It sounds grand writing like this. At the end of another working day, I drive down 3.5km instead of 35km, and there I am. The road seems dustier than ever before. I park the car in front, the road leads to nowhere. In front, furious construction for some more identical multi-storied monsters that house these […]
It’s all very quaint and Victorian. We don’t call them PG for Women. Or men. It’s PG for Gents. And PG for Ladies. The “gents” in question live in some slovenly conditions. The ladies, it seems, are a little better. But they remain squashed. Sharing a little room with 3 or 4, and calling it […]
Wandering through the bylanes of Marathalli, Bellandur, and various other villages was a revelation. I am a traveler, and yesterday I traveled far and wide through some of Bangalore’s dustiest, narrowest, and barely livable localities. And no place I had traveled to quite was so appalling in its squalor. Row after row of houses. All […]
Looking down the far edge of the wall, there she was. At the same place as she always had been. She had this one place that she occupied, hugging the walls of Bowring Curzon hospital. In front, several fast food restaurants. And the hub and throng of Shivajinagar’s people as they moved through its narrow […]
I have fought against it. Resisted it. Battled it. Yet, I find myself shaking off the cobwebs of online obscurity. Like a baby that has opened it’s eyes to the world, I find myself on the Internet. These pages might offer succor to the weary, I hope. I kid myself. I do not dream of […]
I have been reading this book called Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walters. Juxtaposing past and present with equal ferocity, I feel myself being yanked back and forth into time periods that we never can in real life. That’s why we love reading so much. The tenacity of knowing that we can cling to illusion and […]
This blog has been so neglected of late. It feels like an abandoned child, and so does my writing. I haven’t written anything in months – I wonder why. As a writer, I have never felt the overwhelming intensity to just pour the crass and the crap and the beauty out of living. It’s just […]
My life has been the poem I would have writBut I could not both live and utter it. ———————- HD Thoreau. ———————- And how much would I have wanted the poem? And how much the life? Life brings poetry, or poetry brings to it life?
Why do I feel that this poem resonates so deeply with everything I feel? Frozen by Natasha Head I have seen a life laid to waste,in the name of pure stubbornness,in the absolute definition of denial. I see my own life.Caught up on the same rails,charging full steam ahead,to a tunnel where no light shines. […]