More than a few months have passed since that night which was so desolate an affair as to be voiceless in a sea of thoughts. The swarm of thoughts that came to me swayed as if a storm was up and about, battering them with a torrential downpour of ideas that resonated with the words “If Only”. Voices talked about my fear and the accompanying frustration. I wanted to capture time and erase painful memories that stirred up a rage powered by a hundred-and-one repressed emotions and unremembered misdeeds. The most hurtful prose ever written was bursting at its seams in my mind as I fantasised writing word after word, idiom after idiom of savage nothings… Continue reading “Write Until i Think”
Dogs. We’ve experienced their uncanny ability to sense things before they happen. From earthquakes to your arrival back home, dogs can predict it all, even if only by a few minutes at best. It might not be commonly known but dogs don’t use verbal language as primary cues to understand what you are saying. It all comes from a grasp on body language and relating your facial expression with expected behaviour. Continue reading “The Language Of Legs”
You feel light after writing. You feel relieved after ranting about something that’s been hogging on your grey cells the entire day or more. Hence, writing is like pooping. Waste within you goes out. If you don’t write then you feel intellectually constipated. And much like bowel constipation, intellectual constipation is chronic and painful. Please forgive the gross but fitting comparison. Now if you would care to read further, this piece is a very contemplative, non-joking affair. Continue reading “Writing Is Pooping”
Dreams have a certain visceral quality. They follow an atypical, unthinking process leading to pragmatic ends. Yet they are nothing if not sensible. An entity of discerning nature may very well glean all the facts there are to know about the dreamer. The instinctive, intimate and fleeting moments constructed in the minutest detail have the power to disrupt reality itself. A mind astray from conscious percepts of its enclosing sphere of tangible information is vulnerable to the onslaught of fantasy – false within the constructs of an objective world but true in the mind of a prophet. Continue reading “Beyond Dreams”
I saw new born kittens today. I mean genuinely new born kittens. It was dusk and I was on a road around my house, taking a walk.
Out here, in this city, stray cats live in or near dumpsters. Each dumpster is like family territory. Continue reading “The Answer To Life, The Universe And Everything”