The Constitution of a Wound

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 →

Beparwah

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 →

The Non-Essential

Every time I came to the blog in the last few weeks, I wondered what did I have to say. I believe this is a common malaise of bloggers who have personal blogs. What do we write about, we ask ourselves? As the days pass by, they cut and fold into themselves becoming more and... Continue Reading →

I Don’t Wanna Know

It seems to me that it has been a long time since I blogged about the ongoings of my life. In past blogging excursions, I have felt the need to embellish the fact with fiction to make the recounting palatable. It wasn't always this way on this blog. I was more forthcoming, less concealing, more... Continue Reading →

Story Series: Part 2

I figured this format could become an on-going story series. Part 1 is here. I am ashamed of sharing my feelings with him. A lizard runs across the bathroom ceiling as I am brushing my teeth. I stare at it, look at it without hesitating. It looks back at me. I continue brushing my teeth.... Continue Reading →

Comes and Goes (In Waves)

Earlier this year, I read Things I Don't Want to Know by Deborah Levy. It's a first person narrative of the South African writer and her answer to George Orwell's essay, "Why I Write". At the time, I was also reading another book in which there is an Egyptian character who is a paying guest... Continue Reading →

Fields of Gold

A few days ago, I had a thought about Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed. One that I forgot. Something about them being soul sisters, except that they are not. I didn't make a note of the thought, maybe because I was sleeping, too knocked out to actually give a fig or because I was binge-watching... Continue Reading →

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