Eh

I’m back home to spend time with my parents, so I’m obviously writing this in the dead of the night as the low humdrum of snores fill the house. There’s something about writing in the quietness of your childhood bedroom while taking in all the changes this year has brought. Some brilliant highs met with some equally devastating lows. The days here are a little different. The constant chittering…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the past, as one would often do when they find the present insufferable. The present, to be fair, isn’t as hard as it seems, but let’s set that aside for a while. I’ve always had friends, or at least one friend at any given point in life. The former weren’t many in number, but we were/are tight. So when I suddenly found myself at 12, positively “friendless”, I…

I’m sitting on my blue couch. A stark difference from the last few weeks where one would often find me, inside my room, in the home I grew up in. The noises are so different here. I don’t hear my mother in the kitchen or my father playing some god-forsaken video out loud. I oddly miss screaming across rooms asking him to reduce the volume — a futile attempt if there ever was one. Here, as I sip…

–––––– The thing about writing in the dead of the night, in the bedroom of the home you grew up in is that it stirs up memories. On some nights when the distant snoring is trying to lull me to sleep, I suddenly wonder why my dog is quiet. I forgetfully look at her regular sleeping spot, only to find it empty. Only to then remember that it has been so for 10 years now. In the summer of 2003, we…

Hi, here's a round-up of my year, that you definitely didn't ask for. Have yourself a happy New Year!

Here’s a photo of Leanne treating me like a donkey. As I sit in the dark in the bedroom, of the home I grew up in (something I always seem to be doing) the quietness of the night is punctured by the snoring of my parents. It’s during times like these that I lie awake in bed. It is tough falling asleep when my brain is busy conjuring situations where I become famous for my art or travel videos,…

My mother attempting to pluck some curry leaves, unrelated to this blog post. It’s around 8 pm and I’m sitting in my room, in the home I grew up in. I wanted the room to be dark, but my parents have brought out their fancy festival curtains that are translucent and make our house look fancy-ish. The festive bedsheets will want to make an appearance early in the morning when I would’ve finally…

It feels confusing to attempt to bring this blog to life. The last time I wrote I was several years younger, the greys on my head were just a few hundred, I hadn’t visited home in a while and my grandfather was still in the running to be a 100. As I sit in the dark in my bedroom, in the home I grew up in, I can hear the not-so-faint snoring of my mother. It’s been one year and one day since my…

You.

This is what you are

Sometimes you’re not home to people You’re not where they’ll find the smell Of bread, fresh out of the oven, welcoming them. You’re not the warm bed that beckons them  On a cold wintery night. You’re not this and more. Because, you are the wilderness, Where all things wild grow, Where the brave will venture out to seek you, Where the urge to be with you will be so  Strong they can’t…

If I Died Today.

If I died today I wonder what people will say. Will they whisper how I died broken hearted, Or will they speak about how I was trying to make the best of this life?Even though I stumbled and fell way more than I could manage to pick my self up. Will they speak kindly about the things I never saw or click their tongues and say, she was a fool,Always believed in love, silly to a point. Will…

It’s a game we like to play,One that frustrates us both.It’s worse than push and pull,Or tug-of-war.In our game, you build walls and I spend the rest of eternity trying to break them.Those are the rules.They weren’t written anywhere,Neither did anyone spell them out for us.But you just build walls.Some days you let me scale them, Even opening a small window so that I can peek in.But the moment it…

I miss you and I love you, Like I miss blue skies on a bright summer day, Where the clouds are all puffy and happy. Like that time we were laughing for no particular reason, But then we stopped, only to continue later. I miss you and love you, Like I love the bougainvillea that grows out of control, wild and free. Never to be tamed or held back. Always leaving behind beautiful pink…

I’m alone in a room that overlooks two peepal and jackfruit trees,Isolating, so that I don’t spread what has currently taken up residence in my body.There’s plenty for company, a murder of crows, a mother-baby Kite pair and one annoying cuckoo bird.My room has two cupboards, a bunch of deities and a painting of my sister-in-law’s great grandmother.My parents are in another city, concerned, hoping…

Dear You,

I have been driving endlessly, through valleys that are deeper than the highest mountains I have climbed. Through sunrises and sunsets, some lasting longer than the other.

Sleep is now a distant friend, so I carry on my journey alone. Often, I reach out my hand to hold yours, only to be reminded of your absence.

Voids the size of the Milky Way stare back at me. So I wonder, how an empty…