Vaclav Havel Airport, Prague

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

Porto Antico

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 – An Italian beach

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

Juliet’s House (Casa di Giulietta)

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)

Chidiya Tapu, South Andaman

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

Familiar Bakewell

~ Written after leaving the familiar Bakewell ~ Some say it is in the familiarity of everyday that our soul lies. And if somehow, by some means you are detached from this familiarity, you feel a longing, an ache you wish you weren’t feeling. Losing a long kept job, finishing three years at university, marrying … Continue reading Familiar Bakewell

God in Grasmere…

I believe in God. I believe everyone gets to see God, at least once in a while. This is what happened with God in Grasmere. When we arrived in Grasmere, after a three and a half hour journey from Coventry, darkness was already setting in. We drove past Windermere, past River Rothay and the Swan … Continue reading God in Grasmere…

Canley Crematorium

She removed herself swiftly from the cab in front of Canley Crematorium and began to jot down in words the following: ‘Entrance to Charter Chapel, Gardens of Remembrance and Cemetry’. The map at the very entrance caught her eye: of course, it wasn’t everyday that she came across areas marked ‘Weeping Willow’, ‘Book of Remembrance’, … Continue reading Canley Crematorium

Remains and Leftovers – Guy’s Cliffe House

It’s called the hidden gem of Warwickshire. But we find it easily- nestled on the A429, next to the International Warwick Riding School and a few miles away from where Edward Plantagenet was supposedly beheaded. We creep quietly with our cars, leaving tracks in gravel which is wet constantly by the constancy of rain. This … Continue reading Remains and Leftovers – Guy’s Cliffe House

Shoreditch, proclaim, proclaim, art.

I was one of those people who scorned at street graffiti being called art, now I am saved. But I am not going to call it Street Art or Wall Art or Contemporary Art, I’m going to call it Art. There is Art everywhere in Shoreditch – on a locksmith’s door, on a Punjabi restaurant’s … Continue reading Shoreditch, proclaim, proclaim, art.