-
Mulberry
And when I take off my glasses, everything turns bokeh. The beauty is the out-of-focus at times. I am wearing a woolen cap made in Iceland. What are you doing? The blur is a beautiful thing, you know. It tells us we are there somewhere, just not close enough. People look like thumbprints from here, […]
-
Cycle. Years ago.
I will speak. You will hear me someday. I have read enough books and played with enough guns to know that this can’t be it. There’s always that last bullet that you don’t manage to miss. And you fall, hoping that this is the fall that saves you. I remember falling from my cycle. It […]
-
The Kitchen
“The kitchen is the part of the house that can tell the most things about you; whether you cook or not (one would say yes, if not every day, at least fairly regularly), whether only for yourself or also for others (often only for yourself, but with care, as if you were cooking also for […]
-
Lolita was a revelation. The incomprehensible beauty of the grotesque. The perversion and the plight in the novel is so extreme that I wanted to physically turn away from the book just like I want to turn away from other unpleasant sights and smells. But, it’s not like the faint fragrance of a french perfume […]
-
http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/73/73icecream_grossman.php An interesting article. But sort of ignores the point that this sort of ‘translation’ of sight into taste is a dangerous one where the person tasting this ice-cream will associate the horrific sights (if any) to a rather pleasant taste. Say, a violent film might have a raspberry flavour forcing the taster to associate […]
-
A night in Old Delhi.
It felt like a film. And all of the old Delhi in its nightly beauty seemed like a blur background. Let’s leave it like this. A photograph, of sorts. Preserved forever as the present without any distinction of time. Maybe also like a silent film where dialogues come after the moment, sometimes skipping it altogether. […]
-
It is all a story in the end. The days spent in loneliness become sentences. And my memories turn into illustrations. I find it rather strange. I know I would laugh at you if you described rain as just water.
-
> “There are three hypotheses about the inhabitants of Baucis: that they hate the earth; that they respect it so much they avoid all contact; that they love it as it was before they existed and with spyglasses and telescopes aimed downward they never tire of examining it, leaf by leaf, stone by stone, ant […]
-
> بات کرنی مجھے مشکل کبھی ایسی تو نہ تھی جیسی اب ہے تیری محفل کبھی ایسی تو نہ تھی
-
> What you do, how you do it and why is all irrelevant in the larger structure of things.I have been mostly happy lately, but days like today make that irrelevant.Happiness has no consequence. I went to watch a play today. I might go watch a few more. There is a summer festival.I like Delhi. […]
Beyond Six Rivers 