Red Flags I pack your stuffs for the fifteenth time. Your t-shirts, your gifts, your letters, the remnants of the last cigarette we smoked, one matchbox, everything goes into the plain old cardboard box that resembles me in its brokenness. I pause for a second. There are so many thoughts getting tangled with one another … Continue reading Red Flags
Home after roughly three months, I hear the front door creak in protest. Has it come to terms with me being away for so long that it doesn't want to handle another change? I notice that the colour of the wooden furniture has dulled, the polish from years ago has started peeling off at the … Continue reading Coming Back Home
A monsoon-clad evening in late July. About two dozen art enthusiasts. Photographers, artists and me, the sole writer-cum-artist. The wall in front of me of the Durbar Hall Art Gallery, Kochi, is adorned with paintings of diverse women. Strong. Broken. Sensational. And on the bottom right corner, on an envelope sized plaque, my words. Of … Continue reading Fulfilling Dreams From A Distance
Being from a conservative family who was totally against me travelling alone or changing cities, moving out has always been my (ultimate) aim in life and one which I thought would always remain a distant dream as my family would object (obviously). So it came as a shocker to me when my "conservative" family gave … Continue reading Kochi To Mumbai: Before
"This is going to be a tough one.", he warned. "I love challenges.", I beamed, the sun on my face, the wind caressing my hair with the sea just feets away. "Okay first things first, heads up on few meanings. Rukhsaar is face, Til means mole, Daulat is a whole lot of money and Husn … Continue reading Shayari.