter how many you collect, fragments are... Continue Reading →

Delhi: An Excerpt

That leaves the Sikh journalist and the political expert. They are not getting along too well. The Sikh journalist arrives first, plucks a hair from his sparse beard and says ‘You are back! When?’ and orders coffee. The politician follows:... Continue Reading →

Men without Women – An Excerpt

Kino couldn’t remember now what had led him to sleep with the woman that night. Kino had felt, from the first, that there was something out of the ordinary about her. Something had triggered an instinctive response, warning him not... Continue Reading →

As the poems go…

As the poems go into the thousands you realize that you've created very little. It comes down to the rain, the sunlight, the traffic, the nights and the days of the years, the faces. Leaving this will be easier than... Continue Reading →

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