drunk we made our way up the stairs just like last time only you're not next to me this is another stranger : a man , who will probably never come a breath close to what you we briefly (very briefly) had but the stairs - yeah we walk up this man and I and… Continue reading To Jyo
imagine this : you are walking down a deserted lane with dimly lit shops and the smell of urine as your only companion and you know you're close home so you're less vigilant and you start looking for the keys and you don't look with your eyes but with your rough hands - those poor… Continue reading the ellipsis short of two dots
MS Word doesn't recognize the word 'Precarity' now do you understand how capitalism is colonizing our language don't you , "right-leaning liberals"
there is this feeling that is actually a memory you can taste or smell hear out loud rooted in vision like this time i was on a bus and looked at its floor and the gradient : the pale blue with shards of red and green reminded me of crayons i had as a child… Continue reading your naan bread is my precariat
you know it happens : you hurt and you heal and you hurt again and you hurt a lot it's that cycle with a punctured tube and it weighs down on you and yet you move you move you ride you feel the wind against your face and you smile that's it you survive
(they are white but that's not their only selling point ) I was once travelling with 20 of them in a flight and from what i saw , i would have bought me some lads for whatever the selling price of their dirty mouths were they were loud in ways my mother dreads would be called… Continue reading Want to buy yourself some lads and help let my flowers bloom?
told me - while standing at a bar counter under dim lights and a night cold as it was outside warm was your breath - i get distracted easy you were (are) right i looked at that moth buzzing near our table but my fingers were wanting to turn around and feel your skin against… Continue reading to the boy who
the pounding of my chest knows not the boundaries between love and anxiety sigh sucks to be a - romantic
the sun is out and bright and slightly harsh and there are birds : blue and small white and big red, black and dark grey there’s tea boiling in a kettle far away and there is someone slicing up apples for a cake there are couples falling out of love in the last seats of… Continue reading The tear in my socks
dear Alok vaid menon, my amma is a feminist ; she is brown soft comforting and before I make her sound like a chocolate mousse - i will tell you the one thing she always says to me : 'friends are everything ; one day when you will fall in love and get married, i… Continue reading my amma’s heartbreak from the future