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Recent Posts
- Poem: A swirl of one’s own January 8, 2014
- The first intoxication April 5, 2013
- I ate a paan in Benaras March 8, 2013
- Brave new world of make-up February 24, 2013
- A truth, cryptically told February 23, 2013
- Three words: Apple, electricity, redemption June 4, 2012
- Poem: Time that flies June 4, 2012
- Thanks Madhu Menon! February 29, 2012
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Monthly Archives: September 2008
Famous Blue Raincoat
What an utterly fabulous song. I’ve been humming this in my head through the weekend. And how our preferences change over the years. I used to love the Joan Baez version, but as I age (cough!), I’ve come to realize … Continue reading
Posted in Music, Film and Art
4 Comments
The street, the city and the banker
No doubt everyone’s heard of banks crumbling. Here’s what’s annoying me. In fact Lekhni and MumbaiGirl do a fantastic job of articulating it. A few weeks back, a recent acquaintance remarked that she felt absolutely no sympathy for those who … Continue reading
Song for Senti Sucker Mood
I need to stop overdosing on YouTube now. But listening to this wonderful song has me lost in its lyrics. Despite the fact that seeing Asha Parekh’s face makes me want to bang my head on the nearest table, I … Continue reading
Posted in Music, Film and Art
8 Comments
On Ghazals
The fascinating thing about a ghazal is that it lives a thousand lives. Each time it is sung, it assumes a different form. It draws from the languor of the audience, or from the acoustics of the venue. The same … Continue reading
Posted in Music, Film and Art, Rants and Rambles
4 Comments
Poem: Why Mosquitoes Bite Her
She shows me the red bumps angry on her skin. She has been bitten. Mosquitoes chase her everywhere. Her blood is sweet. She scratches the bumps and I try to make her feel better. Kannamma, some send pigeons, and others … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry and Fiction
3 Comments
Fiction Fragment: A Starched Shirt
He likes his shirts starched and well pressed. Pure cotton shirts, creaseless, like a baby’s bottom. She does it for him. She doesn’t mind ironing. There’s almost something hypnotic about watching the creases vanish under the ironing box. Today morning … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry and Fiction
26 Comments
