That silver wire-thread that I walk on,
feeling as weightless as light,
as formless and unburdened by identity
as light
where love, pain and people
touch me no more
than light waves bouncing off
I’m there
I’m that
Now. Now. Now.
I almost wish I could walk this forever
But in the falling
In the sudden knowledge of weight
In the split second realisation of life
Is everything.
8 a.m. on a weekday morning. Mumbai’s crankiest best. Sweepers shuffling dust into the air with a vengeance, cars spelling out “Eat my dust” in their fumes, people shuffling to work. I stood at the bus stop frowning into thin air, waiting for a bus that was always late on…
I know it’s not February but I’m silly that wayYou know this already, my part-time boyfriendAlmost loverFriend with such delightful benefits Just as I know you dislike labels so I torment you with a few hundred moreWeekend soul mateWeeknight playmateStandby date, always on call for an SMS or two It’s…
For some months now, Clubhouse has been my new social media toy. It has also been my solace, my refuge during the soul-shattering COVID-19 second wave. I’ve made friendships of a very different kind from any I’ve had before (even counting the pioneering days of chatrooms, blogs & Twitter). Hearing people’s voices through the dark desolation of a pandemic and having those voices be what carry you into choosing to wake up every day – this cannot be explained to somebody who hasn’t experienced it. This piece was written for a theme set by my steadiest co-host, Tareque Laskar – Better Days.
My truth comes calling, on an international phone callSounding exactly like every other person who thinksThey have something important to say to meExcept this one always doesFor sure, her words are truth, her truths truer. She thinks I need to be better, work harder, be smarter at my jobI know,…
Geeat
No man is devoid of pain or love,
Unless on dope or in the grave.
Is the melancholy of being lonely,
Being disguised as being weightless.
Or is it being too close to being lifeless?