All the linked posts under this blog are an outcome of my observations about the things that often go unnoticed and the things that are often taken for granted.
The clock in the hall room sprung to life, its speaker chimed four times, and then turned silent again, leaving the house tranquil. Arun was already up, struggling with his breaths. The post-monsoon season aggravated his sinusitis, and so he kept switching between the sides. Restive, he sat atop the bed for some time, adjusted... Continue Reading →
The sun grappled with the clouds all day long. Tired, it went to the bed a bit early than the usual days. By the evening, the clouds had enshrouded the sky, convincing Shama that it'd rain, but it didn't. From her room on the seventh floor of a nine-floor apartment, Shama sees lights everywhere --... Continue Reading →
The table lamps stood at an awkward angle to each other and together with the paraphernalia -- the books that he had read, the book he was currently reading, the book he had decided never to flip any more page of, the kindle, the empty pen stand, a Rubik's cube that had jammed for not... Continue Reading →
Ramesh balanced himself on the scaffold - a temporary arrangement of sticks and ropes built around the naked and ugly building that he was to paint and transform into a beautiful house. The same building that he and a few others like him had worked on persistently and had erected in over a year. And... Continue Reading →
He had moved out of the previous apartment when it had become impossible for him to touch anything in it without feeling her touch on his hand. And this, he came to learn, as is the case with most of the other things a man learns only with the passage of time, happened to a... Continue Reading →
The room was reeking when he returned from the office, and the moment he unlatched the front door, the smell reached to him like a gust of wind. He retched, and though his ribs ached nothing came out from inside. He had never vomited in his life, not even when he was an unweaned child.... Continue Reading →
His earliest memories of a Shehnai and its sound were from a mandap -- a platform raised temporarily for marriages and around which couples vow togetherness, their families surrounding them in all the directions, rejoicing in these avowals. He was 7 years old then and was seated on his mother's lap, deaf to what the... Continue Reading →
I stared into my washing machine while the clothes were whirling inside it. What came out along with the washed clothes has been jotted down.
Acceptance. And once, he was advised by a friend to write on topics that would be well received. Accepted by all unanimously, or at least, be read. Of course, he knew of such topics, and above all of the importance of being accepted. He didn't blink while his friend did the talking. He listened intently... Continue Reading →
Scene: Art Gallery Conversation between Vipul and Yaman: "Don't you find it voluptuous?" asked Vipul still unable to take his eyes off the painting, or off the bare bosoms of whosoever might have been the sitter, for the painting was both too vivacious to be fictitious and too tempting to be ignored. “I am no... Continue Reading →
A Fine Balance 