February 19, 2017

54 Comments

Thus Spake My Father

As I look back at the life of my departed father, I realise how he had been a part of the transitional era that stood with a foot in the mysteries of the yore and the other into the increasingly scientific modernity. During his childhood, he had huddled with his siblings and grandparents around dimly […]

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February 10, 2017

58 Comments

A Passing Shower —A Review

My student life ended abruptly, or shall I say, comic-apocalyptically, with the postmodernist classic by Joseph Heller, Catch-22. It happened when I wrote a chapter for my doctoral thesis that would soon be abandoned, on the anti-war anti-novel with an anti-hero gripped by existential absurdism. What I posited in the chapter was Joseph Heller had […]

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February 7, 2017

50 Comments

The Springtime Wind —A Translation

Basanti Hawa, or the ‘Springtime Wind’, was the first Hindi poem I fell in love with, early in my childhood. It is written by Kedarnath Agarwal, a much-awarded doyen of Hindi Literature. The poem captures the freshness, fullness and the very essence of the springtime wind with a rare joy and breathlessness, rendering it nearly […]

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February 1, 2017

37 Comments

Train to Nada Land

Dear friend and patrons, by the time you read this post, I’d be rocking away to my old hometown in a still older train panting over the ancient tracks laid down by the British looking to save the Indians from the Indians. If you are the type given to bouts of anxiety over cruelty to […]

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January 21, 2017

44 Comments

Why Did the Chicken Write a Blog?

ARNAB GOSWAMI: Can you tell this, on this channel, right in front of all of us: why can’t the chicken write a blog? The nation wants to know. RAHUL GANDHI: The chicken has written the biggest blog since Independence and is now running away from debate. If it allows me to post a comment, there […]

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January 16, 2017

34 Comments

The Cleaver of Oblivion

The Milky Way is dying, or is dead, by the lever of oblivion; A billion suns will be shattered by the cleaver of oblivion. I remember not the love songs lost or the updraughts of passion; Drowned in sea of disdain, I am a believer of oblivion. She will reap a million vows of my […]

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January 14, 2017

16 Comments

The Orb of Hereafter

About a week shy of the onset of the New Year, I presumptuously augmented the copyright notice at my blog to 2017. Don’t mistake me, I have long stopped caring about the trolls looking forward to plagiarizing my mumbling —anyone with an ounce of gumption would rather honk his or her own larynx. Perhaps my […]

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January 7, 2017

29 Comments

Malice of Zinfandel

Silver grey on temple peaks is the fern of the New Year. The sun has grown wrinkles at the turn of the New Year. Candlelit stilettos turned sherry red in a nightclub, Istanbul is freshly dug cavern of the New Year. Pack of wolves is mauling girls and women in squares, Honour is a bubble […]

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December 25, 2016

54 Comments

Goodbye, Cynthia Jobin

I cannot say Cynthia Jobin was lonely when I met her, surrounded as she was by a swarm of friends, eagerly awaiting the next instalment of priceless poetry on her blog, ‘Littleoldladywho.net‘. I also cannot say I met Cynthia Jobin in the traditional sense of the word; I was struck by her observations on the […]

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December 16, 2016

24 Comments

A Few Black Sheep and a Black Hole

If I was never really proud to be a banker, these are certainly not the times to have a change of heart when the entire species is steeped in disgrace around these tracts of the planet. In the apocalyptic times when Prime Minister Modi has unleashed a panacea to exorcise the land of all things […]

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November 21, 2016

24 Comments

Bombastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

All right, that is a shameless rip off from the latest opus of J. K. Rowling, also churned into a movie by Warner Bros. But isn’t this the joy of being a nobody on the Internet, that you can pilfer and filch from the mighty and live to tell the tale? I mean, like, the […]

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October 23, 2016

20 Comments

Surgical Slights, etc.

I’ve been trying to wiggle a lot this past month. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, till my face is blue in the corner one-seater as apoplectic debaters fume and combust the television over the carnage of nineteen soldiers in Uri by Pak grown terrorists. The moon over the window remains as pale as ever though. Worse, I […]

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