On Extremes

In light of robin and wren-lousy spring, I am more attuned to Bengaluru birds. They hoot and chatter and lurch in intervals I could never replicate – although, that isn’t saying much. I recall a cacophony hidden in a banyan tree, and a perplexing, fruitless inquiry into its origin brood. Another banyan, a couple of […]

Read More On Extremes

An April Away

An April away, across oceans and day, an unsweeping wind ruffles the dog ears by which I measure my life. Thunder threatens and lightning cracks and looming clouds give way to hail, holy as the tree-trickle that tickles my nose after the storm has passed. Dust is chased to the far side of the plateau […]

Read More An April Away

Experiments with Time

  Time slows when I am alone; every step is accounted for, every breath acknowledged. Its lazy river runs against the currents of my pace, the world building itself apiece at a time – stroked robin, damsel snow, windchime branches all buzzed on the sunset’s langor. I slow, as well. It takes me far too […]

Read More Experiments with Time

banana tree

In Bronxville, I meet a banana tree watch its leaf curve over me feel its skin between my fingers and remember every meal eaten from its hands Hands, dipped in water sprinkled dew on sadhya platters The patter echoing down a banquet procession The leaf takes its revenge, spills rain onto my nose and reminds […]

Read More banana tree

Spirals

I always told myself to be so interesting as to not bore of solitude. I don’t think I’ve followed my own advice. My mind is constantly pestering me with questions about what comes next. In everyday time, this takes on the form of keeping myself constantly engaged. But when the lights go out and I […]

Read More Spirals

India to her Monsoon

When the winds begin to blow Heralding your arrival My scorched sand is loosed I gain a life of my own I tremble I dance In anticipation of you. When you paint the sky a welcome grey And emerge from behind the clouds Whispering your presence Among the joyous cries of men and beasts Among […]

Read More India to her Monsoon

The Pipe Dream

What do I want? I fear these pages will not bear witness to that. They are warm, dripping with potential, but I will not trouble them with the irrational demands of the naive little girl housed in these bones. She whispers to me, sometimes, and the winds that escape her wrap my arms in ribbon […]

Read More The Pipe Dream

A Letter from My Future Self

I know you’re slouching. Straighten your back, seriously, would it kill you? Think about me for a second. As I write this, you are holed up in a  room, whispering a mantra of equations and key words back to yourself in the only brightly lit room on the street. And that’s okay,  if you think […]

Read More A Letter from My Future Self

Limoncello

Her eyes seemed to hint At an instinct young and wild; had a glint Like dusk light off silver Tuscan trees All that I knew of the promise of adventure I saw in those hazel-rimmed windows to her soul Perhaps it was naive to believe I could withstand the lashes Of her acid tongue But […]

Read More Limoncello

Truth and Poetry

As a writer of predominantly prose, I used to envy a poet’s innate ability to compose their thoughts so accurately into ink, invoking emotions so profound they could not be anything but truth. Then, I was hurt (“inspiration,” they call it) and my soul bled forth through my lips and fingers onto pages and pages […]

Read More Truth and Poetry