It trickled within us, the dwindling hypocrisy of peace; a promise of cure in sheer chaos. The converging sounds within the diverged hemispheres of our parallel existence, our refuge nestled within the confines of normalcy or a concealment of unfaltering vice. It baffled me, the thought of possession leading towards a resolute abandonment of all […]Read More An Unrequited Demise.
A Constitution of Existence The nestling abode, ruffling beneath the verdant veins of nature’s aristocracy…perhaps I was at fault. The waxy layer of azure leaves as they entwined around me, iotas of infinity glaring back at me. I could have caterwauled within the panic rustling within our aureoles; after all who was it that left? […]Read More “A Constitution of Existence” by Imaan Siddiq
The Shedding of Human Skin It rested in front of me, the perpetual ache of a non-existence that I dreaded as I faded into a gradual unconsciousness. Was it painful? As the colours rusted in front of my globular organs and our worshipped conversations fell apart; perhaps it was not of any significance. “A graveyard […]Read More “The Shedding of Human Skin” by Imaan Siddiq
The carcasses didn’t bloom that spring as I had fallen accustomed till then, the lilacs burning and the verdancy shriveling up into nullness. The patchy blotted surface and the warped edges of a dying leaf nestled in my fist; only dead matter was allowed inside our rooms. We were dead matter as well. Compostable and […]Read More A Number.
The Calling of the Constellations – A Short Story What a folly it seemed to be. The hypocritical consolation that used to envelope me every time that I seemed to utter a sigh. Perhaps, a woe of still grieving a loss, some loss. Haven’t we all lost something? But maybe everyone does not have to […]Read More “The Calling of the Constellations” by Imaan Siddiq
You’re right. When you murmur in the depths of your silent exhales, I might as well be a burden. A weight too heavy for the animate to sustain, as if I am no more than the struggle to be inanimate. I remember glorifying death when I was a youth; there is freedom in death and […]Read More Promise.
A Chord Obscured. Rustling and humming; gradually yet persistent in the befogged blindness enveloping the sorts of aristocracy. The only sounds that I resonated with, striking the hymns beneath the despondency, a shallow putridity clear yet translucent. The resin that our minds secrete as we dissolve beneath the drugged consciousness – a luminous dream and […]Read More “A Chord Obscured.” by Imaan Siddiq
An Ode to Sanity – A Short Story by Imaan Siddiq I can’t seem to unsee the demise that lies untethered in my line of sight. The flames of reverence that shall glisten on the doomsday of an unhindered gloom yet I won’t survive. I might as well die of internal conflict rather than the […]Read More An Ode to Sanity.
(TW: This is written in the light of the unfathomable strength, courage and resolve of the people of Palestine and an earnest prayer for this genocide, ethnic cleansing and colonial settlement to end soon.) A façade. Enveloping, gradually insisting in the prevalence of a narcissistic idealism, one that feeds the fed and not the hungry. […]Read More The Unnamed.
A Wilted Bloom It was in the discourse of contemplation that Farukh would get dissoluted in. A resting abode and a prospering bloom were perhaps the instability in her life that made it stable. Maybe, it was in the way that her eyes glistened beside the resting river and the discord of the ripples, another […]Read More “A Wilted Bloom” by Imaan Siddiq