An Author in Making
My lover arrived in the winter of my thirteenth year, though I did not know it then. It came as a shiver that refused to leave, a cold that lived beneath the skin and would not be warmed by blankets or tea or the sun that fell across my bed each morning like a disappointed sigh. The doctors …
Continue reading about Happy Valentine’s, My Love – Thank You for Not Beating me Today!
Some magic requires no wands. It is a quieter craft—the gentle, persistent pull that keeps scattered stars in the same constellation. For three decades, in our constellation of schoolyard souls, that magic has been Preeti. She is the weaver whose hands never tire of tending the threads …
“Ven, cariño,” I call, patting the sofa by the balcony where Madrid folds into itself in terracotta and laundry lines. The rain here is different—cleaner somehow, less perfumed than Pune or Mumbai—but at sixty, I have learned that rain, like memory, changes flavor depending on where one is …
Nostalgia is not a country on any map, but a territory that blooms in the periphery, a treacherous silt that gathers in the hollows of the night. The past is a gravity that bends the light in the room. Many yawning nights have been spent rummaging in that faint, magnetic field for the …
The echoes of laughter have barely faded, cake crumbs still lingers in those unexpected corners, and every plate is stacked with memories.
Our home is quieter now, after the sparkle of the 16th birthday party—this time made even richer with Nani’s gentle embraces, Soma’s bossiness wrapped in …
