How does one talk about death to a man who is infirm? What does one say? So many of my teenage years were at their house, listening to CF’s father talk about unions, mathematics, and with me, writing. Her parents were “cool enough” back then to allow both girls and boys to hang out in... Continue Reading →
I am writing this after eating a delicious bowl of steaming dal khichri and air-fried chicken. I have the day off on account of a public holiday so an expanse of time lays before me unclaimed, and the afternoon laziness has come over me. After a good meal, my emotions usually reside in the vicinity... Continue Reading →
Things that happened: This week my horoscope said that I should not make myself so vulnerable to criticism that it becomes a wound, and this is why I still read the particular horoscope app because it provides much needed advice thrown away inside of a poignant and polite paragraph meant only for me. Yesterday, I... Continue Reading →
Two days ago, I was walking to the parking lot after having an intense conversation with an old friend about something that was weighing on her and I started laughing to myself. It has been a week of intense conversations with friends about trauma, ageing, anxiety, quality of life and work, loss of money, loves... Continue Reading →
After a point of time, even I get bored of hearing myself tell the same stories but to different set of people. As if explaining my life to different people is a desperate measure to be understood. They’re the same stories — about a food not eaten, an anecdote from my past, the literature festival... Continue Reading →
During the lockdown, I did a lot of things that were uncharacteristically me. One of them was running a podcast. It started about as a very nascent thought. As someone who hasn't been a fan of podcasts, I imagined this to be a small podcast, running for only 3 minutes, hence the name. However, when... Continue Reading →
Many moons ago, a switch went off in my brain and I was compelled to become this person who had to do something productive every single day to survive. It could be an hour of exercise, writing in my journal, cleaning my cupboard, reading a book or an essay that lends something to my writing... Continue Reading →
This came in the mail today. I knew it was sent, but when I received it I was overjoyed because I wasn't expecting it. There's a very small note inside it. I felt a tear of joy form at the corner of my eye when I read it. This book is the thoughtful gesture of... Continue Reading →
Earlier this week, I found myself completely unstitched, and then sewed up back again by the end of it. While trying to keep up, I thought of Kintsugi and what it would mean to glue our broken souls with liquid gold. If we could see souls, all of us would be walking skies with glowing... Continue Reading →
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