Author Archives | umashankar

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I am just a watcher then. Sometimes I watch life. Sometimes I watch death. Many times I watch in between...

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

April 16, 2016

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When-Breath-Becomes-Air

Somewhere in the pages of his unforgettable autobiography, Paul Kalanithi alludes to the concept of areté, the ability achieved through a confluence of human faculties at their peak, to describe neurosurgery’s unforgiving call to perfection. Neurosurgery, where a scalpel’s journey a millimetre up or down, or to the right or left, in the labyrinths of […]

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Three Tamarind Trees -Part II

March 1, 2016

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*The beginning It was half past six in the morning as I trod the bridge over the moat to the looming entrance. My heart matched the pitter-patter of my hastening steps. Unlike the stolid façade I had come upon in my midday visits, the fort stood brooding in the soft morning light. A group of […]

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Three Tamarind Trees -Part I

February 24, 2016

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I swear I will tell you each word of the story as he had whispered in my ears. I first met him at Sadar Bazar in Agra. I had just purchased a paperback called Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha and was sipping a cup of tea at a footpath stall. There was little of note […]

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Protected: Wind in the Ruins

February 7, 2016

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Protected: Life of a Hollow

January 31, 2016

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An Open Puzzle to Haiku Writers

January 22, 2016

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Rose gold iPhone Fingerprints of feather Haiku they wrote.  The bowels jettison Smokes of pot noodle Dawn, noon and dusk.  Grumbling in the groin The brooding, wet cistern Agrees and sprays.  Young eves frolic In the pale light of the beach My prostrate is misshapen.  Base notes of cacti Fused with camel dung Oil has […]

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Protected: High Tide Rising

January 17, 2016

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Protected: Moonwalks with Coquettes

January 8, 2016

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Protected: The Wine Red Kiss

January 4, 2016

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Protected: The Wild Thing in Us

December 15, 2015

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Protected: Come Away with Me

October 23, 2015

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The Silence of the Scrolls

August 30, 2015

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Image credit: Jan Steiner

It’s been a while since the nightingales sang in the darkness, fidgeting on boughs swaying in the night-wind. It’s been a while since the fingers splattered on the keyboard like an impromptu rain. There is this dike thin as rice paper, holding back rivulets of waste and repentance that I dare not let loose on […]

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