A week ago, I wrote When Family Becomes A Distant Memory. Khawaja Musadiq, a wonderful wonderful poet turned it into a poem, thousand times more beautiful. Although he doesn’t know the context and details I wrote the blog post in, nonetheless he wrote so beautifully. surviving on a bleak glimmer of h o p e , […]
For Simran Narwani I was looking for a friend, when you tapped my shoulder from the back and I was confused how to respond back to a recognition from a person that was not mutual. Last time this happened I was in a hall trying to remember something about microprocessors so that I could at […]
Interminable sticky hug to a sheet or pillow morning summer dreams, pseudo waking up, Hammer of the sun, hitting the anvil, a hard calloused hand trying to fight the restlessness the heat irritates its cancer with.
THE REAL IRON MAN He has an iron hand, full of wait of coal burnt almost like a cave man lifting the weight of a person’s dirt and pressing it over to its core so the next time an ironed shirt is worn, it smells of sun charged like solar flares, flat creases transfigured into […]
A poet’s letters to his muse found 99 years after his death She, the stories behind the scenes that he covered up in the lifelong attempt, to give into writing. I know he didn’t have an option. I just wish the unaddressed letters that I write and have written to people reach them before any […]
Cockroaches, I can understand that if you had our ears, you would run at the screams of my little sister, who screams like she had seen a monster crawling on the walls of the washroom when instead she had just seen you strolling in the late evening basking the glory of tubelight. But me, I […]
Today, the market was a weekday, meek customers at the whims of seemingly fixed and unbalanced prices ₹ 30 per half kg but ₹ 50 per kg. A Sikh woman gaunt as a twig with a kirpaan hanging fast, hopeful that the plastic utensils, the plastic strainers and the muddlers will find their way to […]