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The car rides back to the airport Are usually silentExcept for the occasional sighs of my father.My mother’s wrinkly fingers would slightly touch mine,Huddled together in the backseat.It’s an hour’s journey ,As if to fill the silence,My uncle curses potholes and reckless drivers.I turn to the window,Hiding my face from those around me.Lest they see
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We sat out on the porch, Overlooking the mighty Nelliyampathi, Braiding each other’s hair, As the evening sun was dimming, And the flickering lampposts grazed their yellow lights on the green paddy fields on either side of the pathway in front of us. The camphor scent from Ammama’s* pooja room Brimmed in the air around
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The bastard form of mass culture is humiliated repetition, always new books , new programmes, new films, new items but always the same meaning” Barthes on mass culture. Is it just the bane of mass culture? Do we ever have anything new? Anxiety of influence probably disturbs every creator because how could he or she
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She had been looking all along for a friend, and it took her a while to discover that a lover was not a comrade and could never be for a woman. And that no one would ever be that version of herrself which she sought to reach out to and touch with an ungloved hand
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People have become more obsessed with productivity apps than ever before. It is all in a quest to manage time. The concept of time has always baffled us, yet everything is looked at and understood from the perspective of time. From seconds to decades, time is measured, and we know that time is the most
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Do you believe in astrology? Growing up in a Hindu household in Kerala, it was customary for most of us to have our astrology birth chart made and read out to us. Now this typically happens in our childhood, and I have always been curious about it. As a child, my inclination was to believe
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Everyday I love you a little less, Unwinding myself out of love Like how the clouds burst into tear drops when it can no longer hold And yet when the drops fall They flow into non existence. Merging with the larger. I be a formless drop In thy ocean.
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(Photo: Bled Lake, Slovenia) The travel bug has always been in my blood, but it was in my twenties that I could finally spread my wings and see what’s out there in this world. As Jane Austen says, “If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.”
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In the midst of these winter days, cooped up in warm blankets, I am irresistibly lost in my reveries of the warm summer sun. It is as if I want the summer back to feel alive again. I am waiting for that warm breeze to put spring back in my heels so that I can
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When I touched it first,It felt soft and plush.It felt like a warm hugThat I wanted to last forever.I felt it to be delicate,I was careful.I kept it neatly folded In my chest.I brimmed with prideof my treasure,Neatly folded and hiddenIn my chest.Yesterday, I unfolded it,Only to see the creases in its folds.It has lost
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