On a stretch of beach, in the city we now call Chennai, home to construction that never stops and people who have eyes everywhere, an old woman lived by herself, in a hut by the sea. It is said that she had a nose for … Continue reading Premonition
If you wanted to set your life on fire, there wasn't a better combination. You have been summoned, by an overbearing and solicitous elder brother, by a timid and diminished mother, by a sick father you haven't spoken to in days, months, years. You work … Continue reading Lying in wait
I wonder if I have become immune to beauty, seeing too much of it too often. Hills and picturesque neighbourhoods, streets lined with pebbles and bicycles, parks that change colours with seasons, water that shines likes a mirror, sunsets that transform the sky into a … Continue reading On beauty
Was Tracey unhappy, or just quiet? She rarely spoke—who would she speak to? Sometimes, books gave her company. When words swam in her head and she couldn't drown the noise, she retired the books to their place on the windowsill. She called herself the Minister of … Continue reading A new ministry
Dee always maintained that she never listened to music. She liked to say she hadn't ever bought a cassette or a CD or owned an iPod or downloaded music to the computer or turned on the radio. Music is distracting, listening to it is like … Continue reading Tuneless
When I transplanted myself to another country last year—my choice, I was eager to remind everyone, even as I tried to silence the voice that told me I wasn't too different from my mother, who followed her husband to places old and new—I suddenly found … Continue reading On removing and accumulating
"Why you dressed for winter?" My friend was turning pinkish-red, exclaiming each time she checked the temperature on her phone. I was moist under my jeans, and still the same shade of brown. "The mall will be cold."