The smell of sunshine on wet grass,the dew drops on a heavy morning rose,the careless flight of parakeets,chasing butterflies in the meadows;as a young child,one truly has a Charter as wide as that of the Wind,to learn,explore and frolic around. It was only yesterday that I was walking though the market area with rose tinted … More The early baggage.
This documentary captures the strife that a young Selvi is subjected to and her heroic struggle to unfetter her soul. This Canadian-produced, South India-set documentary throws light on astonishing statistics about forced marriage, and how 700 million women worldwide were married before they turned 18; 250 million of them before they turned 15. As a … More Review on ‘Driving with Selvi’ by Elisa Paloschi.
I let the atomies in his sunlit eyes Dance on my skin like starlit skies As they droop to meet the aura I exude My soul elicits Jim like a musical prelude Inching like an inchworm in soil His fingers grip my palms in a coil Kissing alive tender spots on the surface Like embers … More Not lost
He draws on her flesh With colours of the candle Molten wax to tie her down And whispers soft In a foreign tongue Slithering ‘cross her gown Her eyes-amazed At his pagan sight Heave and sigh in parts He paints her body With wild strokes Red ribbons and heaving hearts The candle’s flame flickers to … More Bondage
Letters to Patriarchy Dear ‘Knight in shining armour’, Sifting like the sands of time She twists and turns and sways like a wind chime Shorts too short,oh what a floozy! Trousers too long,oh what a prude! Well shave your beard,oh what a tramp! Oh well grow a beard,oh what a juvenile! I have a voice … More A Letter To Patriarchy.
Dear diary, When I was younger, I was taught that deception came in the form of lecherous men offering chocolates. Took me a while to realise that it can also be the pretty aunts in the family who ask you to get involved with other men. I don’t see how the world,so easily,moulds us into … More Our reality.
The slow ticking of a table clock The distant thumping of a hammer on a wooden panel The chinking of the metalled tip of my hoodie against the wall while I slowly turn into a complete circle,carefully in soft full circles,inward and inward,as if in a state of trance,waltzing away,dancing away,singing away..into this room full … More The piece of music
I sit by myself on a Delhi winter morning,curled up in 3 layers of clothing and a puffy quilt. The morning shows herself carefully from behind the blinds,as if in a careful melodious rhythm so as to not destroy the lull in my mind. Any normal woman would call it deserting one’s morning chores like … More Fire flies
Old gets jaded and doesn’t hold familiar appeal anymore.Old crumbles till lesser creatures like ants dawdle their way to them.Contrary to how old isn’t seen in good light,I believe old is beautiful. The wonder of an old book that smells like oak and musk,the rapture in my grandmother’s eyes when she sees me back home … More Musings by the beach.
What’s that noise in the distance? The soft ruffling breeze mumbling muffled sounds in a foreign tongue.The careless purring of a Persian cat stretched out on a lavish couch caressing her own coat. The old man sitting by the tea shop looking at the faint fate lines on his palms. Youngsters playing crass music and … More Welcoming 2017.