"No Pets, No Blacks....No Beards"

When I began blogging in 2008, never did I ever imagine my posts would graduate from poems and short stories - and the occasional attempts at sounding funny - and become, what you'd call....'politically sensitive'.

Therefore, though I do feel a tinge of anxiousness about the post I'm writing, it's inspired from a few incidents that occured in the past few months.

The Dog In Room No. 5

It began just after the evening prayer. Returning from the mosque within the hostel, I saw a group of men standing near on of the stairs, talking animatedly.

What's the matter, my cousin asked.

There was a dog. In Room No.5.

Letter From The Solitary Reaper

If you've read 'The Solitary Reaper' by William Wordsworth, you might understand this...
 
Dear Mr. Wordsworth,

Never in my eight years as  reaper have I been so utterly humiliated and embarresed! I have quite a mouthful to tell you, sir, and I'm afraid it shant be poetic!