evaporation
the air stole the water i left over the course of days until nothing was left but a ring of russet residue of unfinished business
top of page
Bits and Bobs
Words that come to me as they will.
providence
and in the end, does water not pour forth from the heavens precisely when we are most parched?
masala chai
even a few grains of sugar draws out the latent sweetness from the bitter, bringing to life a symphony of spices grounded by assam, a...
the monsoon of my being
i am the kind of tropical heat that renders the temperate feverish with unrequited longing. tongue numbed by eye of the bird, cheeks...
brown butter
the art of teasing out your deepest, darkest notes, taking you right to the edge of burning before extinguishing the heat, leaving you...
i am still “working” on not feeling guilty for resting
for too long, i’ve been forced to shoulder burdens that weren’t mine to carry and now my body is aching for it. my upper back throbs in...
the kind of romance i crave
skin the colour of scorched earth mind poised as the moon someone who cleanses me like the ocean shows me the beautiful and the sublime...
resilience (ii)
to have been thrown alone down the blackest of holes a thousand times on end to have locked eyes with singular death stretched to the...
learning to savour every flavour
let us not rush through the salt to get to the sweet
the spectacle of free will
and are we not all being swept along the same river, towards the one true destination?
bottom of page