Get me worms of silk for the runes and a dewdrop, Seven folds of veil for a cocoon and a dewdrop. The mirror is in youth, and the jasmine in bloom, Smoky is the kohl like the moon in a…
Category: Such is Life
Protected: Wind in the Ruins
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The Silence of the Scrolls
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…
The Pentagon Down
The commander of the forces of associate provinces barged through the door of my tent two days before the clash of the legions. His chubby face was ashen with nothing less than volcanic fear; his fingers shook like peepal leaves…
A Pony in a Carousel
Like a pony fettered to a carousel, I’ve been travelling miles after circular miles and yet not have moved a millimetre from the pole I am suspended. I am not in charge of this motion, nor do I control this…
The Naked and the Mad
“You can think clearly only with your clothes on.” ~Margaret Atwood Somewhere down the evolutionary hill, or up the vertigo inducing precipice if you rather have that, we lost the ability of thinking clearly in our birthday panoply. The moments…
Unnameable Things
Hailing from a childhood both untainted and unenlightened by television, I have fond memories of the whole bunch of siblings huddled up in the box room that our parents had converted into a common study, which also served as a…
A Hunger Game of Books
I have taken a vow of abstinence from the book market, which since the advent of blogging has begun resembling a fish market where everyone is hollering to sell his dreams and nightmares alike. The social media is bursting at…
Reading The Forgotten Waltz
The Saturday is melting away like an ice lolly in afternoon. Swift bursts of rain have given a washed look to mould-ridden walls and rooftops. Even the mounds of garbage look clean. It is a noisy old suburban rail coach,…
A Glass of Ice Water
‘It's like giving a glass of ice water to somebody in hell.’ ~Steve Jobs, about iTunes on Windows computers. Perhaps you missed me in my period of quiet, or shall I say disquiet? Allow me to explain, though I may…
Shakespeare’s Email
'The evening is still, the birds silent, the wind dead like a tramp, flopped on a footpath. The sky is dressed in dust and dusk.' (From my short story: End of Dusk) I look at my face in the mirror…
Diamonds in the Detritus
I remember how in my childhood time was like a river of molasses where I’d twiddle my thumbs like a noonday fly waiting for my father to return with the promised goodies. Waiting for the monthly issues of comics was…
One Grain Amongst the Storm 