I learnt chess from a girl on a train. Heads up, this is about the chess and not the girl. Though back then, it might have been the converse. I was eleven, and my memory is faint, from what I can glean, I had a magnetic chess box, worked out well on a train meandering … Continue reading Freestyle chess
Dear friend, I dreamt of you today. We were lunching at a restaurant. Maybe with our wives or girlfriends. Or not. It does not matter. You looked the same like you did five years ago. I’m guessing so did I. But I can’t be sure; I couldn’t see myself. Hey, it was a dream. We … Continue reading Changing Course
People often tell me I look younger than I am. Some impolite bastards even say I'm lying about my age. Now, what can I possibly gain from lying, except some pride? I have that in small measure, so any source is okay. But I digress. When someone does say I look younger, I am in … Continue reading Younger
Today, I dismantled the chords of a song and laid them in the sun. Too bad they didn't spell out my name. Today, I crumpled the sky like a towel. I wanted to see the other side, the politics of planets, and verify if physics obeys its laws when we are watching. Scratch that. The … Continue reading Look! It’s me.
When words took on shapes and bodies spoke, with outstretched arms, with dancing eyes, with the flick of a wrist, with that slight turn of the lips, with a raised eyebrow, when hands and feet and hips and fingers sculpted stories, retold histories, spelled out sounds without consonants or vowels. When we did not need … Continue reading Improv Love
Experimenting with a palindrome poem. Tongues imprison words, Vowels quietened, some dying sounds. Filtered noise is Silence. Silence is noise filtered. Sounds dying, some quietened vowels, words imprison tongues.
Some pauses, the accidental ones, the half ums, the ers, appear out of nowhere, like camouflaged speedbreakers on a highway. They disrupt rhythm, throwing speaker and listener a few inches off the ground, without caring to break their fall. But pauses, when used right, intentionally, add gravitas. Like this line. Split into three. Or this: … Continue reading Pauses
Just another day to scurry back home. Like ants, we keep our heads down and follow the trail. Wrapped in the metal armour of cars and buses, our ears filter out noise like the shutter of a camera, and still fail, as the pinpricks on the road perforate eardrums and transform them into sieves. No … Continue reading Sound logic
I write because my fingers bleed words. There may be times when they won’t, just as they have been before, and I know this hurts more than the bleeding. Either way, I must draw from this fount, whether it trickles or overflows. I write because I cannot gloat too long at a well-crafted line, at … Continue reading Why do I write?
I'm at the junction where Queens road meets MG Road meets Kasturba Road meets chaos and cacophony. Ten seconds till the lights go green, Enough time for candy floss sellers to wriggle between cars, and thrust their garish pink wares arranged radially on a towering wooden pole at passengers shielded by glass panes in AC … Continue reading Traffic lights, hawkers and cavities