In The Absence Of Time
“The sound sizzled as if it was also dust. This sound was the rain, or rather…
Neem Coal Tar
In this column, I will try to explore the possibilities and limitations of the Indian urban reality and question the boundaries of this experience. When we talk about India, its cities, its citizens, its life: What do we understand? What do we assume? I am a twenty-five year old woman living in Delhi and I will write about my life, my impressions and about the daily act of seeing this surrounding reality.
Exquisite Memories of a Corpse
Since then, on the streets of your city, he looks for me: the woman with the…
A Mad Dream On Immortality
It was me who had whispered the question into his ears: Is God a woman? Some…
Rough Notes On Love, Etc.
Only sometimes, in remote parts of the world, one can hear strange voices while tuning the…
Life in Images
It scared me a little and I really did not believe her, and since then I…
Clarice and I
Had I traded sanity for reality? I have struggled all my life to cure this tendency…
Julie’s Heart
I realise, suddenly tonight, that in any part of the planet, it is possible to feel…
A Letter to an Unknown Lover
Don’t sell the blue sapphire you find under the olive tree. Keep it. It’s mine. It’s…
Poetry, because history doesn’t recover enough
We sing ancient songs of grief because we cannot retell nor forget. I was smoking a…
Midnight Rants of a Feverish Mind
What is this world where I suddenly find myself, helpless and in love with nothing but…
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