Even a sentence, when told with honesty and courage, is an epic. That is why I have never been able to write a story. Evlo ezhudhinaalum the words seem wasted into a coagulate mess. Kozha kozhannu vaandhi edutha maathiri. I still want to write a story. I know I'll come back and hate it and... Continue Reading →
Sitting on his haunches, Maaran’s head was level with the revelers’ hips. The dancers cast distorted shadows stretched across the unfinished concrete floor littered with glass shards from countless drinking sessions. Where the floor met the wall the gangly shadows straightened up to give a sense of normalcy at the very end. Already Maaran had... Continue Reading →
Luckily my neighbor's son died when he was in his early twenties. His mother was completely devastated. I still remember her helpless wails when the self appointed master of ceremony nodded that it was time to take the body away. It reached an unearthly crescendo. Till a few days earlier his life was consumed with the stock activities... Continue Reading →
An Unwitting Spectacle The last two months I have been making slow and delicious progress on the Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. I also think you would have had as much fun watching me read the tome. As I was reading an engaging section, where The Count makes a particularly daring escape, I thought I had... Continue Reading →
I loved the book. It took me 3 days to race through this book. 3 days of pure plain imagined nostalgia. The writing is lush, the characters true and the commentary hardly exaggerated. Malaysia, Childhood and Tamils The book is set in the Malay region, about tamil immigrants in the 80s. I was looking for a... Continue Reading →
The three of us who walked into the YMCA grounds in Chennai to sample the books at the Chennai Book Fair 2015 made a motley crew. A middle aged professional, a fussy old lady and a simian youngster. Each I suspect had an ulterior motive all connected with books. The book fair itself was a... Continue Reading →
Park Slope, in Brooklyn, is hippie haven. Well dressed intelligent looking people of all ages congregate in coffee and tea shops tapping away on their macs denouncing corporations and toting organic bags. Coffee shops abound with barristas disdainfully nodding to indie music. Sitting here I have a deep sense of guilt, not unlike what a charlatan might... Continue Reading →
A confused South African Indian musing about life.
my love affair with Russian literature
Pandora's Box for Art Lovers and Beauty Seekers
Lesfic Author
As I navigate through this life ...
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