Bitter asks you to look within, for it holds a mirror to the face. Passions run high, when our emotions are manifested in the form of this tumultuous relationship. It is a grapple with the self, with no clear winner but sheer patience and self love. The simplest truth of them all, hence the most difficult. Read more →
The pull of an espresso is potent, and I keep going back to it. It makes me lose my sleep, it makes me cranky, it makes me feel light headed after having a quick doppio yet – I keep going back to it, bowing to the pull, giving in – unable to steer clear – investing deeply with every single sip. Yet an espresso is what an espresso does – it gives you a caffeine high and brings you crashing down – which makes you go for a followup shot and another – making one increasingly impatient for the bliss that never comes. Read more →
It is heartening to see the fair share of criticism Dear Zindagi is receiving, because the movie is making people probe and express their dissatisfaction – which is what it intends to do. There is nothing like negative feedback – it all helps us grow – and an art form is displayed to provoke, not to be praised. This is subtle cinema, and has done its job well. Read more →
I have been enamored by honest and solid design before, art which stands and simply is, unapologetic, with utmost clarity. I have been lost in the comfort of a sunny morning, a steady gaze, and the audacity of uncovered skin. I remember having been left speechless with a thunderstorm and ebbing tide, which emptied a filled canal under the moonlight. Permanency is a myth, and change is the only constant. Read more →
Share your bed, the blanket, the warmth. Shedding layers with conversations doesn’t get more real, as the two of us understand what we are, the way we are. And it’s perfectly alright, because the biases are gone, long forgotten. They exist for the outside world, not for someone you long to be wrapped around, and squeezed. Share your bed, it’s your space and not everyone’s feet look as pink in the sheets. Read more →
A muse is a sultry being.
She makes sure I write a poem,
and then slips through like the morning mist.
She doesn’t like being held much. Read more →