The Eavesdropping Neighbour Aunty

We moved to a small two bedroom apartment (It’s total space is equivalent to an average one bedroom apartment). We have about 5 families in the neighbourhood. The people who live right next door, in a big bungalow, are the sneaky and clever ones. They are hideous, avoid confrontation, prevaricate to work around lies about […]

A Blogpost Turned Poem, by Khawaja Musadiq

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 , […]

LOL: ( Weekly (List of Lit) Things ): A Newsletter


LOL Medium Letters Header

LOL ( Weekly (List of Lit) Things ) is a weekly curated newsletter containing literary articles, poems, spoken word performances, essays, blog posts, podcasts, even songs that I read/watch/listen in a week.

This is the era of browser tab disasters. The other day I saw a developer’s tweet about how a big number of opened tabs hung his computer, corrupted his file system, only after which he stopped using his browser tabs as a todo list.

We gulp web content like crazy. Get swayed away most of the times, lose ourselves in waves of hyperlinks, to find ourselves having wasted time like it was recyclable, because of which, the word commitment doubles its meaning. I’m here to help a little.

I will ease down some of your browser tab mania through a list of small numbered things that I read in a week so that you could enjoy them, and get back to work. Who has time in this world!

I have one more BIG REASON, why I started this.

If you’re game, or you play games, or if you don’t.

Okay, re-try.

If you want to give a shot to read what I read over, in a week, please subscribe! Don’t worry, I’ll only nudge your email once a week every IST Sunday, and you’ll always have a tiny little gray colored button to unsubscribe if you happen to not like my curation!

Subscribe here

and please share, share why? Because you are BATMAN. No please seriously, if you know people, have friends who might like this, you could forward them the link. This is the only medium I can reach out to more people through you. I’m a terrible marketeer and a publicist. I’d really appreciate it. Thanks!

The Story of How I Chose My WordPress Username

In the continuous and varied attempts to feel close to my deceased grandfather, I’d come to know that he was a very devoted follower of Swami Vivekanand. This was 7th grade, and we (my brother, nani (maternal grandmother) and I) were all packed up to spend our summer vacations at my Massi’s (My mother’s first sister) in Nagpur.
Like a little kid wanting attention, I was unintentionally pretentious. I packed the first book I found of him from my father’s collection to read over the 2 day train journey. Our berth neighbours were an old couple and a mysterious man who was silent for most of the trip.

I had two books actually. A short version of Shakespeare’s As You Like It, and Swami Vivekanand’s book, I don’t remember the name of.

Because As You Like It was shorter, I finished it on the first day. When I started the second, on the second day, I was interrupted by that mysterious man when I was on a page in the 20s. He said rather indifferently


“Go to page 84, find a piece of paragraph which has the word dispassion in it, read it a number of times, until you are able to explain what it means”.


I assented tacitly.


After reading that paragraph over and over again, I could only come up with an obvious definition. I replied with it, feeling like the weak defense team in an NBA match.


“Dispassion means lack of passio(n)”, I said.


I’d not even completed the ‘n’ in passion when he interrupted again.


“No, it doesn’t mean that here. Why don’t you keep that book down, and read it some years later from now”.


I was taken aback. The other berth mates, not knowing what he was implying the meaning to be too, kept silent. They just looked at me blankly, so did I.


I was embarrassed and dejected at my lack of knowledge. I did what he told. His voice was so audacious that it was hard to go against it. As a child who’d often do the things denied to him, though I closed the book down, I kept asking myself what it meant in that paragraph.


Ultimately, I gave up and ate then slept. Until my sophomore year, when I woke up, meditated and opened a chapter of Celebrating Silence where I found my answer.


Hence theguyonethetrain.