When Reading A Book

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I finished reading Eka Kurniawan's "Beauty is a Wound". Even though I think I did not fully like the book, when asked about it, I could not bring myself to say so. It did not take long for me to realize that I was gently being... Continue Reading →

Reading and Being – 2014 to 2017

One of my pastimes, when I am engaged in otherwise mundane chores, is to think of the ontological explanations to my existence. On quiet afternoons I end up reflecting on how I have ended up as who I am. Wishfully, over many such reflections, I try to understand myself better. It is a quaint and non-aggressive... Continue Reading →

Oct 1st 2017, Brooklyn

Help me out here, will you? Why write? I mean, why write? What I write I want to read. What I want to read I want to experience in some form and what I don't experience leaves me screaming for it self-pityingly. Admonitions of "but you can't have it all" or "fucking nonsense, grow up" make me... Continue Reading →

Casteism: Annihilation of Caste

Come, let us talk about Ambedkar. Please make yourself comfortable. Fold yourself into a comfortable sitting position. A cup of water or coffee or tea maybe? You know, this week I read an annotated version of "The Annihilation of Caste"(AoC). This I think was the third or fourth time I revisited this work. The first... Continue Reading →

On Justifying Reading Slumps

I do not know at what point reading became an obsession with me. I do know, however, exactly when reading stopped being an obsession with me. Yesterday, at around 11 am EST. It was no startling awakening. Nor was the resultant revelation a portal to Nirvana.I suspect I knew all along that reading was a... Continue Reading →

 Factotum – Why I Read Bukowski

Even my spontaneity is planned. That is why I read Bukowski. Google Maps ensures that I don't even get lost, sealing my last bastion of unpredictability.That is why I read Bukowski. Somewhere underneath all that filth and grit, I want to believe Bukowski's sadness exists untouched. Somewhere beyond all the boozing and whoring, I convince myself there... Continue Reading →

Bad Feminist and Feminist Thoughts

I really liked Roxane Gay's collection of essays on feminism. It was intelligent and engaging. I warn you that this is not academic material. So if you are well along the path of feminism, have (suff)raged, burnt your bra and smashed patriarchy with those unshaven armpits, Bad Feminist might not withstand your rigor. Rage on, we need more... Continue Reading →

Moby Dick – Ahab’s Obsessions

When I first came to New York, and if I am not careful even now, I had a tendency to walk looking upward. At stoplights my eyes are drawn to the topmost floors of the tall buildings lining Manhattan where angry NYPD helicopters flit to and fro, like huge metal dragonflies startled from their rooftop sunning sessions. I follow their... Continue Reading →

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my love affair with Russian literature

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