Seashells

You climb hastily on the wooden staircase of the first building in Kshatriya Niwas, Girgaum, only to find our hero working downstairs, in his garage.  80 year old Praful Bhiwandkar has a collection of 500-600 porcelain figures that he has collected over a span of 5 decades.  His 2BHK flat is home to memories of him collecting these figures in every auction. He says, “Sadhana (Mr. Prafuls late wife) and I love them. It defines our relationship”.  He recalls purchasing the first figure in 1967, after he read Sunday times, Times of India about an auction. And then on began their collection which has now been followed for the second generation. He recalls, the first figure we purchased was the figure of a baby.  My wife and I would always have differences of opinion, after a while we would settle for one. We used to walk around the streets of Bombay, it was so much different from what it is today.  “People would believe that pos...

Mother recalled the time when her 26 year-old self had only one dream. To leave her house, her family and going miles away from the woman who fed her.  Jonah was my grandmother.   Jonah was 72 when she took her last breath. She was a tall and self-made woman. The last few words of Jonah, when on her death bed was how she had started to look, “cheeks sucked in with protruding teeth”. In the two floor magnificent house, built in 1953, she struggled to make ends meet.  The house that was once the tallest in that entire village, today stood erect to hear the agonies of Jonah.  “She was a wise lady”, said some while many fuelled the fall of a woman who stood tall due to her character among the other chickens in the village. Jonah never washed the underwear of the guy she made love to.  Men, the only thing Jonah did not have. Men, the only entity Jonah never desired for. She made love to betel leaves and dug out old love stories of h...

Favourite girl in the frame. The row of green seats, mildly dusty. With minimum ventilation when the doors are shut the Madras museum theatre in Chennai is an old world charm. With purple curtains, and a small makeshift stage, the theatre meets all your expectations. A bright light caught my eye, which I followed and found a trail of yellow light bulbs around. The green room is a decent sized square room that has a lavatory and functional lights. The stage can accommodate a group of 50 people. It's a dome shaped structure on the top, like a globe theatre of the 50s. It reminds me of the IMAX globe theatre that we were taken to when we were in 5th grade, during school. The theatres I never fell in love with, but this one made me wait. Asked to come again. The seats and purple doors of the theatre The stage and my friends. 🌼 ( We were taken to the museum during Preeti Zachariah's module on 10th February 2020 as a part of our class assignment at The Asian...

When my school mate fell in love over Instagram, we took slow showers with the phone watching, rather, a boy watching over the video call. Exposing our dirty dark souls with increased brightness and muted video sessions.  Showers together over the phone is quite a challenging task. Your plumber never knew, such a day would even arise. He never knew you would mount your device on the rustic pipe and flirt effortlessly. The dampness in the bathroom makes it look foggy after a while. You can let your stomach be at rest, or tuck it in and pretend to be hot.  You lean on all the walls, the commode seems friendly, and the shower plays the dirty game.  What happens over the span of an hour and forty five minutes is digital vibrations sent across roads, balconies, cafes and clouds.  You cannot hear him, but he is naked. You cannot talk, but he is naked.  Your body kinda glows, you soap yourself like you care.  You smile, you stare and you...

You do not call her over the phone. She’s like a (pungent) dream. Her life is a box full of fake chocolates. Rather, a rectangular box filled with powdered salt. She behaves like it. Like coarse salt. Her hair listens to the storm. Her nails aspire the witches. She is you, she is worse than you. It’s always a rainy day when E is around. C offee could be the reason multiple times, seldom her. Herself. She remarks at others quite often. E ate the poisoned apple that Adam was supposed to eat. Adam saved himself. Adam played a game, maybe Adam tricked E. Innocent birds forget to chirp when E starts singing! E eats eggs and men for breakfast. She digests lies and lip stains for a living!

Roven : She bakes muffins and  makes scrambled eggs for breakfast. Mariah would wear a violet knee length dress quite often. I remember calling her “love”. She would pat me on my right shoulder and whisper in my ears. Our late-night talks would often end with wine and conversations till 2 in the night. I have always noticed the mole which is right close to her left ear lobe. Mariah : He loves the way I smell and he often reminds me of the smile I have on my face after sexual intercourse. He was unpredictable on the bed. We’ve slept with our arms tangled, hands held, and souls exchanged. He would sit at the verandah in the mornings every day. The time he contemplated and tried to adjust to the life we lead. Our second daughter is autistic. She smiles like a flower. She hit puberty 3 months ago. The habit of Roven sitting at the verandah began since the day our daughter hit puberty. He found it a little difficult to adjust to. This has been on for 3 months now. He would s...

The Koyambedu flower market is a busy place. People in the market do not wait for you to start a conversation with them. The boys turn. They stare and stare until they lose sight of you. Men and women call out to you. Some complain and some narrate stories. Some smile, some ask why I only wear an anklet on one ankle. Why I speak Tamil like Sri Lankans? Why I am not-so-Tamil? The flower market is the most crowded place, followed by the fruit and vegetable market. It’s an extremely Instagram friendly place. The yellow lights lit close to the flowers, the smell of fresh flowers and the bustle asks you to wait. The drama unfolds at every corner. I made three friends at the market today. They offered Chennai is crowded. Chennai is quite different from what I imagined it to be like. The place I come from is Mumbai. Mumbai is not so harsh on your skin. The air in the city does not smell of sewage. The water tastes heavenly.   The bus I used to take to Wilson College was...