By Tristan Fernandes Dear Amar Singh I 1916 Boots seeped in muck. Rain from above. The scream of shells piercing the sky. Tiny soldiers hovering in their mud holes. No man’s land is a sea of barbed wires and pockmarked shell holes. Sunrays peaked from the misty sky and dawn was yet to arrive. For … Continue reading Dear Amar Singh
Academy of the Heart And Mind 