Beyond Raavi

It wouldn’t be strange if Darshan Singh went insane after those episodes. His father passed away in the house where he had dwelt all his life, his mother went astray in the remains of a Gurdwara, and Shahni, his wife, gave birth to twins. Two lives that manifested through the two boys. And amidst all…

La Jetée

At only 28-minutes long, La Jetée is a brilliant short film, with Chris Marker proving a film with just photos, and voice-over narration can be as powerful as most films. An unnamed man with vivid childhood memories is selected as a guinea pig for a time travel experiment. He is sent to the past where he…

By The Window Where The Sun Goes Through

Plato had suggested a metaphor for the mind. It is, no matter how much one denies, full of notions and thoughts, fluttering like birds inside our head. But the birds, he had said, need to settle in order to recognize those ideas. And for Som, the moments of calm, when he could let the birds…

The Empire Writes Back – Rewriting as means of Resistance and Confrontation against The Empire

In the preface to the Penguin English-Hindi/Hindi-English Thesaurus and Dictionary, Arvind Kumar and Kusum Kumar write that “Language historians, population geneticists and archaeologists believe that a band of early humans, perhaps no more than 2,000 strong, acquired the amazing faculty for complex languages and invented linguistic communication. Blessed with the many advantages of meaningful speech,…

Phantasmagorias At The Ghat

​The coarse stone-steps chafing my palms, I heard the the river’s incessant dirge, as it lost itself, slowly, to the sea. It’s vanity tasting salt the first time. And I lamented for Ganges, for it lost with itself, unmistakable infinities of sanctity, every second every minute

Midway, somewhere

(for Naoko) You remember? how every-time you bid me farewell. As if you were leaving forever. Love unfurls because it has to unfurl. Wearing the disguise of a postcard, (you know how it is, everything’s there! On the surface) yet it has to bloom like a letter, A very simple phenomenon. I remember, the postcards…

SALMA SINAI – AN ALLOHISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SALMAN RUSHDIE’S MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN

Nineteen Eighty One was the year of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s ‘Chronicle of a Death Foretold,’ John Updike’s ‘Rabbit is Rich,’ William Burroughs’ ‘Cities of the Red Night,’ and John Irwing’s ‘The Hotel New Hampshire.’ These illustrious books, along with others, which include V. S. Naipaul’s highly acclaimed ‘Among the Believers,’ would go on to become…

I Heard Them Asking for War

A word, holds an ocean within itself, of unfathomable consequences, driven by intent, – It seems weightless! But do we weigh words, the way they should be, before we’re crushed by their implications? I heard them asking for war. (war – a three-letter word, it seems light on the surface) It is the only resolution,…

The Country Without a Post Office

“And he walks — there’s no electricity — Back into my dark, murmurs Kashmir!, lights (to a soundtrack of exploding grenades) A dim kerosene lamp” – Agha Shahid Ali, “The Country Without a Post Office” The kerosene lamps have been replaced by newfangled means, and the soundtrack has metamorphosed from exploding grenades to ’harmless’ pellets,…

Making Ash

For Ganga, 1937—2016   I set you ablaze today! — by the river, drove home yesterday, the window open all the way, I knew you wouldn’t be waiting, by the balcony where you spent hours. Weeping knows no end, but the start is arduous. The steel breeze chafed my skin all the way home, and…

Of Kashmir

A NOTE ON THE FORM The ghazal is composed of a minimum of five couplets—and typically no more than fifteen—that are structurally, thematically, and emotionally autonomous. Each line of the poem must be of the same length, though meter is not imposed in English. The first couplet introduces a scheme, made up of a rhyme…