It happened one morning in Manipal that I was served breakfast by the universe. That morning still lives in me. I sat down on the floor with my glass of sattu, almonds and fruits ― and then this thought stream started ― Thank you Papa for buying this sattu again and again, thank you Mummy… Continue reading Served Breakfast By The Universe
Category: prose
The Car Horn
Quite like a rod would physically penetrate the chest, the sound of the car horn penetrated me. It hurt. It hurts whenever I hear a piercing loud car horn. I am sitting on the terrace at home in a small town near Bangalore, called Udupi. The sound of traffic is constant almost all day long.… Continue reading The Car Horn
Full heart, Empty Hands
Full heart Empty handed. Cannot do Anything To melt away His pain… Live with this Reality. That’s all you can Offer him. Sit with him. Miles apart
The Snail and The Tortoise
After much deliberation, she decided which of the fancy paper clips I should have, and which she will keep for herself. So I got the snail, tortoise, airplane and duck, and my niece gave herself four other somethings. Seeing the snail and the tortoise sitting beside each other, this question popped up in my head.… Continue reading The Snail and The Tortoise
How Tagore Bought Me Free Lunch In The Nilgiris
Just like Allahabad is the point of confluence of three rivers, (Ganga, Yamuna, and the chronically shy Saraswati), a small town in the Nilgiri mountain range is a confluence of three South Indian languages: Tamil, Malayalam, and Kannada. This town, though officially in Tamil Nadu, is right at the border of both Kerala and Karnataka.… Continue reading How Tagore Bought Me Free Lunch In The Nilgiris
A Morning In The Nilgiris
Here I am right at the edge of Mudumalai forest in the Gudalur Cosmopolitan Club infused with new energy and hope, recharged by the utterly pristine cool air, tweets of real birds, and abundant greenery. My hand is moving so smoothly and easily on paper, like it had never become sluggish and weak. My phone… Continue reading A Morning In The Nilgiris
Raavan wasn’t interested in Sita – not in the slightest
It was a personal duel between me and my teacher. She did not view it as such. My high-school teacher most probably was not even thinking of me. She was just doing her job, setting a Physics paper for the final exams. I stayed up the whole night studying, preparing. Not out of tension, not… Continue reading Raavan wasn’t interested in Sita – not in the slightest
Thank you Albert
I finished reading Writing As A Path To Awakening by Albert Flynn DeSilver yesterday night. Even while reading it I had felt driven to contact the author and thank him – and so I did. He requested me to post a review on Amazon. So I sat down today morning to keep my word. This… Continue reading Thank you Albert
A Different Durga For This Mahishasur
He just sat there receiving all the arrows I was unleashing at him. “I don’t like you,” I said, in no uncertain terms. I had been feeling such distaste, such dislike for him that I would not even look at him at the dining table. After a few days of receiving this treatment, he asked… Continue reading A Different Durga For This Mahishasur
I Have Many Mothers
Hindi is my Devaki, English is my Yashoda. Marwari is my grandma, Bengali, my maasi-maa (mother’s sister) — and Sanskrit is my great-grandma. Each of them, in their own way, have nurtured me. They all have a very significant place in my life. All the languages of India, indeed all the languages of the world… Continue reading I Have Many Mothers