sun rays bounce off her watch or mine unclasped in a hurry now domiciled on a table by the bedside few bookmarks unfinished work an ash tray the fire long quenched smoke sprawled on the pillow somewhere dust rises up to the ceiling the shadows complete their dance in silence

raindrops streaking down my window myriad patterns formed grey the order of the day across the road beyond the metro a hill three quarters filled houses, a storey or two many stories propped on stilts a school a temple a church a mosque all accommodated a jigsaw puzzle can’t see…

they look down from the billboard, shining metro in tow, promising a better future, asking us to sacrifice, our already pothole ridden present. some years back, the same beaming faces with pride, assured a smoother ride, a brighter future they cried. that future, now our present, the ink on our fingers, washed away and forgotten, our hopes dashed, now in sweet surrender, our votes lie submerged, in the crater at Milind Nagar.

The year was 1985. The day before Ganapati festival, i was at my aunt’s place @22 Rajmahal . Settled down to a holiday from school. Ganapati meant going to Girgaum to a relative’s, super Goan vegetarian food, a round of Chowpatty and back home. That year was different. On Ganapati…

two neighbours separated by a street one witnessed the retreat of his master defeated vanquished by a weapon unknown to him the other did not gloat i guess a cup of tea was sent across the street with a note in the cosy “you are not to blame for what transpired you can stay we…

Recent discussions on Twitter Space regarding the spirit of Mumbai prompt me to note my own thoughts on the subject, not necessarily in any order of importance and with some sports analogies; most of them cricket ones. So what do i believe we have going for us, here in Mumbai …

for some long walks shared umbrella roasted bhutta chai with sutta crashing waves at worli sea face photos of the sea link engulfed by dark angry clouds for some milan subway no longer in the news ever since they plonked a flyover across it news channels have newer haunts now a bloke will stand in knee deep water chasing TRPs…

hit the freeway in a flash passed Chembur then at Wadala or Sewree or Parel hard to tell now the skyscrapers loomed like bouncers outside a tony club breakfast at the usual place with my friend a familiar face post Eggs Kejriwal came a dish preceded by “Dunkin” commonly refered as “Saambaar me dubake” in both…

Ganesh Chaturthi always brings about memories of people — like this cook who would sing one song after the final Aarti on day 2. The song…

I remember watching the movie “Gandhi” at Oscar cinema in Andheri West. It was part of the very famous Amber-Oscar-Minor trinity — now…

There is something magical about experiencing your city come alive. And no better way to experience it than walking. Walked to my maushi’s…

still dark when I started workers up early affixing “his” mug on barricades something to do with G20 then for the first time in my city I…

the central side of my city a little less happening equally dug up though this time around it was a truck which pulled up alongside pointed out the right direction he must have reached by now widened streets the extra lane occupied by tempos,cranes ricks, taxis waiting to make this city what it has turned into only…

sun rays filter across my desk bounced off glass windows from the buildings nearby in Mumbai one has to go the extra mile to meet friends and say hello

the day ended senses regained the silent DJ gathered his quiet speakers tent & water sprinklers unfastened lie forlorn on the ground cleaning army moves in washing off colors stubbornly clinging to the paver blocks it’s a lost battle the pressure from water jets is too much down the drain…

Celebrations of any kind in a typical Mumbai housing complex begin at 09:00 usually. The first song that blares out signifies the day/festival being celebrated. “Rang Barse” from Silsila was the song that kicked off proceedings for many years until it gt displaced by “Holi khele Raghuveer”, then came “Balam…

A mother sat on the floor, her teenage daughter’s head on her lap; the kid was exhausted and it was the mother getting treated. A couple sat on the floor and shared a meal. A grown man broke down talking to someone on the phone, while his attendant desperately tried…

a sliver of a drizzle clouds banished by strong winds leaves, branches dislocated from the few trees that remain mixed up with gulmohars on the tar, cement, paver block, road just the monsoon teasing us, in mumbai just it’s annual foreplay

a sliver of a drizzle clouds banished by strong winds leaves branches dislocated from the few trees that remain mixed up with gulmohars on the tar, cement, paver block, road just the monsoon teasing us in mumbai just it’s annual foreplay

rains inevitably trigger songs on playlists masters from long ago sing about unrequited love and alcohol about things as they used to be and how they are now of opportunities missed life passing us by paper boats and 116 moon lit nights