Browsing All Posts published on »July, 2007«


July 21, 2007


It pours in sheets. The neighbour children are squealing. It pours in sheets that obscure their little dance, when they steal drops forbidden, for fear of illness, and consequently missing a day at school, a test, a rank, an academic title, a career, a salary, marriage, fulfilment. The windows busy themselves – their banging business. […]

Twenty Nine

July 19, 2007


I watched him walk from the cigarette shop, talking on the phone – to someone close, I imagine. His gait wasn’t particularly hurried. He’d respectfully kept his cigarette unlit. I was telling somebody close about the daal-fry I’d had for lunch. I waved at him.He smiled, waved back. I have no clue who he was.

Twenty Eight

July 16, 2007


There are French windows at work, overlooking a very busy road. Day in-day out, people commute along our lines of sight, rarely straying into our visions.During torrential downpours, they huddle at the unofficial smokers’ lounge. Today, a morgue van passed. And then,there are French windows along a very busy road, overlooking an office.

Twenty Seven

July 7, 2007


Lately, I’ve been wondering about what writing means to me. And why I instinctively avoid writing in first person. As much as it is an honesty issue, I figure it has much to do with dealing with me. Every time I run from writing, I run from me. I don’t like saying statements that would […]