Noons have an ominous way of playing on our imagination. I was told that Daadu used to have this weird dream of seeing hundreds of horses galloping across a vast, desolate field and eventually fading into the distant grove. It is weird as I never saw any horses in our vicinity. As I was trying to make sense of all of these, I felt I saw the trees writhe its branches and climb up and up. Stopping by this grove of skeletal trees, in a late-wintry afternoon, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to bring these once-living beings to such a state. Had they been struck down by some ancient curse, or had the grove itself twisted them into these grotesque forms?
Third Issue: SILENCES
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