Friday, January 25, 2008

On suicide, Wandhama and, perhaps, everything else in life

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This evening, a middle-aged man with receding hairline jumped from the top floor of my office building and died on the floor, next to a prom...
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Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Friends don't die

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“He was carrying his revolver when they shot him dead.” The old caretaker at the Ghadar Memorial Hall in Jalandhar takes out a blue handkerc...
11 comments:
Saturday, December 08, 2007

On the Kodak paper

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Beneath the red quilt, your memories seep inside me like brandy. The days are shorter now and, in the night, when I am sometimes awakened, I...
5 comments:
Sunday, November 11, 2007

For old time's sake

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Theek hai - so be it you said, promising to buy me a pocket watch. Opening its lid, I'll watch seconds glide into years; wait for Capta...
1 comment:
Friday, October 26, 2007

One of those days

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Sometimes, nothing matters in life. You wake up, stumble towards the balcony, pick up the bunch of newspapers, remove the rubber band which ...
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Friday, October 12, 2007

Hindi post

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I have just written a piece in Hindi for a friend's blog. You can access it here .
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Thursday, September 06, 2007

Is the apple tree still there? (Part2)

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Twenty-nine years ago there were very few houses there. And those had no boundary walls. The blossom-strewn patches of grass outside a house...
7 comments:
Saturday, August 18, 2007

Is the apple tree still there? (Part 1)

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Suhail tells me of a boy who went with him to a boarding school, in a remote district of Kashmir. The boy, it seems, felt home sick, time an...
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Friday, August 10, 2007

Dal lake, Kashmir

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So many stories to tell, from Kashmir. Watch this space.
8 comments:
Monday, June 25, 2007

The boy on the highway

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I shot this picture in January 2006, on the Barmer-Jodhpur highway, in Rajasthan. This boy came to us out of curiosity, and performed Gymnas...
3 comments:
Saturday, June 23, 2007

The old man and the rum

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Many years ago, an old man took the above path, one moonless night, in Lansdowne. He was going home, after visiting a friend’s place. It was...
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Thursday, June 21, 2007

Lansdowne, this time

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Sometimes, you have to revisit a place in order to understand it; to find new meanings. It is somewhat like putting your hands in an old pai...
5 comments:
Sunday, May 20, 2007

Love is an old shirt

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It's a Sunday today. I think, if I visit the coffee house in the evening, I may be able to spot you. "He wonders, why do I insist o...
7 comments:
Saturday, May 12, 2007

Seven seas in Chandigarh

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Memory is vision. Even when the summer heat in Delhi blinds me, I can clearly see a swirling ceiling fan and a wet floor. I can also hear so...
2 comments:
Sunday, April 29, 2007

At the Ajmer Dargah

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Saturday, April 14, 2007

Nights are tough

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Eleven years have passed in this city. Next to where you are breaking your promise of serving breakfast only to me, I remember buying a book...
14 comments:
Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Letting it go

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A time comes when you have to just let it go. There is no planning; no schemes are made. If you try holding it, it will pass any way, like s...
1 comment:

In the name of God

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History sometimes likes to play Dumb Charade. And while doing so, it takes the aid of very unusual props to enable ordinary men to analyse i...
4 comments:

A summer dream

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I imagine you sitting on a chair, doing nothing. You are just staring through the wire mesh of the door which opens to the balcony, overlook...
1 comment:
Monday, March 12, 2007

Rains wash away everything

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Rains wash away everything Rancour. Vomit. Tear stains. But they bring back in torrents Memories. In one such rain When my world is deluged ...
1 comment: