I was born in a home wrapped in flesh and blood nutrients oozing through its walls beating with the rhythm of my own heart I was brought up in a home with a hundred helping hands carrying me around in circles hugging and holding my tender body I lived in a home of dust and smoke soot layered in the walls and floor washed with water, oil and soap I left a home sunlight filtering through the ceiling creepers crawling across its walls with smells of wood and metal Homes grew aro

"me gusta la ciudad. También me gusta el campo." View of Mumbai from Kanheri Caves, Maharashtra. During a particular monsoon in Goa, the...

Some days earlier, a strand of hair peeked out. Innocent, scared and doubtful. Was it the light? Or, Was it really white? Tilting my head...

Beneath a sea of blue Honing the crashing clouds you wait. A monstrous presence, intimidating yet reflecting strength and pride. I want...

Awakened by the persistent sound of the doorbell, he walks up to the door. Rubbing his groggy eyes, he fiddles with the latch. After a...

Many years later, Maya had returned back to India in search of something called home. She had left three decades ago, when she was a...

Mother 🏡 Tugging at her sari, I hide behind She smiles, reassuring Telling me to go into my second shrine I enter clueless, blinking...

It was a sultry summer day. Not like the humid ones that made you sweat through your clothes, but the dry ones where the sun pounded on...

The rattling noise of the wheels on the rails envelop my soft whimpers as I lay crying, curled up on the narrow berth of the moving train....