Seasons of the mind

What's wrong with me now? -imagining autumn leaves  in peak of summer…. Is it a mindset? Is it an inclination? What is it inside me that struggles to find expression? What is it that creates discomfort? I’ve struggled all my life. I want it to end now. those unseen places all that is anathema comes …

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Magnifiers

Videographers are all over the office, asking people to smile and flash V signs. Some smiles are pretty strained, as they look up from the desk, interrupting a time-bound assignment. New projects bring people, and old faces might not be there to cheer in the next round. The team moves to the CEOs secretary, and …

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Stories in quarantine

Is the “new normal” really new?  The ideas and lifestyles have all existed before, maybe for a minority.  Conservative Indians are screaming from the rooftops, that leaving footwear outside, washing before eating and following certain rules in the kitchen have been a part of our culture for long, but we had given it up for …

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Sunset

Social media posts spoke about senior lives being silenced in corona-infested hospitals, as the medical infrastructure was inadequate to manage the load. It is the base thought behind the piece ... What were their last thoughts, when a needle pierced into their consciousness, transporting them to another level? They were old, and the system could …

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Carefully structured

The organization structure is carefully built. There are special slots for the favoured ones, deliberate spaces between some so that the connections are not too obvious. They need to control it from all sides – ensuring that followers stay on a predetermined path, managing dissent, building intelligence networks to know what’s happening on the ground. …

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Particles of Infinity

Home is bliss, and will always be. But the starkness outside seems to destabilize mind-sets. The air I breathe for sustenance, water I consume, vegetation and meat I need for survival, all comes from out there. The house was furnished with great care to make it a comfy, soul-satisfying refuge, but the soul now wants …

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Taj Mahal

I see engraved patterns of unusual creativity and exquisite craftsmanship. White-labelling came into existence, when identities were lost in smooth paleness of marble. Taj Mahal is but a sculpted grave, with souls of unknown artists scattered in the invisible graveyard. I don’t see pine trees and the water canal, but hear muffled sounds of creators. …

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Bridge to Nowhere #writephoto

The sand moving under my bare feet makes me feel unstable. I wonder if stories about the end of the world coming soon are true. What will it feel like? sand slips by fading consciousness asks for peace   Will you be able to build bridges that last? The glow attracts, but does not feel …

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