The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse: Just Breathe

Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse reminds me of some of the books I worship. Winnie The Pooh. Charlotte’s Web. The Little Prince. Quite like those timeless beauties, this book is a tight hug, a non-judgmental listener between a jacket, a therapist whom I can’t afford, an ageless wise person, … More The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse: Just Breathe

Of Noise And Light

On my blogs, I sound like Eeyore. My display of despair and melancholy is evident. I sound like Linus Van Pelt, sometimes. I share his misanthropy. Of course, minus his wisdom. The sad thoughts inspire me to write. I can’t remember the last time I wrote about the way I threw my head back and … More Of Noise And Light

Rivers Remember

I don’t remember the dates. Time looked like a capsule then. I only remember the evening when my ex-boss and I stood at Ascendas’ food court’s threshold and looked at the rain that seemed unrelenting. It rained as though the planet had never seen light, and that it only had seen nights and darkness and … More Rivers Remember

The Short-Haired Woman is Completely Fine

I loved Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s feminist, dark, tragicomedy Fleabag for many a reason. Not just for Phoebe’s phenomenal acting as the titular character or for the way how the show was generously peopled with women, but for a striking scene in which Fleabag breaks into a memorable monologue on hair. Fleabag holds her sister’s hand, bursts … More The Short-Haired Woman is Completely Fine