Shoes

They were small shoes Size three, at the most. Scraped with mud tearing at the corners soles weathered from hours in the unforgiving sun from the dust of the assembly ground dirty white, buckled shoes bathed in blood.

All art is useless

In 1890, a fan wrote to Oscar Wilde asking him to explain a sentence in the preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray : “All art is quite useless”. How could a writer say something so callous? Did it not put to question his own existence? Wilde’s reply was both relevatory and magnificent in its brevity. “A work of…

We Talked to Our Kids About Souls

Originally posted on Butterfly Mind:
Swinging Bridge at Babcock State Park, West Virginia “Hey Mom, are trees living things or living beings?” Our nine year old son looked into the forest then up at me as we hiked side by side along a gurgling brook. His dad and sister walked a few steps ahead of…

Nobody’s cats

stray cats they answer to no one they eat what they get they sleep where they can. stray cats are nobody’s cats. they come in all colours tawny, pepper, mottled, grey their eyes like glass marbles that pierce through the dark they turn up whimpering when there’s fish on the stove they set up their…

A smile to remember

we had goldfish and they circled around and around in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes covering the picture window and my mother, always smiling, wanting us all to be happy, told me, ‘be happy Henry!’ and she was right: it’s better to be happy if you can but my father continued…

A wild horse in the sun

Ride A Wild Horse Ride a wild horse with purple wings Striped yellow and black except his head which must be red. Ride a wild horse against the sky – hold tight to his wings before you die whatever else you leave undone once ride a wild horse into the sun. Hannah Kahn (1911-1988) I…

The Booksellers of Bangalore – 2

Back again with more haunts for those of you who get high on the scent of books: 1. Goobe’s Book Republic: A short walk down from K.C. Das Sweets on Church Street, you can spot an intriguing sign on the pavement: Haha. Cracks me up everytime. Goobe’s is cool: a funky little store in the basement, with quotes on…

~ I don’t fear that I may cease ~

Originally posted on My Silent Muse:
I don’t fear that I may cease, To be. I fear when I no longer am, She may forget to forget me, Searching for a face, In my broken mirrors, And then slashing her lines, In these scattered glass fragments, Of my old photograph. I fear they may print…

The forgotten gift

You have a gift. Use it well.

​Many years ago, when you were young and green and the world was your oyster, someone said those words to you.

Random musings on a Monday morning

So here I am, lazing in bed, writing nonsense because I have 200 things on my to-do-list and don’t know where to start. Some random observations at this moment: 1. I’ve just realised I’m not a very nice person. Now if you knew me in person you might disagree, but believe me, it’s all an act….

Kashmir floods: reporting without bias

I work for a national daily. It’s a hard thing to admit to when you’re in the midst of something as sudden and shocking as a natural calamity, because there is a truth few reporters will say aloud: journalists thrive on tragedies. But when the tragedy becomes personal, when for days there is no news…

A little whimsy

I sat there, forcing myself into that uncomfortable space.  Putting my phone away, feeling that “incredible loneliness”, as Louis put it. Listening, really listening, to my despair. That Crillon cake was perfect. And the tea too. It’s good to be able to feel it; that aloneness. You can almost hear them, those unhappy thoughts, wailing as…