Yes, I have descended to filching from weird quotes of indeterminate, ambivalent origin and intent. True, I have faltered, faded, fumbled and stumbled into that eternal bin. The crispy tang of the green fruit before ripening into succulence has mellowed into bilious patches. The neural lattice that once crackled with sparks lies buried under its […]Read More
(Further to Bruno’s Story) It seems I have troubled your heart, but it is a tale recount I must. So that next time you see a dog pup scrapping the bins for crumbs, you don’t wince in disgust. And when you see one scurrying across the street from within your car, you do not swear. […]Read More
(Arun Jaitley: 1952—2019) The flag is at half-mast, a gloom shrouds the chancel of the land; The one who hugged oblivion was once the counsel of the land. Soft spoken, discreet, a maven of silken-tongued satires, He unmasked and foxed many a weasel of the land. How many skies can a flyer scale without […]Read More
What memories have etched this incision in the night? My heart will crumble without a reason in the night. The throbbing in the air is the labour of my breathing, Ardour of the sighs is a petition in the night. Icebergs implode like a fireball of miseries, The tranquil marina is a prison in the […]Read More
At the end of long nights birds chirped and squawked, squirrels chattered their heads out. The wind rose and fell and the tall trees whispered. Footsteps swelled and footsteps receded. Footsteps stopped and guffawed and came to peep inside our home. Footsteps cackled.Read More
Dear Finn, I don’t even know where to begin. But the skies get creepy like a hole in the mouth of a snake with each passing hour. And darkness falls like flakes and sinks into the soul of the dogdom. Before long, my voice will be lost to the howls and ululations. But this story […]Read More
Like a penitent pigeon, grief has settled again on the ledge;
Molten moons have lingered and shone in vain on the ledge.