A rat, some tea and a butterfly

It’s an odd year. Never before has anyone felt an urge to appreciate the mundane and the normal. Every single…

Do you have a letter for me?

I miss writing letters. My father would tell me this story of my childhood. When I was about 2 or…

“… and the flood carried away the land..”, said Paatti (grandmother). “But what happened to Kamala, Vani, Paramu, Neelu and…

My dad told me a lot of stories. Stories from the mythologies, supernatural thrillers from his ancestral home, story of…

I saw him conversing with time.

The sublime conversations of the consciousness wanting to constantly overpower the human desire. Perhaps that will always be the way of the world.