A Space for Reflections and Musings
A town with an ocean view. An unforgettable representation of the beautiful soul of cities that exist by the sea in Kiki's Delivery Service by Studio Ghibli. It was not conceivable to me back in my younger days that I would one day live by the sea. But as I journeyed my across life, here... Continue Reading →
One of the most inconvenient outcomes of an extended work from home situation for most of us during this phase of lockdowns due to the novel coronavirus has been the interspersed fragments of time that we used to know as boundaries. In the normal way of life, these boundaries used to be distinctly defined for... Continue Reading →
The ball of yarn falls from the chair onto the floor and bounces off the floor gathering momentum from the impact. It rolls unperturbed towards the door and slips out. A thread gets caught on a splinter peeking from the doorway and the quintessential story begins. The ball of yarn keeps rolling down the stairs,... Continue Reading →
So, today my niece told me that she writes poetry. She even narrated me three poems straight from memory. Surprised by no little means, remembering the poems I write by word is a feat that I have never managed to achieve. I do admit that I have written complex poems and simple, but for her... Continue Reading →
The journey from a shore to the top of a hill is neither straightforward nor short. It also does not mean the very start of a journey. It is the start of another journey. We have a habit of discounting whatever we have achieved up to a point whenever we are faced with the prospect... Continue Reading →
I stood in a deserted engine manufacturing shop floor. It was a block closure day. The runts of the corporate employees, we worked all through the Saturday sun and breeze. People came by; they huddled in a corner near the exit of the shop, far from where I was standing, laughing and talking enthusiastically. I... Continue Reading →
A blot on a paper does not rest at a spot. It spreads slowly buy surely, arching one leg forward followed by another and another; it seems to never stop unless it dries. By that time, it has left an impression. The blot remains for as long as the paper exists. Words are nothing but... Continue Reading →
Time. It has passed. There shall be no returning to the moment when I wrote the first word in this article. But can I draw a line through it? Yes, I can. I can also tear off this page and remove all the jagged bit of paper sticking out of the binding meticulously, ensuring that... Continue Reading →
How many times at two in the night lying on your bed in a dark room have you felt lonely? The rain lashing outside and frequent claps of thunder keeping you wide awake. All attempts to cover the blanket over the head fail. You want to talk to someone and let your heart out to... Continue Reading →
Ink Idle 