food, memories and Pune nostalgia
June 2018, from a conversation with a friend “A writer is forever trying to get his reader to taste. Taste my world, he says, smell it, ingest it. A novelist...
boys/girls lockerroom and the sickness of it
'read about the bois locker room?'i sent to 5 friends as i processed the details, and pasted a slip of paper on my laptop's camera hole.someone said 'oh so...
a letter to you, through this mist
the white noise you have left behind in the mist...those eyes are books, that body of work the marking of a lifetime lived wholely. every interview, a time...
an ashen spring, like never before
some mornings its almost as if natures beckons me to wake up early, at ungodly hours and then lose myself into the interplay of what's unraveling outside the...
Pages from a control freak's quarantine diary
I read this lovely Francesca Melandri advisory to the UK from Italy here just about an hour ago and made some parallel notes in my diary. Adding and taking...
on choice and quietness
someone in my neighbourhood tugs at their guitar every night. every night around this very newfangled and earthly hour, someone draws the instrument of their...
reminiscing in the time of quarantine
While we get to look at the other side of things. I segregate my blog with this post into: before covid 19 and after covid 19. How in a couple of days' time,...
three days to 29
i wish i could go back to the day when i finished school. the date was february 2, a day after my birthday. when i walked through the empty school...
a Lahore of my dreams!
i snuck out of home to evade that endless, omnipresent boredom that lingers heavily on when you much against your will decide to spend a 3 day weekend there....
antareen
windy nights, lonesome eyes, longwinded phone conversations with a stranger, idling about in a queen sized bed, a wistful look in the eyes that gaze far and...
time's fool
Another sick morning. Bad cold. Jammed throat, heavy head, a heavier heart and eyes that won't stop watering.I sit on the single sofa with my head tilted...
movies and books
Welcome to ekchidiya by me, anandi. journalist | proud Rahul Dravid-era person | #littérateur | a cinephile | pluviophileSign up now so you don’t miss the...
Friends, Romans, countryppl, lend yourself your senses
Taking an auto in Delhi right after the rains, right after the giant saffron sweep, this exhilaration on the roads, this gushing on the faces of auto and...
an interview with a writer
Translated from Kannada by Tejaswini Niranjana, Jayant Kaikini’s stories in the collection No Presents Please cast an unnerving glance on Mumbai and its...
wordy pains
it was a regular workday morning. I was looking forward to reading some articles in this week old edition of the Saturday magazine I work at, when words...
rum toddy and a nine-chambered heart
I read a book last night, after a couple of rum-and-toddies And I woke up with this beautiful image in my mind That I was with the characters of that book I...
~ apricot tales~
slow erosion a kind of gentle decadence a small nudge a decease so genuine you feel compelled to be moved the uncertainties, they glimmer through a strange...
back in the day
I am 25 ebbing on the heavier side of it, and I tried watching Umrao Jaan. I could not keep up with the note-taking-and-watching-the-movie-act for more than...
cat man
a dispatch straight from the society where i live he rings the bell with the crisp ding-dong and waits as i lug myself out of bed, drape a shawl over my...
~quiet~
its a livid thump dying a slow remorseful death in my body. the sadness dissipating out of the pores. silence echoing in aplomb.a there are solemn walks,...
