Stories for my great-grandchild

My great-grandmother remembered very little of her life. And I wasn’t one of the things she remembered. In her memories, my dad was still a young boy. So, my existence didn’t make sense to her. Introducing myself as ‘Krishnakumarinde molu’  just made me an anomaly in her timeline.  But that never stopped her from talking toContinue reading “Stories for my great-grandchild”


Love was not always expressed physically in our home. When it was, it usually came in the form of stiff one-armed side hugs. Doting eyes and warm smiles from my parents filled my heart. There was no room left for affectionate embraces. As a result, when someone approached me with their arms wide open, IContinue reading “embrace”

strangers and spaces

Artists on the move While touring a modern architectural marvel, my eyes curiously followed the visitors and their interactions with the space. Frames like the one below, made me wonder if those who moved along the structure, were aware of their dialogues with geometry.  As they seamlessly flowed through the interlocking lines and polygons laidContinue reading “strangers and spaces”

Notes from an old town

#1 ‘I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me,’ wrote Fernando Pessoa. My heart felt the same way, so I packed my bag and set off on a journey to a dream. #2 Van Gogh journeyed to the south of France in search of the sun. The bright, clear light inspired theContinue reading “Notes from an old town”

Of Magical Corners and Poetic Light

March was about building a nest in a new place and calling it home. The meaning of home grew beyond our four walls. It included the morning musings, the quaint corners and the romantic silhouettes that we came across. Sharing a few pages from an ongoing chapter …              Continue reading “Of Magical Corners and Poetic Light”

Seeking Poetry in Routine

The morning alarm has rung and it it is time for her daily ritual. She whines at the sound of the alarm, scarfs down a bowl of cornflakes, chases after the 6.45 am bus,  exchanges greetings with colleagues, reaches her desk and starts working. After clocking out, she waits out the traffic jam, devours aContinue reading “Seeking Poetry in Routine”

Stolen Memories: Remembering School Days

‘It’s strange you know? Everything here seems smaller than I remembered it’, remarked a nostalgic J as he walked through the school corridors. I couldn’t contain my smile as I looked at J, who had time travelled to a cherished and much loved world. ‘It’s been over a decade since you left this place. HaveContinue reading “Stolen Memories: Remembering School Days”