Personal
ദൈവത്തിന്റെ ആയിരം മുഖങ്ങൾ.
ദൈവസങ്കൽപ്പങ്ങളുടെ തുടക്കവുമൊടുക്കവും എവിടെ നിന്നാണ്? മതങ്ങൾ പരസ്പരമുള്ള വ്യത്യാസങ്ങളിൽ തമ്പടിച്ചു, അവിടെ നിന്നെ ലോകത്തെയും മനുഷ്യനെയും നോക്കിക്കാണുന്നു; പക്ഷേ ആ ഒരു വായനക്കപ്പുറം അവർ തമ്മിലുള്ള സമ...
Of what we share and we choose not to share.
When we start talking to someone, we really don’t know what will transpire between us as the time marches forward. This is so straightforward, but we fail to grasp it. It is so simple, what happens...
Where are the songs when we have death all around?
You wake up in your village. You see a hundred half burnt bodies washing up your sacred river. Which song will you sing? If the voice is stuck in your lumpen throat, how will you let the grief esca...
Little Chandrika (1).
Chandrika (Moonlight in Malayalam), was a full fifty years old when she adopted two more children. It wasn’t your routine midlife crisis that pushed her into it. In fact, going by all indicators, f...
Love, confabulated (2).
[Sagar finding love, as written by Fathima] What do I like the most, the dusk or the dawn? Both are eerily similar. It is hard to distinguish the dusk from dawn. Especially after a long afternoon...
Love, confabulated.
Fathima was curious enough. It seemed that she didn’t understand Sagar at all. They have been talking with each other for the past a few days. When Sagar first pinged her, she never expected that t...
Kisses unkempt.
It is a pity that kisses have to disappear. Aren’t they one of the sweetest creations that (wo)mankind can afford? They could be summoned at will and thrown away without much regret. Some of them l...
What is it, even if you win this universe?
This song, written by Sahir Ludhiyanvi and sung by Mohammed Rafi is an ode to a spirit that is alive since the dawn of civilization. It is the enduring conflict between a rebel poet who finds socie...
An Obituary to Prof. Lilavati.
My friend Lilavati, a professor at Hyderabad Central University, passed away last week after a protracted struggle with Alzeimer’s disease. Her life was remarkable and I believe that my words will ...
Love letters I wrote.
Perhaps the greatest dilemma a writer faces is on when a story should be written down. Sure, you may come across a great story every now and then. But you don’t know of when you should put it down ...
Meeting bluebird.
9th May, 2019.
Sagar, Sleep Walking.
Reluctant lovers are the most despicable thing about humanity. It doesn’t matter what they are reluctant about. Whether in indulging with each other or in exploring the more amorous facets of life ...
Writing about myths.
I once wrote about myths - of what their purpose is. Why do we have myths?
Heroin.
This dream could be quite interesting. A straight line from heaven to earth. A ladder perhaps, not made of steel or hardwood. A bamboo ladder with no nails to hold it together. An old, creaky, term...
Another love letter to Tara.
25-05-2019, Trivandrum.
Killing a small sparrow.
Love is like a small sparrow that refuses to die. You can’t starve her. You cannot catch her; you cannot allure her; you cannot mislead her - she’s too smart for your clever tricks. She’s stupid en...
Come, meet me.
What happens to milestones that are dead?
Looking beyond the Black hole.
We are celebrating the release of a breakthrough image. One of the most shared images on internet already, the ‘unseeable’ black hole is a real sensation. But contrary to popular perception, it is ...
Tikes finally makes the hike.
It has been an interesting year. I am not really a bird whose feathers are wound up by an oil spill. But my helplessness is far more insidious. More like a doll which is forced into taking a space ...
The Last Letter - Letters from Sagar to Ananya.
My dearest Ananya,
The empire of love.
A sadhu - a fakir - was found dead under an old banyan tree. I found this note neatly rolled up under his armpits. Here, I publish it for common good.
Review of Lust Stories.
Lust’s passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannises. ~ Marquis de Sade.
Anastasia and her questions.
“This is not condescending dude; I am trying to prattle my way out of your agony”. Anastasia whispered in my ears. Before I could say anything, her soft hands were all over my body. When we can’t t...
