Actually, it wasn’t scrap. Individually the cardboard boxes couldn’t have been heavy. But the man seemed to be straining against the weight of the boxes heaped together. Continue reading Scrap
It brings a certain perspective to our lives, doesn’t it, this imagining ourselves as we live a moment as part of a larger picture where we conveniently become the central character which we are in our own minds in any case. Continue reading Our Lives Are Sitcoms
I sometimes seriously consider going out of my way and doing something otherworldly just so that I am armed for once with an answer to that deadly question: What’s new with life? Continue reading ‘What’s Up?’ and Other Lethal Questions
What have we other than our own vulnerability to serve as our tickets to connect with other human souls? Continue reading On Being Vulnerable
A sweet sort of restlessness steals over me. I sit smiling. World sits also, next to me. We both have coffee in companionable silence. World asks me, “What do you want?” Continue reading World and Me
It was far too pleasanter an exercise to approach someone in college and talk the little I could talk. Continue reading On Making Friends (as an Adult)
Will people imagine what our lives were like? Will we be reduced to a sentence in a history book, all our anxieties and fears and panic hiding in shadows behind the few words accorded in our memory for momentary commitment in the mind of some 14-year-old who’s far more interested in knowing science? Continue reading Imagining History in the Times of Covid-19
If I convinced myself I didn’t exist, would I cease to be? Continue reading Some Existentialist Musings
But really, what is this obsession about youth and being young? Continue reading Why Are There So Many Young People?
When I’m riding on my bike, everything and everybody is a flurry of colours joining together over the grey cobbled roads meandering through the many potholes. Continue reading Mumbai, You Are a Blur to Me
Is there such a thing as a book growing on you, long after you have actually read it? Continue reading Books That Stay
The grouse isn’t that I haven’t achieved anything yet. The grouse is that I haven’t quite started, that I am carrying a dream, reluctantly almost, on a back that is already world-weary without even experiencing much of it yet. Continue reading What’s The Point of Anything at All?
One aspect that draws me to stories and narratives is the idea of how people spend their days, or how the author shows people spending their days and living their lives every day. Continue reading How We Spend Our Days