Short Story
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Death shall not do us part
When he told me that he had found a way to hack reincarnation, I could hardly believe it. To begin with, what did he mean by reincarnation—was he again talking about that crazy notion that we all have lived and will live multiple lives? And what on earth is meant by “hacking” it? I mean,… Continue reading
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The Painter
I sit across from the blank canvas imagining all the things I can fill it up with. Abstract shapes take form in my head and disappear before they make it out to the flat white surface. The round pointed brush in my hand, sometimes gently taps the side of the mixing plate, and sometimes rests… Continue reading
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The Mullah and his girlfriend
The Mullah and his girlfriend had been in a longterm relationship for a few months. His girlfriend constantly complained about not meeting enough but the Mullah did not want to travel to her town to meet her very often. Continue reading
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The Relentless Sea
The sea does not relent. The waves come and hit the shore again and again and yet again. The sea does not stay still. It keeps moving, its surface always in a state of flux. How unstable it is. Well, not unstable, I say it as if it is a bad thing. It is how… Continue reading
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The Monk
Our master says he was nothing without his master, and that his master was nothing without his master, and that master, two generations removed was also nothing without his master, and so on so that the chain of masters of this monastery continued ad infinitum to the very first master (may God always keep his… Continue reading
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Ruhani – A Short Story
Many years ago there used to flow a river through this small town. An ancient river, holy and sacred for us for many generations. People called her “Ruhani.” When I was small, my grandfather used to tell me all about this mighty river. Her majestic volume, her pure blue glistening water, her impulsive flow—very rapid… Continue reading
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Do IT – A Short Story
Nura was having a great day. Her classes at the college went well, she got an A in yet another assignment, her teachers loved her, and very soon, she was going to graduate and start earning her own living—life could not have been more perfect… Continue reading
About Me
Nehaan in Persian means ‘secret’ or ‘hidden.’ In Japanese, the same word means ‘nirvana.’ In these pages, I will make an attempt to explore, and if possible, partly or fully reveal what lies hidden from our view in our day-to-day lives. The path will be characterised by a certain lack of method which I think is characteristic of human intuition. I write and shall continue to write only when inspired to do so. This also means I might occasionally make forays into varied fields such as science, music, philosophy, language, linguistics and poetry, to name a few. I hope this would not put off new readers and tire the old ones! But who am I to complain–even the lovers of fine wine feel repulsed by the first drop and still, quite strangely, dizzy by the last.
Nehaan 