Signs – Part 1

I felt a pressure on my waist for a fraction of a second – just four fingers pressing gently against my blouse. It is a sensitive spot. I quickly turned around with a tiny shriek, to find no one there. My 22-month-old was at my feet, playing with plastic cups and steel tumblers; my husband,... Continue Reading →

It took a while… I am back, with the world

Dear Void, It has been 5 years, 9 months, and 6 days. It has taken 2 quick births and 1 long death. I peeked into you, at random moments over this period. I found comfort in your quiet existence. I visited old friends who heard your echoes. I read their replies over and over again.... Continue Reading →

Respectful & Necessary: India’s Daughter

I am posting this on March 9, 2015. A regular Monday. Rape is not just an International Women's Day issue. It is an everyday-of-the-year issue. Death and Birth of Nirbhaya On the night of December 16 2012 a 23-year-old woman, a medical student, was gang raped by 6 men in a moving bus in Delhi.... Continue Reading →

On rewriting inspiration

 When you ask me to revise a poem you ask me to meet again the Muse who seldom responds to invitation. She comes in suddenly through the door left open, announcing Her presence with words that have never sat together before. She says what She has to say and goes quiet; goes away or gets broken down into elements... Continue Reading →

It is OUR loss

Voiceless art speaks volumes about a culture of courage. When made silent the message screams ferocious fear.   This is a shadorma which I wrote after reading the following quote, In this latest video, an unidentified man says Islam calls for the destruction of all idols. The museum worker was dismissive of this piety, saying the... Continue Reading →

What is an “I” in poetry?

Situated usually at the start to grab notice, Undulating with the tone, a poem's voice Breaks in first, second or third but Just so you know it is a mere toy, a ploy Enacted to lull you into feeling. It Can, based on timing, be real in Telling what the poet's being is dealing with.... Continue Reading →

Meeting strangers on the Swiss rails

Here's my confession: I have travelled about 10 times around the earth on Swiss rails. Approximately 400,000 km. I have spent more time on these trains than I have with my friends and family. I can't go into the Whys and the Hows. It wasn't an easy life but it surely was an interesting ride.... Continue Reading →

When I see my portrait

Laura Zimmermann is a talented Parisian artist who I know because of good fortune: One of my husband's best friend had the good sense to date her or we would have never known this outwardly shy but inwardly bold and resolute young woman. She also has the distinction of being the only vegetarian French person... Continue Reading →

The Do that I Do that I Do so, well?

My café au lait which is too foamy for its own good sits hissing by the side while I silently waste my time on Twitter to find out what's more important than Djokovic winning the Australian Open. People are sharing their blogs, inspirational quotes and there are other bits and bobs on there which on... Continue Reading →

Reading to write again

From a very young age, I suspected there was more to my world than I could see: somewhere in the streets of Istanbul, in a house resembling ours, there lived another Orhan so much like me that he could pass for my twin, even my double. I suspect that there is another Sam too. I... Continue Reading →

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