Where the Clocks Have No Hands

Where the clocks have no hands is a quiet journey through the folds of time, memory, and the gentle ache of nostalgia. In these poems, everyday objects, a sweater, a swing, a cracked teacup, become vessels of remembrance, carrying the weight of people, places, and moments long gone, yet never truly lost. Neelkant Pandhare’s verses invite readers to linger in the half-lit corners of the past, where a scent, a sound, or a flicker of light can bring an entire world rushing back. Tender, reflective, and beautifully precise, this collection reminds us that memory is not just what we recall, it’s what continues to live softly inside us.