I love you – II 

You see the little crabs scuttling away – you’ve noticed how they always walk sideways? And it’s so magical the way they go gupp inside their little holes in the sand. I wonder if they’re dancing perhaps, and not walking.  I like to see you in whites. Your linen pants rolled all the way up to your…

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Paper-Cut

Phone calls are so usual, unending silences fill them. Texting is now widely regarded as the best way to propagate misunderstanding. Yes, we had letters. Now we converse in dreams. In a particularly strange dream last night, I found myself hovering over the sand, at the beach where we walked, wiping away all of my…

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Cliché

Yun na mil mujh se khafa ho jaisay Saath chal, mauj-e-sabaa ho jaisay [Meet me not in anger, beloved, Walk with me, like the morning breeze walks with spring] Φ A Mehdi Hasan rendition of the famous, Ehsan Danish ghazal, playing from a vinyl record, whitewashed walls, indoor plants, a carved lamp-stand, with a shade to…

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J’ai Oublié

‘J’ai oublié’ is a phrase I picked from an adorable movie called Hiroshima Mon Amour. Here, I’ve taken bits and pieces of insights about memory and its fickleness, that I’ve come across in films, in literature and in real life. Some credit goes to an elegant old lady of 82, Mrs. Banta Singh, who I met in Chandigarh once. She is the inspiration for this story.

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Do You Love Me?

“I love you.” “…” “I love you a lot.” “Thanks” “What sort of a reply is that!?” He couldn’t possibly mean what he said. There was no reason for him to love me. He doesn’t even know who I am, what if I’m a kleptomaniac? Well, what if he is one? What if he has…

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Shikra (Bird)

He waits, Like a bird perched on a window sill Calling out every few minutes to check on me. He waits for a story, or a poem that will tell him of love – One that throbs in his blood, One that flows in a poet’s ink, One that he would carry under his wing.…

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