When I was breaking apart in the arms of heartache, unable to breathe and on the verge of giving up on life, you mercilessly told me to get my shit together; you kept opening door after door for me, cause with you, there's no end to dreams and dreaming.
Cold/Mess The first time I heard cold/mess by Prateek Kuhad, I - rather we- were a bridge waiting to collapse. It was everything I wanted to tell you during those cold December nights. If things unsaid could be packaged with love and a bit of heartache and sent across, this song would be it. But, you didn't listen. And two days … Continue reading Cold/Mess
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