Words

They start in my mind, first as parts of a thought or a dream, and as the thought/dream remains unuttered, they scatter. They wander the little paths among the neurons, sometimes setting off a spark, a memory, maybe another thought, another dream. They multiply without control, sometimes they organise themselves and demand to be said. [...]

Self-defence?

Some people don’t like* the birthday gift the Government of India gave me. Yeah, that’s a lot of links in one sentence; do you think they’ll call it ‘terrorist activity’?
When Shivam called my post  “mob justice”, I didn’t like it. And then Anantha used that same label at PutVote.com, I began to get defensive. I didn’t know [...]

Bud’day Baby

Jewellery
Temples
Scandal
Maroon silk
Chocolates, chocolates and more chocolates!
The Inheritance of Loss
Lunch
The discovery that my ancestors and BikerBaby’s housed their cows in the same shed
A mad bike ride to catch a movie
A cricked neck
Laughter
The best description of coffee I’ve heard in ages 
A cricket match
Off-screen entertainment and dirty looks
Flowers from Bombay, Delhi and Bangalore
Telephone, email and orkut
The Blind Assassin and [...]

The hols are about to begin…

… and what shall I do with myself?
Should I try out those wings again?
Or lie back on a cushion
And keep ambition in rein?
I wonder whether Delhi’s going to be cold
Should I pull out the sweaters, musty and old?
Calcutta calls, Bombay beckons,
But with Bangalore, I’ll have to reckon
Tread carefully, try not to trip
Once I’m back, not [...]

A Story(2)*

He heard a cycle pull up behind him, and turned around. She was getting off the bike, pushing the hood of her raincoat back with one hand. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”, she smiled, as she climbed the steps. “Bani?!”, he said, rather uncertainly, as she took out a key and opened the door. [...]

Post (With a beginning, middle and end)

“So,” she said, crossing her legs, “post?”

She stretched out a hand to take the bundle from him. A plump, light brown arm. Smooth, newly waxed skin that dimpled at the elbow. Four scars, he counted. Not neatly parallel like he’d been led to believe by numerous horror movies, but haphazardly across the back of [...]

Post

“So,” she said, crossing her legs, “post?”

She stretched out a hand to take the bundle from him. A plump, light brown arm. Smooth, newly waxed skin that dimpled at the elbow. Four scars, he counted. Not neatly parallel like he’d been led to believe by numerous horror movies, but haphazardly across the back of [...]