Truths

  • My husband and the years 

    I met my husband for the first time when we were twelve years old. And our first meeting left me surprised, flustered and mildly unimpressed. Over the next two years, I saw peeks of him in our school, not quite often though. But, whenever he used to see me, he would smile. At first, I…

  • Mirror Mirror !

    I have noticed something in people. They usually imitate others. They emulate their peers, elders, preferred celebrities, characters they read about and what they see. They take away tiny little parts from others and make it their own. A plethora of gathered fractions adulterated within and passed on as self. Mundane yet prolific. It’s not…

  • Bou

    (Bou – Mother, in Odia) I was always a sick child. Growing up, I was mostly made to sit at home. Even during all the major festivals be it Holi, Diwali or anything. I used to be that kid who used look at others playing outside and sulk from the balcony. My parents while not…

  • O’ Father

    My father has always been one of those larger than life human beings with an insane smartness and exceeding passion for the work he does. I have never seen my father without a book in hand and I have never seen a day go by in which he wasn’t reading or writing something. Though retired…

  • Melded notes

    A part of me will always glide towards music. In a constant haste to learn, to take in the melodies and sip in the world of vibrating energy. Many have asked me about the exact moment when I knew that I could sing and I have no answer. I don’t remember a time when I…

  • Roots, I call mine

    My home is tucked in the middle of trees and flowers that my mother has lovingly planted for years. It’s a small pink Bungalow which has seen its children play in the mud, cycling in front of it, making wonderful memories and finally growing up. It has seen changing seasons, the torment of continuous rain,…

  • Fragmentary

    (In memory of my beautiful Grandmother, Asha) She liked stories. Stories which spoke of unseen striking worlds that she longed to be a part of. She would obsess about the characters and plots after getting emerged in a fiction, ask questions incessantly and dream up new lands of shooting arrows, dragons and myths. She loved…