Stevenston Sea – A Sea of the Absurd

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 at Ardrossan South Beach

"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

To Milan

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

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

Abbey Fields

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, 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

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