Tuesday, June 29, 2010

None shall pass!

how people moan
when time passes too quickly
but not when
the stools don't.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Rachel Maddow on Art


A country without an expectation of minimal artistic literacy, without a basic structure by which the artists among us can be awakened and given the choice of following their talents and a way to get to be great at what they do, is a country that is not actually as great as it could be. And a country without the capacity to nurture artistic greatness is not being a great country.

Blame it on Psmith

We all know the English are poor losers but this is ridiculous! Crying foul over a goal denied when they were thrashed by three.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Searchers

I come home one evening and kicking off my shoes crash in the bed. Another nightout followed by a hard day of work where I had yawned and excused myself every five minutes. I lie with my hands spread at the side staring at the ceiling, too stunned with exhaustion to close my eyes. The mobile buzzes. I fish it out of my pocket and bring it to my face to read the SMS informing me that someone has expressed interest in me. The hand drops and holds the mobile loosely to my chest. After a few minutes, I rise, the mobile slipping away and falling on the floor with a clatter, and lurch towards the laptop.

A beautician from Allahabad, twenty-seven, a turned-away profile with heavy lipstick and sleepy eyes. “i know person who educate, self depend, resposible and support. i like govt. emp. person who located in good city.

I blink at it and reread. My hand lingers on the mouse after declining her interest and moves towards the icon inviting me again to search for my life-partner.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


‘Doesn’t it get lonely?’, I’d asked Krithika after she’d tucked Ankit to bed and joined us in the balcony. A life – and a child – shared only over the weekends. ‘That’s what his job is like and, seriously, after a time it becomes a habit.’

Nidhi and I had turned to look at one another and behind our backs sought hands. We were still young then, the dullness of the hours at the office had not numbed us down yet and the novelty of being together was still fresh in us: we still made love in the morning and greeted each other with a kiss when we came back.

Habit sounded almost tragic then.

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Splendidly funny article on Pakistani cricket

The anarcho-syndicalist splendour of Pakistan


A friend came and was unreasonably snapping and angry at everything. My first instinct was to shoot back but I desisted.

Now i realize he might have been like that because he thought i was the only person he could be angry with.