An exposition of the Known and an exploration of the Unknown, in the form of poems, essays, borrowed words, fiction and photos
I lost my dreams in between these mattresses we share. The gap is pressed against my spine and I wake up feeling disjointed. Sensory elusion, recession at this gorge-made of bed sheet- marking our sleep, where dead cells accumulate. Vertical blinds open at one slat allow light through without interference to light the room in... Continue Reading →
I am going to start a blog, like a support group, and name it 'My Wife's a Blogger'. Mr. Pink is feeling neglected. I should feel sorry, but then he also (always) says, Aren't you going to put what I just said on 'Mr. Pink's Hammersmith Blows'? No! I am not! And it is... Continue Reading →
A voice I heard across the room for common Convivial cacophonous conversation: A deep boomy wave, rolling rumbling at Home in my inner monologues as though It had belonged to me all along. The vibrations of recognition so Subtle and mysterious that I had To lift my eyes from my text of intellect And turn right... Continue Reading →
January 01, 2015 had just started. Sam [suddenly excited]: Honey, it's been 7 years! We have seen 7 New Years together! What do you think about that? Mr. Pink [still staring intently at the television]: 7 years? It's not even a millisecond in Universe's time. It's one-thirteen of the expected lifespan of a Swiss baby born today. But... Continue Reading →
Air travel doesn't scare me. I am rather used to it. But I always feel a little trepidation while take off and landing. After that I am as comfortable as a cat in a cradle. Mr. Pink is totally fearless. All he worries about when taking a flight is leg-room. Ah! The worries of tall... Continue Reading →
Example 1: Swiss men are hilarious A group of Swiss french-speaking men, from the canton Valais, were on a flight with us; returning from what appeared to have been a drunken boisterous company weekend in the south of Spain. This is what we overheard, Man 1: I had my dog's tail cut off. Man 2:... Continue Reading →
I am addicted to the money sinkholes that are Toiletries. I love buying creams, shampoos, oils, masks and such. Do I need them? I swear to you I do. Mr. Pink, on the other hand, doesn't think so. He thinks I buy these myriad products because I am a victim of 'marketing' and have read... Continue Reading →
Mr. Pink and I make sure we hug often but not so often that people think we are conjoined. One Champions League evening Mr. Pink was less attentive than usual. I corner him in the kitchen and asked him for a 'proper' hug. He gives me a nice warm hug. It's so peaceful and I... Continue Reading →
On a regular Wednesday evening, Mr. Pink is happily lounging on the couch, with the TV turned on to some sports channel, stretched out comfortably, and asking for food to be served to him in the living room. Sam refuses to indulge him. Mr. Pink: Hey! You be a good wife now - serve me... Continue Reading →
Tough life; tougher still Bracing it on my own Cold days; colder chills Even when the sun shone Tending to quotidian chores Matters much for bread Returning to unwelcoming doors Fills me with such dread Dead plastic hums its tune Man's wonders save the night At last to see you, angelic loon, Brings sweet respite... Continue Reading →
Another Voice 