Brutus in Plymouth Before the Ides of March
The door opens. Enter—the Hour. The Hour is my story’s main character. —Hélène Cixous, “What…
2016
Out of the Closet, Into the Spotlight
Events around the world increasingly expose the construction of the “other” and the politics of exclusion,…
Clarice and I
I have struggled all my life to cure this tendency to daydream, lest it should carry…
न्याय
न्याय न्याय का क्या मज़हब है? न्याय की क्या ज़ात है? क्या सोचे कोई फिर…
Dekhna Hain, Dekhte Hain
dekhna hain, dekhte hain: a ghazal the season to play with colours is always just…
NRI vs NRI
I really wanted to write a contrarian column this month, upending the critical consensus on the…
A Spoonful of Lunacy
A figure—a luminous figure that was—moved through a swirling haze of blue steam, ambling on in…
60 Watts
A small big-city window lights up at an ungodly hour. Part-drunk, part-bronchitic Mohan turns on a…
Sarojini and the Sambrani
They say it looks like glass, shining, translucent. Even cuts like glass, or so said…
Rajkumar
Once upon a time there was a rajkumar. Rajkumar? You mean a prince? Not a king…