You know you’re healing when the thought of spending a cool Saturday afternoon alone at your local tapas cafe over a jug of chilled Sangria dreaming of crossing icy borders again fills you with such warmth that your stiff toes curl out in abrupt laughter. whereisshyamni@gmail.com Connect: Facebook, Twitter & Instagram Continue reading 13/24
I cannot remember the number of times I would arrive at my mother’s house and leave from the gate. Extra pairs of shoes at the front door always gave away her visitors. I could not bear the love in my mother’s eyes when she would hold my hand and pull me close to sit with her while I answered the same questions again & … Continue reading 12/24
“Madam, now vhat does a lion have to do with books?” asked my taxi driver for the evening. “uuuhh…..” “Exactly. Nahhthing.” I watched the young novel-wala outside my window disappear into the evening Dili traffic. He couldn’t have been more than 14 years old. Maybe the cab driver is right. There is no point in contemplating our accesses. His to … Continue reading 11/24
On the southern tip of India sits a temple with a blue door on it’s eastern wall always locked. Green murky waters of the 3 seas crashing ferociously outside; as if trying to touch the feet of Devi Kanyakumari. Years ago I sat outside that door at the end of an exhausting journey thinking how unjust. Shouldn’t doors of temples always be open? … Continue reading 10/24
He had a knack for breaking things. She rocked on the toilet floor with trembling hands Trying to tape the smashed pieces of her mix cassette together. She inserted it into her walkman and tried to press play. Didn’t work. She took a knife and tightened the screws And tried again. Her body sagged in relief, she finally sobbed into her chest. Born … Continue reading 9/24
Every time I get on a long-distance train My inner Simran steps in hope That this is the trip I’d meet the Raj of my dreams. I’ve ridden through mountains, lakes and deserts Jatin-Lalit on background score (through a USB!) My neck craning a little higher at every second bend. Seeking. Hoping. Waiting. And it has taken me my whole life to understand … Continue reading 8/24
Things to Give To Your Sister’s Daughter. A sewing machine. Every woman should be able to tailor her own dresses. Not many things in life bring you peace and magic. 3 meters of ivory silk with navy doves. For her to sew a dress with; to wear on days when all is falling apart. To remind her that angels do exist. And a … Continue reading 6/24
I miss the days. When cupcakes were just vanilla sponges with icing. Sprinkled with hundreds and thousands. I miss the days. When I wore fake gold bangles and played pretend in our building’s abandoned stairwell for hours. I miss the days. When I would go to sleep in Prague and wake up in Zurich. When cupcakes could heal, gold was kept for … Continue reading 5/24
How To Kill Your Daughter? A feather a night while she sleeps. You pluck her wings with a knife. One by one so she doesn’t feel a twinge. When at last you’ve scrapped her skin raw. You sit her down at the dinner table. And tell her she’s now free to fly. Again she’ll ask her; maaye ni meriye…Chamba kitni durr? You smile … Continue reading 4/24
Sitting in front of an unopened shop in Shazhou market. The cold stairs gives some salve to my buttocks’ spasming muscles. I think of Pluto. Maybe I’m from Pluto. Scraping its foil between my teeth, I savour last of the choco-pies (original) I found earlier. Maybe declaring it a non-planet cut its transmissions to earth? What if they are still looking for me? … Continue reading 3/24
Where is Shyamni? 