Perhaps at Pondicherry

Saturday, 12 May 2018



I once sat in a very cramped stall, and watched a young girl selling textiles. Quite naturally and embarrassingly, the shy eleven year old me looked at her intently. For she could have been in school, perhaps meddling with her last minute assignments, racing the pressing iron through her school pinafore or even tightening her braid. But today I watched her jaunty arms quickly fold textiles that soon became a mountain of riotous colors.  Her sinewy arms attuned to a brave composure, it painted a certain maturity. She was blessed with her mothers instincts, I suppose. Here I was sulking with how much my mom made me walk through the aisles of Dugbe* market. The aftermath of that was cornering myself in the matchbox shop with this young talent. I think moms sole intention was to teach me a lesson of hard work. But, I picked on something entirely different.

Ticker Tape, Rumbling Rails

Wednesday, 4 April 2018



"Pin drop silence", that's why we heard more, they said.  But we knew we were a species with an evolved sense of hearing. With our curious syndrome, we could even listen in to our disintegrating brain, it sounded like a flat tires final hiss. But then our ears were tuned into something worse - a dreaded chalk piece forcefully pinched between his fingertips which led to a highly pitched tiff with the blackboard. Adding to that, his broad shoulders could not lend a view to what was written on the blackboard. I was hoping that the bell would save us all, but I decided to play guessing games by tracing his hand movements. What looked like wiry lines gradually became symbols, and when he finally moved, in my mind I read, Speed equals distance over time. Formulas, not exactly a fan of them, in fact I wanted the law of acceleration to apply to one thing right that instant, my physics class.

The Search for Everything

Tuesday, 30 January 2018


Between two lungs, a conscious of mine took a deep breath. Flighty thoughts strayed into desolate plateaus under the view of a vigilant sun and moon, my half closed eyes. But my meek hands rested like the anchored rocks of a cavern, I suddenly found myself in. Darkly lit and tinged with rays of red, among the many quieted ones, I waited in the cavernous theatre. His grave was on my mind.