by Bhavani Sundaram | Feb 28, 2026 | Poetry
You said, “Wait here.” The word wait had always ended well before. Wait while I tie my shoes.Wait while I pay the shopkeeper.Wait while I open the gate. Wait meant return. You tied my leash to a thin iron pole near the park bench.“You’ll be right back,” you said. The...
by Bhavani Sundaram | Jan 31, 2026 | Articles
We cling to the past because we fear the unknown.hurt again?” What we fail to see is this: we are not our past.Our experiences and our pain do not define us. When we live in the present through the lens of the past, we set ourselves up for unhappiness. We begin to...
by Bhavani Sundaram | Jan 26, 2026 | Short Stories
Introduction Some crimes are loud. They leave blood, witnesses, headlines. Others are quiet. They leave data. This is a story about the second kind. Framed begins with a man who believes he understands his life—his habits, his routines, his silences. He trusts the...
by Bhavani Sundaram | Jan 26, 2026 | Short Stories
Introduction This story begins with a table by a window. Two people sitting across from each other, pretending they are not carrying histories heavy enough to tilt the room. A blind date. One hour. Coffee only. Nothing that should matter. And yet. Blind Date is not a...
by Bhavani Sundaram | Jan 26, 2026 | Short Stories
INTRODUCTION This book was not written to speak for dogs. It was written to make space for what they have always been saying. Dogs do not demand attention. They wait. They do not explain themselves. They remain. In a world that rewards noise, speed, and...
