Debashish went away. I had bid him farewell. We had politely shook hands, and smiled and wished each other the very best that life had to offer. And as I watched him take those longish strides towards the taxi stand, clutching the strolley in one hand and the jacket in the other, bitter anguish and an incredible anger rose in me. And then I ( Read more... )

Meera stumbled across the road and blinked hard to stop herself from whimpering. The tears have dried over the last few months, what’s left is the numbing pain that sometimes tried to escape the bounds of control. She clutched at her pallu and tried to wipe away the droplets that had escaped like naughty three year olds.

Walking blindly into ( Read more... )

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These days for no apparant reason I keep brooding a lot and feel like life's one prolonged marathon and I am all ready to come at the very last. So yesterday, after tolerating days of mood swings and bouts of depression, Siddhartha took me out for dinner and gifted me, of all things, a book of poems. I mean, there's really nothing wrong with it. I ( Read more... )

The rains lashed by

With faint whispery sighs

And we sat still....

There were lots of unspoken words

Thwarted pride and gaping hurts

Accusations silently waiting....

Remembrances of a happy past

Of hours spent tinkering with the chimes

Of the brightly lit coffee shop; intruded....

Our reveries, moistened by the deluge

Waited breathlessly for ( Read more... )

                              
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Ever thought of the days when happiness and rage conflict together in your mind; days when you feel your self worth simultaneously with your failure; days when you cherish the honesty of your being and despair at the falsity of situations. Life takes strange turns just when you expect it to settle into a well rehearsed pattern. Once the ( Read more... )

The rains had bathed the earth only the night before, and the relief was etched out in the deep blue of the skies and the shimmering leaves of the rubber plant that sighed with pleasure in the stillness of the night. She looked out of her small narrow veranda, imagining herself like a swallow, spreading her wings and soaring in the mysterious night ( Read more... )

The lust for happiness creeps through her mind,

The longing to surpass all hidden joys

The need to feel wanted warring

With the need to withdraw…….


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My initiation into theatre and cinema, like almost everything else, was guided by my father and uncle, two of the most dominant forces in my life. While Baba is all for sensitive, subtle art, Jethu’s choices are dominated by large scale magnum opuses. But both unanimously agree to the principle ‘the older, the better’. While, not completely ( Read more... )