Category: Love, Loss and everything in between
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They are selling my ancestral house. My great-grandmother sold all her dowry to buy land in the city so she could help her newlywed husband find his calling. Madhu was a city gal who refused to settle for mediocrity. She held on to one piece of jewellery: her huge diamond studs. She loved them dearly,…
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My dearest Margi Kiya, I hope you are happy wherever you are and at peace. We are good too. Life is moving pretty fast, there is so much happening that sometimes I forget to update you for weeks. Apologies. But I am assuming you are watching over my shoulder anyway, so you do know what’s…
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I used to have a blue Princess and the Pauper sipper when I was a kid On a hot summer day in Mumbai, I forgot it in an auto rickshaw My mum was so mad when I went to her crying She tried finding a similar one but I was too heartbroken over my loss…
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My father measures time with mogras. He goes to this public park to walk every evening Walks the same route, at the same time like clockwork Done that for about 16 years now And in one corner of the park, there are swings Where kids play Near the swings are some old benches where the…
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I sit at my study table in this tiny room I pay too much rent for,Writing my final essay for an Urban History Elective I am takingIt is about the gentrification of a neighbourhood in Rotterdam that I now identify as “my neighbourhood” after living here for not more than 7 monthsI have found the…
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This classmate I grabbed coffee with puts his arms around my shoulders as we wait for the next tram.It’s 2 degrees, the dutch wind is crazy, and my face is freezing. I’m wearing three layers including my cosiest winter jacket, and as I feel the weight of his arm through all those layers, I am…
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Kids who move abroad, leaving behind their families, their friends, the language they have spoken their entire life, their culture and their festivals learn to live with the shadows of nostalgia constantly following them. I am one of those kids and this blog is slowly turning into diary entries I make to log my living…
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માં તે માં બીજા વગડાના વા My nani– my mother’s mother was unwell for many many years before she moved on to the world above. I was 13 and my mother had turned 43 years old precisely that day. We were actually having her birthday cake when we got the unfortunate call. It has been…
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Why does heartbreak make us so bitter? So petty? Vindictive?Once we get hostile from all the anger, where does all the love go? Mehdi Hassan plays faintly in the background as I sit in the dark. The whisky crawls through my veins, numbing the noises in my head and making the tips of my fingers…
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In Hindu households, when someone departs from this universe to be one with god, all the loved ones are asked to take a shower- head to toe.It is part of the last rites.You have to wash your hair, scrub your skin and wipe off all and any residue of the one who has left.Their touch,…
Still Wondering 