She Is The Idol That Was Never Made, A Bronx Statue That Never Left The Sculptor’s Head

She Is The Idol That Was Never Made, A Bronx Statue That Never Left The Sculptor’s Head

She wakes up everyday in a mire of ignorance. Her tangled hair flutters against everlasting wind that picks up pace as it approaches her: it could be a warning, it could be trying to break her fall. The woman, however, walks ahead, her eyes on the ground, her neck the shape of a sickle: no writer with any shred of dignity could ever describe her endowments, for she is the idol that was never made, a bronx statue that never left the sculptor’s head.

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Why We Do Masters’ Abroad

Why We Do Masters’ Abroad

The one thing I’ve always admired about Indian society is how visibly the trend is changing – what once was a frenzied state of “shifting to a foreign country” is soon attaining an equilibrial state, where people stop and question the very method. We shift gears to the pace on mass movement – similar to bunch of sheep deported to a foreign land in search of something no member of the flock knows yet – and evaluate options in different dimensions.

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