Skin.

Firm or lined, or just sallow, that weird shade of yellow, Bruised from the workouts or battered and broken from your handouts, Patchy, shaded, hairy or tanned enough to never detan, Red, brown, black, pimpled, acned, wrinkled, or just glowing from the baby inside. Looking them down, All my life I’ve lived proud, In a

Open Up The Spaces.

There I was, sitting on the topmost stair of the spectators’ gallery of a playground, writing, when a soccer ball landed with a thud right on my foot. I was taken by surprise and flooded with a flurry of apologies. I wasn’t hurt, no. But I roused concern among the boys. But why only the

My happy place.

The Internet, as we all know it, can be a vicious place to be. If you still don’t know it, well, you haven’t explored enough. Right from seeking gratification to fake news, keeping up with TikTok videos and the latest record-breaking egg, medical remedies to tips on how to build your own rocket, you will

Setting Sun.

I looked up from my Kindle and out the window. The air turbulence was distracting. I wanted to stretch my legs that were getting cramped in the narrow leg space provided these days by airlines. Just a few minutes ago, the view from the window had been drab – blues of the lightest kind with

Hope.

What keeps you going on the less happy days? What keeps you from letting one night turn into yet another morning? What pushes you to breathe one more time even though it pains every time? The belief in God – whatever your religion may be, wherever your faith lies? Or is it destiny? Or karma

Valparai Tales! Part 2.

Contd from… As I sweat in the Bangalore heat, while doing absolutely nothing apart from just breathing, which you would all acknowledge is a very crucial, and from what I know the most important factor for our existence, I think back of the vacation I recently took. And promised a second post on. In my

Nostalgia.

As I stood by the the window of the balcony, my nose was pressed to it, my breath frosting the glass around my lips, I saw the winds outside swirling, droplets of water being bullied into submission, lights from the night lamps streaming through the air, making the paths of water borne air above the

Life Notes #12.

As I took the microphone in my hand this time, I knew this wasn’t a rehearsal any longer. The day had arrived, the clock had struck. I expected butterflies but there weren’t any. Not even caterpillars! I spoke into the mike. My voice faltered. I looked at my co-host for the event. He assured me to go on.

THE ADOPTED CHILD.

I sat alone in my new room. I’d tried calling up my parents but they were unreachable. Keeping the phone aside, I lay my head on the wall backing the bed. Outside in the living room, I could hear the other girls, both my age, my new flatmates, talking and laughing. I wanted to go out too,

Unravel the Travel!

As promised (to no one in general), here’s a continued set of anecdotes from my trip to Gujarat! Let’s begin right from the beginning of the trip, like is the norm unless I choose to write in reverse chronology. That’s a good idea but for another day! Anyone who’s spent even a day on Bangalore