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Some Non-fiction Essays...
We Carry Our Father's Ashes
We gather our father’s ashes in our dead mother’s old bed sheet, red and white, the color of his blood and calcified bones.
Do You Remember the Secret We Share?
Do you remember that time I skipped my train midway from Indore to Bombay to spend a clandestine day and two nights in your city?
Cloudburst
I won’t apologize for trying to forget the days I spent with you, riding pillion on your Honda, inhaling Bombay’s foggy polluted streets...
Leg Warmer
The first time a boy accidently touches your leg you are fourteen...
Marriage of a Different Kind
I’m on an overnight train from Indore to Ahmedabad with Ma to meet with a prospective suitor.
The Son of Immigrants
The son of immigrants will never know the joy of playing badminton under the street light in front of the house while scooters and mopeds ...
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