Tabula Rasa

In ten years, these roads will be walked by ghosts. Memories will hang from the once green trees and the voices of Aachi and Potte and Ayy...

This was a piece written in August that I just never thought to publish, for some reason. Given that I've revisited it twice in the las...

My mother texted me this morning. 3 rd grade. 4 th grade. Her captions read. Old report cards, she said. And then there was anot...

In a desperate attempt to keep all my writing in one place (ish, kind of), here is something that came out today. I like to think of it as ...

They say memory wilts around the edges with time. March 2011. He wore a khaki blazer and faded blue jeans, the quintessential wardro...

This past weekend, I gifted myself a little getaway, running off to Kochi (blessedly only four hours by train from Coimbatore) for the Koc...

Dear LoverBoy who followed me, When you brushed by me on a busy main road yesterday, I instinctively thought it was an accident. You w...