One morning last week, I was looking forward to working from home. I thought that I would gather the pockets of time left over for myself and do something I enjoy -- read a book, watch a show, or start writing my new essay. However, due to the cloudy, grey downpour all day, I gave... Continue Reading →
I forget to make notes during the week about the things I want to say. Instead, I talk to myself and say them out loud. Then, I forget about them. Whispering nothings and mutterings to the universe is an unconscious habit. Now I understand why my grandmother used to talk to herself while washing vessels,... Continue Reading →
As someone who has started driving in my Indian city, I see things that have no business being on the road. I am way past romanticising organised chaos; I cannot abide. This newfound skill has unlocked a new pathway in my brain which has given way to a whole host of emotions. At this point,... Continue Reading →
The other day I was trying to record a video of myself talking and I wasn't able to do it successfully. I'm unable to jump onto the talk-to-the-camera bandwagon but I try, and I fail. I wanted to talk about the new "cool-girl" phenomenon as I call it; about how we're all expected to be... Continue Reading →
A prophecy that doesn't come true is gibberish from the past. Along with other books, I am currently reading Exhalation by Ted Chiang. To put it loosely, it is a collection of science fiction short stories that also underscore the meaning of being human. In the story that I am reading presently, a corporation creates... Continue Reading →
As someone who doesn't travel in the local trains every day, I tend to romanticise them, only in the Mumbai winters, because I am able to take a train at a time that suits me, I can buy a first class ticket, and I have the luxury of not taking it when it's not comfortable... Continue Reading →
I see the decapitated head of a baby in the morning on my news feed. It has been raining incessantly this day, week, year, and all the lakes in the city are overflowing. I am told to follow my dreams on the weekend, and on the weekdays, I work through my bleeding skin to pay the taxes on time. I... Continue Reading →
I had briefly forgotten how it feels to be defeated by one’s own life and the circumstances of reality. At times, I aspire to be the kind of person who accepts reality and goes on knowing that the world is not an ideal place and the general disposition for coping involves playing the crooked game... Continue Reading →
I found my copy of Orientalism when I opened my book cupboard so that my niece could help herself with any book she wanted. I thought I had given it away, but here it was musky, yellowed, reminiscent of a time when I was discovering the treasures inside bookshelves. The book is still as relevant... Continue Reading →
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