The Absence Of Light…

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 →

Of Sun and Sinusitis…

The Sun played tricks like an unweaned child. Now sticking its face to the mother's breast and then turning with a jerk towards its father, as if filled, only to resume the feeding by turning back towards its mother the moment it sees his father extending his hand in its direction. An act of defiance... Continue Reading →

Of a girl and a bird…

The girl. If one were to capture a panoramic view from where she stood and saw the birds go about in their daily chores, three-fourths of the captured image would be filled up with tall multi-storeyed buildings, full of people, working inside them. The remaining quarter would show something that now resembles a hill. Atop... Continue Reading →

Sister, Songs, and Phone Calls…

This piece is very close to my heart, just like all my sisters. It has been lying in the drafts for over two months, for no particular reason. What makes it special are not the nuances of the words used, but the nuances of the story which will come out differently to each one of us. To all the sisters - whose smiles keep us moving and makes life bearable.

Of School and Spitoon…

This story, amidst other things, centres on the hopelessness of the entire process of growing up, and all the disappointment it brings along. As a child, I had always wanted to rid myself of the ritual called examinations. I achieved it at a high price - my childhood.

Indore, Food, and Robot’s Crotch…

I come from a place too remote to be located on the map without considerably zooming into it. I then, under this predicament, proudly pronounce myself as being from Indore when an outsider asks me of my origins. It is something common to all the people from smaller tehsils, now districts, in Madhya Pradesh. Indore is our haven. Bengaluru is love. Bengaluru is a beauty. But this article is not about love, not about Bengaluru.

Catharsis

Last few days taught many important lessons. One of which is to Love while the time is still ripe. This post is about gratitude.

Of Journeys and Pilgrimages…

This is as much of a piece on Hope and Courage as it is on what the title suggests. But, I believe, that the only way to overcome anything is by moving towards something, a place, a person, or even a void if one firmly believes in it.

Wait and Hope…

When abandoned by the books, every other thing turned into an act of waiting. Serendipitously, the title of the blog, as I recall it now, also happens to be Dumas' tour de forces' final advice.

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