Musical But Not By Identity
I come from musical history. I trained in vocals & an instrument. I’ve won prizes, performed concerts. But music is not my identity.
Mr.Everyday
CUSTODY – A Spoken Word Piece
Each time I perform this, men tell me, “You really understand how a guy feels.” I still feel wrecked by my custody battle.
Different Shades of Grief
In how many ways shall I experience grief? I watched THAPPAD and thought about all the people who have hit me. In plural
Slime
It’s precarious because what can balance atop slime for very long?
Say HELP!
I’m reclaiming the ability to ask for help.
Where I Regret Doing The Right Thing
It was respite from the morning’s fight, a common occurrence in the horror story I lived in. It didn’t feel right.
I Don’t Celebrate Halloween, Can I Leave?
I thought about him yesterday. Not the angry, violent, horrible monster that the later times have made me need to remember of him, but the early times. I had to. He’s the source material for my romantic imagination. And my imagination is the only thing that rescues me from the…
Being The Story
I ran into someone who last saw me before I went through the biggest war of my life. I had to think about how to tell my story.
The Hidden Politics Of Book Discussion
I follow this blog-in-Facebook-updates called LABYRINTHS. Its picture-stories trigger off ideas, feelings and on occasion, memories. Today’s story is titled The IVORY BOOK CLUB and is a conversation between two people about the quality of literature. It felt like an instant frame capture from my own life and here’s what…
An Unequal Music
I read ‘When I Hit You’ by Meena Kandasamy and it brought me back to an episode in my relationship with music.