It’s an odd year. Never before has anyone felt an urge to appreciate the mundane and the normal. Every single … More
I miss writing letters. My father would tell me this story of my childhood. When I was about 2 or … More
“… and the flood carried away the land..”, said Paatti (grandmother). “But what happened to Kamala, Vani, Paramu, Neelu and … More
My dad told me a lot of stories. Stories from the mythologies, supernatural thrillers from his ancestral home, story of … More
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.