Places

Bombay / Mumbai , India

Bombay / Mumbai , India

« I prefer to use the older name, ‘Bombay,' as it symbolizes the inclusive and cosmopolitan character of my city. »  —Ranjit Hoskote

Your imperfections play up my perfectness. It is a superb
feeling. Short-lived? How long does hooch last?

Everyone I love faces the might offorce majeure.
Do I harken them due to my heart?

If...

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The three boys jumped over the boarding school wall in the suede of night. They had scored 3 out of 20 marks and were horse-whipped 17 times. The teacher promised a similar punishment the next day too.

The...

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After the drill of social punctilios, when curtains are drawn, the blah
blah of bovarism lies peeled in hearts willing to eavesdrop on themselves.
Therapy of truth unveils its secrets: we know our...

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‘Your mother-in-law is responsible for your husband’s sperm velocity. It’s got to do with genetics,’ the doctor says.

‘I thought the sperm had no choice,’ she inquires, ‘isn’t the egg mighty and the sperm one...

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Alpenglow on your cheeks constellate me


to our cosmos, quickening in this heliolater


of calentures that never convalesced. Lost


in its energy, I continue bird-dogging protocols


for...

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Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace, into wallpapers dotted with flowers, into ceilings pierced with mirror baubles,...
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Memory is...images of a prepubescent boy cycling home, Parag milk packets in one of his arms,
feeding biscuits to a stray gaggle of brown dogs, wagging their shins.

Large half-moon eyes, kind salivating...

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To be born into the hubbub of an Indian city, is to be born into a world of multiple cultures and at least two other languages. We boast a staggering number of gods and goddesses and hundreds of...

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I sit here, listening to an orchestra.

They are playing the Banjos of ingenuity,

and far from where I am, is a symposium

of wise men, sitting on the struggle
of the common American –...

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This is the city of dreams,

not for their fulfillment,

but for those that it consumed

and passed down as heirloom;

you can see these on the streets at half past seven,

bare fists...

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He was first a snake and was in love with her - a she-snake. And then he molted and after he molted he was a turtle and he met another she-turtle and fell in love with her. When he de- shelled after years, he became a...
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The classical is a name we give to the hybridity we have forgotten. Its seemingly unassailable guarantees of a pure identity, homogenous culture and continuity with an idyllic past conceal the turbulences that...

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