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Continue reading →: Simple Word Love
Words, like birds, have wings. Pin them down and they die. I can remember the precise moment when I realized this.
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Continue reading →: Them in the City
Something or the other is always happening in Calcutta. Many of these events would be quite outside the scope of my experiences in the US and yet here they seem to fit in so seamlessly with the daily course of things. The events I’m talking about could be as simple as an…
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Continue reading →: Home on the InterwebAt the end of play or at the end of work, when the sun is rising in the wee hours of the day or when the sun is going down, when you pull the curtains on prying eyes at last or when you display your exploits in their splendour on…
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Continue reading →: The Calcutta Cricket
One of the new experiences you have to adjust to when you visit your home in Calcutta from your home in New Jersey, travel from the temperate zone to the tropics, is that of living with the constant presence of insects in the summer. Even in city apartments, these companions make…
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Continue reading →: The Old and the YoungFor expatriates, visiting home after long periods of time reveals slow changes imperceptible to those who live close by. The changes most noticeable are those in the old and the young. The Old Man sits on the same seat on the couch everyday lost in his own thoughts. There’s a…
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Continue reading →: Hello
Dear Friends: Hope all of you are well and keeping up with your blogs. Thanks for your concern on my Facebook page regarding what on earth may have happened to me. It’s true that when a nameless, faceless person disappears from the interweb, it’s as if the person never was.…
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Continue reading →: The self in writingWhen man looks into a mirror he sees himself. When man looks into a book, what does he see? When man writes a book, who is he speaking to–to others or to himself? Why do most people write anyway, when it isn’t a school curriculum, a job requirement or something that…
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Continue reading →: HopeI step into the tub for a shower. Ahh. A greyish black speck against the perfectly smooth, white surface of the tub. I was bound to notice. Everything else was bleached clean, sparkling, sleek, shiny and fragrant. The slender faucets glinted in the recessed lighting, complexly designed yet pretty in…
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Continue reading →: Six ways to become a more productive writerOriginally posted on bottledworder: I’ve been thinking about how to become a more productive writer. Here’s six ways I came up with that could get the creative juices flowing: 1. Taking the stress off: Too many times, we forget that writing is just like an art or a craft or…
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Continue reading →: Email and the Parents
Originally posted on bottledworder: It was probably the year 2001 and I was checking my email in a computer lab in a school in Florida trying to concentrate amidst the loud noise that the dot matrix printers were making on the aisle (which were the only printers completely free for…
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Continue reading →: Of cool writer dudes
So you go to a party and are introduced to a stranger for the first time as a writer. Said stranger moves his chair up to you and decides to be nice. “So how’s the writing coming along?” he asks. Or even better, “What’s your novel about?” It seems to me…
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Continue reading →: Thrift Stores: Memories and ThingsI have this gigantic beige coat that has been lying unused a long time in my closet. It’s humongous with a gigantic aura of fake fur trimmings. It is certainly at least a size too big for me. It makes me look very well equipped for a trip to Antarctica…
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Continue reading →: Home and the Blog
What does my blog mean to me? Many a time, as I’ve sat by myself at night when the sounds of the day have quietened down and noises of the night have become louder, such as that of the whooshing of the AC, or thud of the softly falling snow…
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Continue reading →: Of bloggers, Birbal and birds: How to make yourself heard
An old post revisited How many of us bloggers are out there? A mind-boggling number very hard to grapple with for sure. Our sheer numbers reminded me of a well known tale of Akbar and Birbal I came across recently on my flight back to the US from India. It…
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Continue reading →: Commuters on a snowy day
There is nothing like sitting on a relatively empty commuter train and watching people lost in thought. And there is nothing like watching people lost in thought and seeing their thoughts grow and grow like nice little bubbles around their heads until someone comes in to take the next seat…
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Continue reading →: A great post I read this week
I chanced upon this piece by Elizabeth Gomez called My Life as an Engrish to English Translator a few days ago on the Freshly Pressed collection. I laughed hard and was touched by it and so I thought I’d share it with you. It relates a series of experiences where…
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Continue reading →: Requiem for a yellow leaf
My way of life Is fall’n into the sere, the yellow leaf; Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. It was a highly dreaded…
I’m, Bottledworder. Always inhabiting the half-streets, catching paradoxes, thinking in greys, trapping the world in words in my bottle.
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