Why do I clean? Does anyone notice, I think, even as I delight in the clean cupboard doors and clean lamps in the living room and feel satisfaction welling up within. Also, if no one notices that something is clean, do they also not notice it when it’s not clean?
Birds in the balcony
He points to one of the water bowls. I hesitate. “No, no, nothing scary,” he says. I peek into the bowl. Inside the empty bowl, caked with moss, lies a small egg.
The Red Sling Bag
A few hours before I have to leave for Iran, I can’t find my passport. A story of extraordinary kindness.
A Tribute to Axe Oil
Most chronic headache sufferers have an arsenal of tools to try for every headache, but there’s always a shining star of a tool that almost always works. That’s Axe Oil for me. I genuinely believe that Axe Oil gives me relief from my headache, even if only for a few minutes.
A letter to you about 2021
Whichever route you took, I’m chuffed to bits that you’re here. Because this unbelievable year is ending, and it’s been months since I wrote anything here. Thank you, dear reader, and wish you a much happier 2022. Next year, I hope to give you more reasons to be on this website.
When we used to buy music
My mind drifted to the whole idea of ‘buying’ music. There was a sense of dedication to that act; you bought a cassette or a CD out of commitment to an artist, a desire to experiment, or after having listened enough to an album or a song you knew that you needed it in your collection.
Filling the Gratitude Jar
April 2020 was perhaps one of the toughest times I’ve lived through. But as COVID-19 sweeps through Delhi, some little things to be grateful for remind me to stay grounded. They distract, offer a momentary escape, tell me of the small things in life that can still be enjoyed.
‘Kopitiam’ and a love for Singlish
I moved out of Singapore ten years ago, but I have fond memories of Singaporean English and I’m happy for any opportunity to hear it.
Yoga thoughts
It’s been a couple of years since I discovered a charming pattern to my train of thought during yoga practice. Twenty minutes into the practice, I’m in a beautiful state of mindlessness and mindfulness. The mind shows me flashes of random memories from years ago, even as it settles with my body into position. I’m at peace, allowing my mind to travel to vague, hazy images from the past.
Vessels of stories
I know vessels carry memories and tell profound stories, but I always associated those with ‘important’ vessels. I’m ever so amused that humble and nondescript vessels like woks and tongs and tadka pans are also candidates.