Browsing All Posts published on »July, 2007«

Thirty

July 21, 2007

3

It pours in sheets. The neighbour children are squealing. It pours in sheets that obscure their little dance, when they steal drops forbidden, for fear of illness, and consequently missing a day at school, a test, a rank, an academic title, a career, a salary, marriage, fulfilment. The windows busy themselves – their banging business. […]

Twenty Nine

July 19, 2007

1

I watched him walk from the cigarette shop, talking on the phone – to someone close, I imagine. His gait wasn’t particularly hurried. He’d respectfully kept his cigarette unlit. I was telling somebody close about the daal-fry I’d had for lunch. I waved at him.He smiled, waved back. I have no clue who he was.

Twenty Eight

July 16, 2007

1

There are French windows at work, overlooking a very busy road. Day in-day out, people commute along our lines of sight, rarely straying into our visions.During torrential downpours, they huddle at the unofficial smokers’ lounge. Today, a morgue van passed. And then,there are French windows along a very busy road, overlooking an office.

Twenty Seven

July 7, 2007

11

Lately, I’ve been wondering about what writing means to me. And why I instinctively avoid writing in first person. As much as it is an honesty issue, I figure it has much to do with dealing with me. Every time I run from writing, I run from me. I don’t like saying statements that would […]