JAI SANTHOSHI SATHISH KUMAR  Emerald green eyes gazing at the ceiling, She sat propped up on a withered chair; Wounds turned into scars, forbidden healing, Transfixed, she let the wind sway her hair. The depths of the memories chimed in, Applauses around were heard no more; A deep penetrating silence was the new found din,  … More GEARS AND CLUTCHES