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Thank you mom for having the awesome strength to put up with a thousand things you didn't like...

Maternal love and affection: Does it have borders? Borders of caste and creed, of religions?

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If your phone was somebody's life line and you'd be walking and slip in a puddle... If your phone fell out of your pocket into the water, if it became wet and out of use and you had

When she hadn't known his name or recognised him, staring through him and down the long ward of coughing women, he went out and spent most of his giro in bars and pubs, and found himself dancing with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Bobbing and moving in the loud sweaty darkness, he shouted into her ear "My mother's got cancer, she's in the hospital. Now.

Momigigari ( translated from the japanese: Hunting of the red leaves) The Japanese, who are crazy about cherry blossoms in spring are getting wild about red autumn leaves travelling far distances in the "hunt" of them

Elizabeth Bathory, Countess of Transylvania, bathed in the blood of kidnapped girls, believing it would keep her young. A girl who tried to escape, Pola, was shut in a cage of sharpened knives in which she was shaken until shredded to death on the blades.

For now, the ancients brave the park but soon, overnight, when the ice appears (puddles tightly capped by vindictive out-of-work glaziers) the park will be deserted except for me: I am young with these lungs and I hope you remember the war or something.

I know your secret, my unknown friend. I know what's hidden beyond the granite walls You have erected to protect your ego. I know the fears and doubts you keep so deep inside Ashamed with ruthless stares of passers-by.