A postcard. Neat handwriting fills the rectangle.  Half my days I cannot bear to touch you. The rest of my time I feel like it doesn’t matter if I will ever see you again. It isn’t the morality, it’s how much you can bear.  No date. No name attached.

That children shall be compelled to receive religious instruction which is in antagonism to the wishes of their parents, is what no man with say sense of justice would suggest.

The craft or art of writing is the clumsy attempt to find symbols for the wordlessness.

What we DO NOT DO is of utmost importance THAN what we DO

Written By Dr. Suhasa G, YAANA YOGA ACADEMY, Bengaluru

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