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To the girl in Palestine, from India.
To the girl in Palestine,pulled from the underworld,with bloodshot eyes, falling out, going blind,and a little brother,who will forget that you once loved him,if you died,You live forever in the free Palestine of my heart. I am in no position to make demands,but you will have to forgive my antics,everything is to get you to…
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Palestinian peace will come like Carthaginian peace and will be as useful.
Maybe there is a clash of civilizations. Americans have been calling it that since 9-11. This being true, the killing of Palestinians is not only not evil. It is perhaps even morally correct. Children, mothers, doctors saving lives, all of them Palestinian can be murdered without mercy. Why would you refuse a good thing when…
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The three holy wounds of Ranju Mamachan.
Where a once militant atheist bends his knee to religious experience In the four years that I lived inside my college, my soul was broken and remade and then broken again. I left it behind twelve years ago. It is funny that in all that time I have never known how to describe it. Don’t…
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How the Himalayas were formed
My kid asked me today how the Himalayas were formed. Both of us were prepared. “When two supersized continents fall in love, they find ways to sleep in each others arms, regardless of how dreadful and primitive an ocean stands in their path. The storms and the waves will warn you: true love hurts like…
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An ode to an ancient ocean
We are all agreed that life began in the oceans, but I wonder how. Could it have been that the ocean looked up and mistook the galaxies blazing with the violence of a billion stars for its own reflection? Or maybe the ocean felt like I do the frequently pointless desire to scoop up the…
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The self-sufficient man
(Or a tragic short story about his impossibility) Today I tell everyone the truth about the self-sufficient man. It is hard to talk about someone you have hated with the very fiber of your being. But I must be the one to tell this story. I am the only one who can. The self-sufficient man is the kind…
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Two teeny-tiny Indian love stories
(You could call them cautionary tales) Part-1: That she is a being of pure love. Varghese comes every morning at 7 o’ clock and takes me. There is no surprise in it anymore. I can hear the door of the truck slam shut. There is no love in that sound as there is no love…
You have a story you don’t know what to do with?