A Mélange of memoirs, fiction, short stories, verses, book reviews and uncorked angst.
The opposite of time is memories. Memories, a span with no beginning, no end, no periods, only nebulous swaths of consciousness. Memories don’t tumble terminally like the sand in an hourglass. Or tick away with the finality of the arms of a clock: thud, thud, thud…. They are like the fungus on the filter of […]
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I was born before I was born. All owls are. True to the species, my fate was chiseled on ancient rocks by comets hurled from alien space. No one could change it after that, not even God. Certainly not father. And every day before the sun rose in the eastern sky, my father’s pet clock […]
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It was not many decades ago that I was shot but since I live to tell the tale, it is only fair to reveal that the weapon of assault was a grumpy black box sporting a round lens on one end and a black tent on the other, mounted on wooden legs. Mistake me not; […]
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Pharaohs had the vision to pile up the pyramids thousands of years ago. Shah Jahan’s flame of love bloomed out in Taj Mahal centuries back. Maya was moulding history at the dawn of the twenty-first century and the saga was far from over when she was plucked away from it. Her ambition was not small. […]
Read MoreThe lady in the house has imposed a curfew on splurging. “No Dream Home, no Cream Machines!” She says. And the law is wrought in iron. You all know how wide open to interpretation a dream home is. It may mean a 27-story luxury mansion with 3 helipads on the top if you are an […]
Read MoreLets face it then, I am an ugly man. How ugly, you ask? Quiet. To make the matters worse I took a fancy to photographing people. Now, imagine yourself being photographed by a baboon that looks like a man! I’m sure you can’t summon your prettiest expression, no matter how ravishingly photogenic you are, in […]
Read More‘Superpower dreams cannot be sustained on empty stomachs.’ – Rahul Bajaj, when asked whether India is about to become a superpower. If you don’t become a superpower on stomachs empty as dry wells, you don’t become a Pharaoh or a Cleopatra on skulls more hollow than rotten coconut shells. Steering clear however of empty […]
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