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the line of beauty*

  *In which watching birds focuses our gaze on surprising beauty, and has us contemplate the kohl-lined gaze   ‘In the right light, everyone is a beauty.’ I learnt this truth of Warhol in the golden light of dawn that painted the carpet of wild grass on the mountain slope into a van Gogh relief, … Continue reading

doggerel

( *an expose of Twofeet plagiarism) Not so long ago and not too far away, Zara and I attempted a heist. The Packmaster was asleep with her head under the chair, her slippers, book and bottles carelessly cast aside. So we crept up to sniff at the chocolate wrapper that she had paired with the book … Continue reading

tears in rain

It is a period of civil war in the galaxy. A brave alliance of Resistance Packmaster-fighters has challenged the tyranny of lathi-charching ticky-tacky Twofeet who’ve started a pogrom to wipe out dogs. In my four unsettling winters in this forsaken corner of the galaxy in which Packmaster’s set down her chairs, this has been my … Continue reading

Pooh-pooh!

“I am not scared of mice, mashi,” declared the 4-year-old niece by way of greeting when we met recently. But I am. So I jumped. ‘Where did you see them?’ I asked, not quite shrieking but still shrill enough to drown the squawking parrots feeding on the anar tree in the garden. “No silly mashi, … Continue reading

mixed metaphors

Started out tame, it did, the first episode with winter come. But the scheming and uncertain alliances portend the drawn-quartered/hung/split/spilled guts to come. In anticipation of the blood and gore, pulling out scenes carved into the doors of churches and palaces and from paintings in airy museums, which brought on instant flashes of Game of … Continue reading