He writes of the isolation of chasing material dreams. I saw exquisite poetry laced with slivers of pain.
I’m learning a powerful lesson in communication – that it is sometimes better to be silent.
I left work late but determined to use the remaining hours. The back of the cab was silent. I got to my to-call list, hitting deadends. I paused for those rare seconds in a Mumbai day when one thinks of absolutely nothing. Then I realised I was flying. Riding flyovers…
Two strangers who once were not. Or were they?
I’m enjoying the company of books & plants. For the first time these don’t feel like escape from the loneliness between men. It makes my past feel like vertigo.
Alone time doesn’t always look like this. More often than not, it’s faded, crumpled, tattered even. But it’s important.
I haven’t written anything new through October. It wasn’t a bad month though. Far from it. The rains petered out and I think I dealt with my least favorite season a lot more gracefully than I usually do. I know it often seems like I’m endlessly complaining. But only I…
How do you go from being a girl that boys like to being one of the boys?
My highs & crashes are marked by my being in love. I’m beginning to wonder whether a relationship is worth the tumult. I’m peacefully single on the plateau.
Cliches, clichés. Cliches are the cliché of every woman’s life. Our worlds are constructed on set-in-stone clichés. Even transitions are clichéd, at specific times, in defined ways. You know what the biggest cliché of an empowered, modern woman’s life is? “Love yourself.” Nobody tells you how this is to happen,…