It’s nine already. You have three and a half hours today – to do anything, be...
Poetry
I painted my fingernails this morning.
They look even fresher under the traffic lights. Right now,
There’s nothing but the whizz of my car
And the bellowing echoes of my thoughts.
It’s raining.
A pitter patter of summer monsoon
It’s nine already. You have three and a half hours today – to do anything, be...
She held the patient eye of the poet gazing into an impossible future across oceans...
I'm fed up with this fearfulness. Company in all its forms technological is a poor...
June, 2022 I’m cutting mangoes in the kitchen. Chaunsa and Sindhri. My first mangoes of the...
Fresh, green, born out of the earth The young blades of grass held their heads high in the wind...
Noise What’s that noise? Is it you cancelling me? Or is it the sky falling like an angel in...