On Manmarziyan, Amrita Pritam and Amrita Pritam.
Nothing good ever came of salad, even word salad. Caution: a feminist was harmed in the reading of this.
Members of an NGO named Save the Indian Family performed last rites for “marital relations” and feminism. Aum swaha
Usually, RIP trips off the tongue when someone passes away, but I don’t want Sir Vidia to rest in peace.
“Poet, sister: words —
whether we like it or not —
stand in a time of their own.”
It’s 2.19am, it’s pounding with rain and the spirit of Mumbai is AWOL.
I really wanted to like Netflix’s Lust Stories. But no.
Reasons to keep your eyes open and your cameraphone handy.
What can you do with a couple of geometric shapes and a few lines? That's all Ram Kumar needed to turn the world abstract and upside down.
I wrote a novel.
"The satiny material of her burkha shone where it caught the sunlight. It stretched, dipped, billowed and moulded against her body because of the wind. The magnifying glass inched down her form, past the arc of her covered head, along the fluid lines of wind-puffed material. Hadpude didn’t blink. He just looked. His eyes travelled from head to toe, from photo to photo."