Hi there!
My dead blog has to come to life somehow, here it is! I will be updating this one with new content soon.
My old wallet.
I lost my wallet near a mob that was working on a man.
If it's not the genes, what brings success?
We like to believe that genes bring success. It helps us greatly when we are trying to come in terms with the failures in our lives.
The Mellow Ghost.
I met Bhupinder at the Kumbhalgarh fort. He ate on a yellow banana leaf and had the most amazing voice I ever heard. When I asked about the voice, he told me that he inherited it from his great gra...
The most extraordinary tales of love.
In the name of god, I am going to write the most extraordinary tales of love.
Inimical Love.
Once I was told to write a synopsis of life. I didn’t know for whom I was writing it for. It wasn’t meant to be personal. It had to be humane as well as indifferent to the vices and virtues of the ...
LLiness.
A quick story before I go to bed.
Love Now'Sadth.
I am a ghost house filled with empty words. Too many of them trying hard to escape the biological field that mashes them up in a futile attempt to make sense.
She is Euthymia.
A photo posted by Neha Nowshath (@neha_daidaiiro) on Nov 19, 2015 at 9:31am PST
Shibboleth Strings.
The wrinkles in his skin were much more than his finger tips could sense. The body hair once so manly has mostly withered away. Tiny patches of shiny skin layered around the bends as a poorly knit ...
Happy New Year!
Okay, let’s think it this way.
The Tinder Ghost.
Tinder is cruel. But so is life. Each one of us trying to paint it in the most beautiful of colors. To dab it with the most exquisite filters one can imagine. To extricate our lives of the material...
When I typed at night.
==This article is not suitable for the faintest of the hearts because it is not optimised for Homo Sapiens readability. Thank You.==
Is it okay to love someone knowing you can't be with them?
Read Hashin Jithu's answer to Is it okay to love someone knowing you can't be with them? on Quora
High
High High High
The night before the journey.
We all are going to die. That means that we are alive at this moment. To know its true meaning, we should meet people. People about whom we know nothing, and would never know anything until you tra...
Mysticism and heroin
[You can read this article even if you are not a Malayali. Just make sure that you listen to the song.]
അലങ്കാരികം, ദുർവിനിയോഗം!
മണപ്പുറത്ത് കിടന്നു മുകളിലോട്ട് നോക്കുമ്പോൾ നക്ഷത്രങ്ങൾ തിളങ്ങുന്ന കാൻവാസിന് ചെറിയ മഞ്ഞ കലർന്ന കറുപ്പാണെന്ന് ദിലീപന് തോന്നി. മെല്ലെ തല ചെരിച്ചു നോക്കിയപ്പോൾ ദീപ്തി തന്നെ തന്നെ നോക്കി കിടപ്പാണ്. എ...
സൃഷ്ടി
സൃഷ്ടിക്കു വേണ്ടുന്ന ഊർജ്ജം അപാരമാണ്. കഥയാകട്ടെ, കവിതയാകട്ടെ, ചിത്രമാകട്ടെ, ഒരു മനുഷ്യനാകട്ടെ, അത് സൃഷ്ടിക്കുന്നവൻ സ്വയം ഉരുകി ഒലിക്കുന്നത് എന്തേ നിന്റെ കണ്ണുകൾ കാണുന്നില്ല?
The touch of Parvati
I need to write about love. Not about sex or lust. I am adamant about sticking to Indian mythology tonight. The sweet rains of summer has graced us and the cold breeze simply refuses to retreat.
When psychedelia plucks the chord.
I think that the main reason behind psychedelic music and art touching our hearts is our own inability to understand our minds.
The Duke's Mixture.
It is not everyday that you stumble upon an obscure idiom and start wondering about its connotations. It happens once in while for me with two most possible outcomes - me falling head over heels to...
The Joy of writing!
I just finished setting up my first ghost blog. Thanks to a lot of wonderful people on Internet, I was able to get my blog running on the Openshift Red hat server with a beautiful responsive theme.
Welcome to my Blog!
Thank you for visiting. I am now switching to Ghost, the blogging platform. You can access my articles now at My old blog.