Dearest darling, Consider this our first letter. I’ve often wondered – either walking alongside you or standing against a railing preventing me from jumping to you – if you were a woman or a man. When I walked next to you, you lead me on. I went where you went. You spoke. I listened. You … Continue reading A letter to the Thames
Category: travel
Stevenston Sea, between Largs and Glasgow. When I decided to get off the train midway, he was reluctant to follow. I promised to get him back in time, in time for the nothing he had planned for himself. For the something of mine. But before I could note the name of the sudden town, Stevenston, … Continue reading Stevenston Sea – A Sea of the Absurd
"Waiting is also a place: it is wherever you wait." The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood Noise is inevitable on trains. Quiet Zones are only an invitation to lesser noise. On an unusually warm summer night in Scotland, I was on what I’d like to call the noisiest train. The Scotrail from Glasgow was filled with … Continue reading Waiting at Ardrossan South Beach
When I landed at Linate in Milan, I stopped saying Lyn-ate. I said it right. I said it Lyn-ah-tey. I used a coin phone to call India. Mother, I’m here, I said. God bless you, she said. Dear Milan, I asked myself that day who you were going to be, to me. I stood outside … Continue reading To Milan
We're at Vaclav Havel Airport. He’s older than me. 25, to be specific. His green full sleeved shirt has become a part of him. He’s worn it so often that every time I think of him, I think of him with it. He returns from the toilet, sits next to me. I have to go … Continue reading Vaclav Havel Airport, Prague
Ports are places of many comings and goings. But there is a stillness and silence in them. Porto Antico, the old port of Genova in Italy did not smell like the sea. It smelled like a culmination of journeys. “There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is … Continue reading Porto Antico
Genova Voltri, 8th June. I have mixed feelings about the sea. I forget it sometimes – that somewhere beyond this city I live in is an end of land and an immense of water. When I remember it, there is an urge to go to it. As much as I like the word ‘eternal’, there … Continue reading Genova Voltri – An Italian beach
More than often, places become their people. Rarely places become their fictional people. There is no better example for this than the city of Verona in Italy where we head to Juliet's House also known as Casa di Giulietta. When you walk out of Verona Porto Nuova station, it looks like any other city. People … Continue reading Juliet’s House (Casa di Giulietta)
It is a purple night. The coniferous trees are tapering to the sky in dangerous sharpening of tools. The canopied ones look like fleshy scythes. Kenilworth Castle is a mound of black. We walk down to Abbey Fields Park. Two parapet walls on either side mark the entry to the parking lot. There are other … Continue reading Abbey Fields
Chidiya Tapu brought this back - One of the earliest memories that I have of being a child are those where my mother animatedly fed me. She’d bring a plate with my food, sit next to me and patiently ball the food, craftily hiding any elements that may at sight inconvenience this every day ritual … Continue reading Chidiya Tapu, South Andaman
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