the man with five daughters

November 8, 2010


On a cab home, my taxi-driver who is triggered by a sudden memory, swings around and blurts- you know Miss? No, sir I don’t. With precise oratorical skills, he narrated the events spanning three decades back, without break or pause to ponder, no the memory came out in staccato-fashion, like a band major not missing […]

Posted in: conversations

under the rock where the sun dont shine

October 27, 2010


Really. I feel like I am going to get run over by an oncoming truck, or as a girl whom I once heard say, ‘the fridge is going to dance on me.’ I feel like a block of lead, my weary heartbreak resounding, my looming fears with a thousand hooks. There is so much of […]

Posted in: daily grind, heartaches

the calabash with rose bandung

September 15, 2010


I told a pigeon oceans away, i told a traveling swan. I warned a hummingbird some time back, that very day I confessed to an understanding penguin. I was advised by and wrote a contented budgie, and messaged a wise otter. I synthesized and agonized with my house cat. In earlier episodes, I sought refuge […]

Posted in: heartaches


September 8, 2010


Preface I guess you can say I’ve always really wanted to write. But there was no story most of the time. Until now. The cost of  the lack of imagination, is a life lived- i think. Chapter 1: A list you want to avoid 1. i think i am going to suffer from heartache soon. […]

Posted in: daily grind

2am in the night- an obligatory post.

September 4, 2010


how the obligatory post came about. I am brimful with emotions, but they are in check. My heart has been weary, but it is still beating. If you have been reading me for a while, and you enjoy psycho-analysis, you will smirk when I start to type ‘obligatory post’. You will understand that this is […]

Posted in: musings, written word

a mynah lives for…

May 26, 2010


This is a tale of privilege. Of us outliving the mynah. It starts with sighting a mynah on my way out this morning. Hop. Hop. ‘Ah, mynahs, you’re beginning yet another day in your short life. ‘With so much gutso. So much.. hop.’ Two beautiful golden retrievers wagged past me- they smell of sweat and […]

the freedom to love

May 14, 2010


some three years ago, a graceful older woman sat in odd hours at an empty coach terminal, the second seat on a row of plastic orange. this woman was not waiting for a coach, nor did she intend to be seated in that terminal that afternoon, but circumstances led to this undeniable fact. the coaches […]

Posted in: written word