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The Greatest Sorrows

Category: Poetry, Posted on June 10, 2017

The greatest sorrows

always peek into the greatest truths.

A wisp, a sliver, a keyhole glimpse.

Like June air thick with rain spraying,

tempting with the promise of drenching.

[Continue reading…]


Freedom’s Child

Category: Poetry, Posted on June 4, 2017

Beyond the hills that stretch afar
where nameless  magic stills the hour,
she sings a lilting happy strain.
Distant sometimes, sometimes so near.
Yet who could sketch her visage dear
but unite in her sweet refrain?
[Continue reading…]


Sweetheart

Category: Poetry, Posted on May 25, 2017

Sweet, how shall I of my soul keep abreast?
Awakened by your thrill, it weaves and wends
across the room to where you stand, and lest
memory lift and notions falter, rends
itself from me and dissolves in yours just
like shadows that meld when the dusk descends.
Emotions feed on life till they crest
and all but crash on surfeit’s dicey ends.
[Continue reading…]


Ink is black

Category: Poetry, Posted on May 14, 2017

I struggle to hold myself back sometimes;

to restrain my mind from flooding the paper.

If I write a lot, I’m afraid my poetry would run dry.

What then would comfort me in my retirement years?

I must not spend my words so- like heedless youth spent.

[Continue reading…]


How real is reality – Part 2 of 2

Category: Discourse, Posted on May 11, 2017

So what exactly is the infamous double-slit experiment of quantum mechanics and how does it defy reality? To understand this, let us first recall the behavior of particles and waves when they pass through a slit. Consider that you are bombarding a wall with marbles through a barrier containing a single slit. Some of the marbles would bounce off the barrier and some would pass through the barrier and hit the wall. If you mark the spots where the marbles hit the wall, it will roughly take the shape of the rectangular slit. Now suppose that instead of the marbles you project a monochromatic light at the slit; then you will get an illuminated rectangle on the wall. [Continue reading…]


Fran Jane Manor

Category: Poetry, Posted on May 8, 2017

It was hardly a manor to look at, except if you counted its years and reckoned

its rickety frames burdened by creaking eaves; permanent refuge for termites and despair.

Its proud verandah of white-washed fretwork lied of green and blue beneath its chipping film.

An Areca palm battled with life in one corner, its clay pot dark and swollen with too much water;

and the other corner had a doddering woman hunched-over on a stool.

[Continue reading…]


How real is reality? – Part 1 of 2

Category: Discourse, Posted on May 4, 2017

It isn’t. I know two words cannot make you disbelieve reality and chances are, you’re probably scoffing at the moment. But let me tell you why reality is not as real as you think it is. Magicians and illusionists trick the senses to create a sort of ‘cardboard reality’, while the real magic is actually going on in the heads, the eyes and the ears of the spectators. Movies are primarily, a large number of still images projected at a rapid rate to produce the illusion of movement. But what we actually see are characters moving and dancing and talking on the screen for we cannot distinguish between the separate images. Governments are actually a group of people passing laws in fancy buildings. What you call money is a piece of printed paper. They are what they are because we collectively assign a power or an extended reality to it. [Continue reading…]


Weather-proofing and cutting the small-talk

Category: Discourse, Posted on April 30, 2017

You need three steaming shots of coffee to get you through an ordinary office day, unless you pour the first two straight on your head. There is no other way to survive the small-talk that boils and spills over around the coffee-machine and into your work. And no matter what kind of organization you work in, every morning mandatorily begins with the weather and in some cases, continues and ends with it too. If you are particularly lucky, your colleague may also tell you whether it rained in Pune yesterday, because phone conversations haven’t been spared either. Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski euphemistically called this phenomenon of small talk, ‘phatic communication’. [Continue reading…]


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