Vermilion

Vermilion

Our neighbor, tall and smiling and generous, the
wife of one and mother of three, is sick. I did not
know it until I saw her in the garden, plucking
white jasmines for all gods she kept in her shrine,
beside that her long hair was short, and her skin
pale as yesterday’s old flowers, her forehead
without the big round vermilion dot. Nothing unusual
in her voice when she, in her regular cheerful tone,
asked me to visit for lunch. Continue reading “Vermilion”

Silicon Valley and Sourdough

SFO

Someone once asked me if the valley was made of Silicon or silicone.
Not really. The valley is made of ideas, ideas that change the world. Change that grows on us.
Sometimes the world wants to look large on a small browser window, then it happily shrinks within mobile applications. Keyboards go virtual. People make friendship with each other without real meetings. People create their versions on different platforms to find like-minded acquaintances. On road one day I find self-driving cars within a few feet. Continue reading “Silicon Valley and Sourdough”

Optimism in Creativity

optimism in creativity

Being a writer is a very peculiar sort of a job: it’s always you versus a blank sheet of paper (or a blank screen) and quite often the blank piece of paper wins.” ― Neil Gaiman

I had a neighbor who used to write, and paint, and read a lot. His bright house looked like a museum, decorated with his own paintings, and words collected from his own wise life. His wife was a great cook who loved feeding me some soul-stirring food from her kitchen. To me, they were the live examples of creative people full of life and optimism. I frequently  presented them as example when friends called creativity “dark” and “lonely.” Continue reading “Optimism in Creativity”

Jungle Book of Nostalgia

Trip to nostalgia

“The reason the beasts give among themselves is that Man is the weakest and most defenseless of all living things, and it is unsportsmanlike to touch him.”- Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book

It’s Sunday. All windows are open to welcome the sun in the house. I can smell French toast in the air. My mom is talking to the help in the kitchen. Four eyes glued on the TV. Dad and I, not ready to move an inch from our drawing room. On screen, Shere Khan is threatening Mowgli. There is an argument going on in the wolf family about the acceptance of a human being. I’m thinking of moving to some jungle. At least it won’t be this sunny.  I’m allowed to have half a cup of tea with sub-merged biscuit today. My tea is already cold. But I don’t mind. I look at my dad and whisper, “Now what?”

Continue reading “Jungle Book of Nostalgia”

In Short

In short

“Life is not a plot; it’s in the details.” ―  Vanishing Acts

He is reading my analysis for twenty minutes now, stretching his legs upward on the edge of  the table. Outside his glass wall, some of my close friends are waiting for me to go for a tea break. I get bored when people read my stuff silently. I get annoyed when my friends take tea breaks without me. But I can’t ask him anything now. This is the analysis I made after working ten hours a day. This is the analysis that kept me away from food, shower, and even my most favorite TV shows. I worked on every minute detail before calling it an analysis. After another ten silent minutes, he looks at me with a smile, saying, “It’s a great analysis- you covered everything. But can you make it short?” Continue reading “In Short”

Fictions and Feelings

©

Writing fiction is the act of weaving a series of lies to arrive at a greater truth. ― Khaled Hosseini

It was one lazy Sunday afternoon. My husband decided to do cooking and laundry to give me a break from those mundane weekend activities. Alone in a corner, I was reading the first story from Jhumpa Lahiri’s “Unaccustomed Earth” and I was sobbing.
There was a part about mother-daughter relationship that made me speculate about a time in future when my mother won’t be around. Continue reading “Fictions and Feelings”

Bougainvillea

Bougainvillea

“How quick and rushing life can sometimes seem, when at the same time it’s so slow and sweet and everlasting.” ― Tomorrow

In my side of the world, spring passes quickly. If I haven’t been out with my camera for two weeks, I find trees in floral. If I don’t see those trees for another week, the trees hide themselves in light green leaves. And then in another week, there are so green that suddenly the world looks summery. Continue reading “Bougainvillea”