Ode to my old bicycle

Standing in the balcony, chain red-brown with rust, trusted companion through cities and states, bisecting forests, hemming coastlines, braving rain, wind and sun and the threat of theft. No fuel guzzler this, Simply powered by idli, omelette, coffee and whatever else it found on the road. Now rests aging, joints creaking, no Hercules this, powerless … Continue reading Ode to my old bicycle

Longer silences

These days when I talk to my father over the phone, we speak in shorter sentences and have longer silences. I know I must factor in the internet lag and my father's advancing age, but most of all, my receding patience.