The Dream

2B West road, West CIT Nagar, T Nagar, Madras – 35. This is a famous address especially in the erstwhile Madras. Some knew it as a house which housed about 3 families permanently and a number of families that lived in depending on the time of the year. The house always smelled of filter coffee. There was a large gate at the entrance of the house. There was a badly mowed lawn with a tiny clearing that led to the front door of the house. There was a huge mango tree at the side of the house. In the shade of that tree, resting on the wall of the house, you would always find a black Hero cycle. The front door of the house was almost always open. It provided great ventilation against the sultry heat of Madras. We didn’t have air conditioning back in the day. The open doors signified something else. It was a welcome to all the people who wanted to come in. What’s more was that we would almost always have guests who were sitting in the front room. When there were guests it meant one thing,...

I look hard and then swipe Seconds to decide that I like The person in the picture in myriad hues That’s all I have by way of clues I can go left or I can go right Second guessing which way she might If she ever got to my colorful picture And decide maybe I am worth her It isn’t words because I only get a paragraph I cant put a song I can choreograph Or tell that I am cool but essentially love deprived Instead say I am intellectually derived We want to come out But in coming out we are caught We want to look incandescently desirable In the attempt end up avoidable The backlight of the mobile phone goes dark Snaps me back to life stark Notice the person sitting across and smile “I haven’t seen you in a while”

He was sitting strangely. Don’t even know if we could call that sitting. He was at his work station. His feet had crept under the desk as far as they could go. His head rested on the top of the chair. His torso made a 45 degree angle and his legs formed an extension to his torso making him almost vertical but slanted. His eyes were shut. If one saw closely there was slight moisture around the eyes. His body was still and he lay there motionless. James sat at a desk which pretty much overlooked the entire floor. The vision was pretty panoramic. His workstation was right opposite James’. The messenger on James’ laptop was buzzing away. Line after line appeared on it and James looked at them intently. He typed “Sure”. “I will catch up on a call with you next week. Thanks”. He seemed pretty satisfied with the reply he got and looked up from his laptop for the first time in 45 minutes. He saw the still and motionless colleague on the opposite desk. It was unusual. He had never seen hi...

Clocks! That’s the first song of Coldplay I had heard. The sheer difference of the song sort of struck me and stayed with me. From that day to this day I’ve been a big fan of Coldplay. Their music is magic. Their older albums is so much better than the newer ones. One of my favorites is still this non-popular song called “Message”. That’s the first song in the “Coldplay” folder in my car. Every time that song plays time sort of stops. Move forward to 7 th April 2017. The day will be etched in memory for a long time now. We had made the trip to Bangkok only to see Coldplay. With immense difficulty where we had to navigate wrong directions given, not knowing which National stadium to get to, taking a cab that couldn’t go past the traffic to the stadium and finally a motorcycle guy that took two of us in his bike zig-zagging between car lanes with our hearts in our mouths. Coming from India the last part is nothing new to us. But seeing it here in Bangkok sent a new kind of chill...

Modi’s 50 days will come to an end in 2 days. Will I be able to walk into an ATM and get money whenever I want? Will I be able to withdraw more than the rationed INR 2000? All those small traders in the unorganized sector whose work largely depends on cash exchanges will now be able to go back to making their usual daily money? The answer is simply, no. I don’t need Urjit Patel to come on live television to tell this but it is just common sense. The 2000 rupee notes are practically useless as there isn’t much change doing the rounds. The new 500 rupee note is collector’s edition. We have run out of 100 rupee notes. And frankly, if you chanced upon 100 rupee notes then you are going to hoard it considering the bleak future. Hence their circulation is very limited. Any other kind of withdrawals is such a herculean effort that unless your life depends on it, you arent going to venture out and get it. Like the vast majority in the country, I was hopeful that this was a gigantic move....

Not much has been going in India apart from demonetization recently. Suddenly people are intrinsically rich but actually poor. The amount of money in circulation has gone down significantly and the bank coffers have gone up by INR 5.5 lakh crores. This was primarily touted as an attack on black money but now it has slowly started disrupting everyday lives of people. http://www.livemint.com/Opinion/RNdxOHenVluYuLx4iCw4JO/Modis-new-strike-against-black-money-backfires.html  This gives an idea of the people affected the worst. They have produce which is not durable and they don’t have people to sell their produce to. People do not have money in hand to buy vegetables and one cannot swipe at a local market. The salaried class who are primarily reliant organized trade for their daily consumption are facing the least disruption. The majority are reeling under cashlessness. Some of the most affected people are 1.        Vegetable vendors in local mark...

Dark clouds bring down torrential rain You hear the woman scream in dying pain Her son sits at the doorstep with another paper boat He stifles his weeping and lets it float The boy sees a blue car getting drenched The man in it has his fists clenched He starts his car and lets it roar and speeds it down the wet floor The woman in white barely notices the blue car She has a bag of trinkets and a silver star The car comes speeding, splashing water by The woman falls, the bag snaps, and the contents fly Now the rain has run its course The roads have turned into rivers coarse A floating silver star finds a paper boat A woman is saved in this rain of note