Thinking of Ageing on a Summer Night

At 2:00 am N shook me awake. “Your father is in the closet. The light is out and he has been in there for a full minute”. The closet was a 2 feet by 2 feet vertical coffin. I rolled out of the boiling couch, my shoulders and neck aching and slick with sweat from... Continue Reading →

August 23, 2016 2

Memories of my melancholy whores

The title is meant to grab you. It is meant to convey a rawness, a feeling of dispassion and tedium born of world-weariness. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a story teller. It should come as no surprise that I am partial to his works. This work teeters on the edge of taste but given his age, stature, and style,... Continue Reading →

July 30, 2015 3