There is something about writing, writing a lot actually. It tends to take over your life. You no longer just experience things, you start imagining how to capture them in the confines of a sentence, a word. A letter. You’re not yourself anymore. You’re her, him, them. You start doing […]
Witty, romantic, passionate, beautiful and sad. Becoming Jane has risen quickly to one of my favourite films (perhaps along with Memoirs of a Geisha). Watch Becoming Jane and try to understand everything they say – the attempt is well rewarded. The cinematography is beautiful. It’s not just the composition of […]
White is my favourite colour. (image source: http://intangibleee.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=201….ults=5)
The heart is an incredible thing. Whether the actual organ or its metaphorical counterpart. Summaya’s heart was bleeding, it was being squashed by two hands until it could not breathe, until it was a heaving pulp of bloody muscle, until it felt like her chest would explode and splatter the […]
14 April 2008. Dal Lake. There is a rustic beauty here. A exquisitely dilapidated Venice of sorts. Little floating houses. ‘Quaint’, ‘rustic’ are words that come to mind. Acient and sad too. Like a beautiful, old woman. Like a beautiful old woman bemoaning the rags she has to wear over […]
Last night I saw something, strange,very strange to see it from that perspective I, no longer on the other sidehow many hours passed like that? How is that forgotten? Strange, and so very heartbreaking
I have a memory of me walking up Salvia Road in a green scratchy jersey with a brown box bag and a short haircut that sat on my ears. It was early morning and it was cold and no matter how high I pulled up those white socks with patterned […]
