Branches of breath.
( A short personal note written after meditation )
These branches extend my breath. A breath giving moment rather than breath taking, deepening my sense of aliveness…
A case for lowercase letters.
( A reflective short essay )
Almost as seamlessly as a swift summer breeze, lowercase letters made a case for their sweet softness and danced their way into our lives…
Reflection on a song by the sea.
( A short personal note written via stream of consciousness )
Her songs and her lyrics are magic, the ocean is magic, moments like these are magic. We’re all always beautiful…
On learning the language of my heart.
( A vulnerable personal reflection )
I’m learning to understand the language of my heart. It’s hurting. I can feel slow thumping throbs, swells of ocean waves that deflate in crashes…
Muggy Mumbai.
( A short reflection on time spent in Mumbai )
Muggy air surrounds me and somehow soothes me. I can smell salt in the air. I’ve claimed to hate humidity and yet…
Love letter.
( A playful stream of consciousness letter )
Sometimes love letters look like this. This love letter was written to my sweet love. The flowers were collected while wandering…
On being with my ladies.
( A prose-poem from the heart )
Being with my ladies feels like making daisy chains in the park, gripping grass, ripping grass, laughing…
Through a train window.
( A fictional short story )
A sudden jerk forced the passengers upright. The wail of a young infant, a few coughs here and there and a momentary…
An unexpected arrival.
( A fictional short story )
The smell of sweat and an air of impatience swirled around the cocktail of people…
Pink popsicles are artists too.
( A mini true story )
It was a balmy, sweaty, summer afternoon. I was locked down. My insides felt as shut off as I was to the outside world…
Childhood train journeys.
( A resurfaced memory )
This visual instantly transported me to a childhood train journey, games of snakes and ladders, a Walkman shared between six cousins…
Isolation towers.
( A short stream of thoughts written during the covid lockdown )
It’s midnight. The lights are on. Is everyone’s life characterised by a fucked up sleep cycle or is that just mine…
Crumbling corners.
( A personal micro note written during the lockdown )
The days are passing by slowly now, all of a sudden. I have the time to feel my layers. Layered emotions, layered sweat, layered longings…
In the doctor’s office.
( A true short story )
A silky draft danced into the doctor’s room, licking my feet and legs. The chill felt so sharp, I wanted to bend over and rub my limbs to warmth…
