minuscule bugs of light crawl up my arms and into my eyes, I expand a dot into a thought even though I know it is in vain – for two words ago the whole process began all over again AdvertisementsRead more "Greens & Needles"
January 2018Read more "Kutch: The Rann & the Textures"
August 25, 2018Read more "Shivaji Market: A Textural Study"
my grandfather believed in a steady diet of buttermilk; mid-morning and post-lunch, and 11 AM sees little flecks of buttermilk flying every which way as someone turns the churner this way and that, in the special vessel – a mountain with a removable lid, but it holds love instead of lava – the chaas finds […]Read more "Buttermilk: homescapes (ii)"
I was born into a family where tea ran as fuel in the veins of my parents and my grandparents twice a day, sometimes twice a morning and 8 AM saw guests of high intellect or cassette tapes and fresh chapatis or mint leaves and the newspaper but always tea with spices ground at home […]Read more "Tea Time: homescapes (i)"
succinct sentences succinct sentences that bite like a rabid bitch that bite like a rabid bitch into an old wound that has become a new wound an old wound that is a new wound that bleeds like a hosepipe with one finger over it that bleeds like the water that flies back into the void […]Read more "Conservative Repetition"
you talk about orange pebbles I wonder where they’re found I can’t believe i’m still listening to that treacherous ticking sound it sits with me in english class the definition of a poet until I have to get up and walk to resist the urge to do it look, there’s no hook and […]Read more "Abstraction"