It has come upon meonce more, this month ofinquisitions, the detourto the roads I never thoughtI’d take. Behind me and beyondthe misty miles, lie themuch-dreamt meadowsthat will never be my home now. They beckon me yet againlike the foliage of…
From the Diary of a Covid Positive Fugitive
It was on the Saturday the 24th of October, 2020, with the three days’ holiday in its infancy, that I dozed off with a mild ache pulsing through my meagre frame, right after the morning bout of toast and ginger-chai. The beautiful holiday lay sprawled at my feet like a tranquil lagoon, as sparkling and deep as could come the way of a middling bank employee.
This Drop Come Home
This drop on the sill, a distant cloud come home on wings of heaviness, or grief as I know.
Month of August
Sullen rain simmers, pretends to slalom yet surrenders,recoils in the clouds of sodden discontent.Arid thoughts smother the sapless stalks of life.It is the month of August, the fat middle ofan unrelenting virus, spinning off the sporesof a shivering November,it’s nowhere…
Exit the Ghost of Blogger
Confined to the peripheries of my home, looking out the window at a mysteriously pink moon rising day after day, I have of late been forced to cogitate on the wonders of being alive, the hump in the lawn not…
Such a Wuhan Moment!
I wonder how many of us remember Wang Weilin? Truth be told, I had the luxury of combing the server farms of Google for the uncouth secrets of the wicked world before I tossed that one at you. I am…
Mind Lies like a Mango
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…
In Which Leia Doesn’t Eat the Ice Cream
(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…
Lend Me the Assassin
What memories have etched this incision in the night?The heart will not crumble—without a reason—in the night. The throbbing in the air is the labour of my breathing,The chorus of the sighs is a petition in the night. The splinters…
Bruno’s Story
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.
Luna’s Story
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.…
Moondust
Like a penitent pigeon, grief has settled again on the ledge;
Molten moons have lingered and shone in vain on the ledge.
One Grain Amongst the Storm 