Where have all the flowers gone?

I used to think that life stopped when someone dropped out of your life. I started realising that the space soon becomes filled with a myriad of other things; many of them more fruitful and fulfilling than what was there Read More …

 

The Sphere of Cognition

There is a thin line between love and hate, and it is called perception. If our cognitive spheres intersect and we inhabit the same mental space, we can communicate, but when one of us leaves that sphere, we cease to Read More …

 

Constructed realities

The train stopped in Termini, Roma. Through the window, I could see many passengers gathering closer to the end of the platform, eagerly waiting for the train to stop. It is Friday and everyone was travelling out of the city to the coastal areas; Read More …

 

Do you see me?

I am real only to the extent that I maintain the reality of their constructions of reality; I will be acknowledged only when I conform to the scripted conversations, interactions and paradigms, when I move beyond or outside of those Read More …

 

Ave Maria

There is certain stillness in the air, the moon attends, beaming brightly through obscurity. Mary gasps, taking deep breaths as she struggles to remain a viable part of a cold and cruel world. A world in which she gave everything, Read More …

 

Capitalism or parasitism?

Children of the street En route to my private dance class one early afternoon in the middle of the work week, I observed three girls, the oldest being perhaps 12 years and the youngest, having the benefit of 2 years. Read More …

 

Deference reflects the same hue on any landscape

I have always been fascinated by the interplay of power in gender politics. What is more fascinating however is the various ways that these normalised images of disparity manifest in societies in ways that are so benign that they are Read More …

 

Intangible dreams

Many of us spend a lifetime dreaming. And that is all we do – dream! Then we die, and what is left? Nothing. Not even a memory, for memories are only alive in our own bosoms; and when we die, Read More …