Sleepy Men

10:15 p.m. Inner Ring Road aka Mahatma Gandhi Marg in Delhi. The stretch of this road from Rajghat to the Maharana Pratap Interstate Bus Terminus. The broad, impressive expanse of this road is interrupted by the narrow divider where Alistonia has just begun to welcome the autumn with its fragrant flowers. Lie untroubled and asleep… Read More Sleepy Men


I am thinking of things which we do not find to be of any use anymore. Broken flowerpots, cracked mirrors and the last year’s calendar. Some of them have become useless because they have either been somehow disfigured or have lost their glow and substance. The others have become useless because they don’t fit the… Read More Hunting


Morning: At the bus stop close to my hostel they were. An old woman with two men. Visages dipped in pastes of anxiety and concern. It was so unusual a spot to think hard and ponder about immediate issues and contingencies. What worries could have coalesced the three in a huddle? The emptiness of the… Read More Polyphony