Of Black And Grey

Yahweh’s Journey- 1

My name is Yahweh. No, I’m not the all powerful almighty one, unlike my namesake. I am a mere mortal, bound by the same sins…

Ode to the waters

Ocean of emotion, sea of solitude.
The eponyms are many, yet so are the layers to his self.
The waters are deep, silent and calm on the surface,
With a gentle breeze that masks the dark undercurrents within.
Yet there are days when the tempests rage,
Waters white with anger, engulfing the unlucky…

Swimming in circles

The stupor of every day sameness,
Of comforts that numb your senses
While the faint voice in your head screams in the distance,
"is this what you really want?"
Maybe it’s not a voice, it’s just a wind howling.
Then the chill inside you makes perfect sense.
A journey of a thousand miles, they…

Death and all his friends — part 1

It was a rainy day, twenty one years ago. The six year old me stood at the door of the "tharavaad", my grandmother's ancestral house. She held my hand, while she talked to her old friend and cousin, Chinnan. Chinnan uncle, as we called him, was not a man you would expect to cry, even in the…

Indelible Ink

I sat down on the chair, and placed my hand on the arm-rest. The tattoo studio was dimly lit, with the wall behind me filled with the artist’s images of his life’s work. Across me, perched on a shelf sat a skull, with the initials S K written on its top. It grinned widely at me, perhaps mocking my…

To Ana, with love

Is that even your real name? I will never know. Was the story you told me about yourself real? I will never know.
What I do…

The Veritable Companions

It was a fine Saturday evening.

Ishmael

I sat on the wooden bench, the only one in shadows and looked out at the sea. The golden light of incandescent lamps lit the path along the sandy beach of Fort Cochin. I could see the flies around the lamps, teeming around the filaments as if they found their saviour, only to have their lives extinguished by the…

The Chair At Nescafe

On many a wintry sunday morning, I found myself in the chair by the “nescafe”.
From the chair, I saw the morning, and through the morning the world.
The wide open field lay before me, bound by a canopy of woods.
A lone old tree in the heart of the field, reaching to the sky with its leafless…