God’s Own Country… Different Housing Rules Mrs Philomena Varghese of Kottayam was very proud of three things.Her house.Her garden.And the fact that people noticed both. The house had sixteen rooms, each with a purpose – even if some of those purposes remained undiscovered. Italian tiles gleamed like Sunday-morning shoes. The garden was trimmed so neatly […]
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The Day Curiosity Learned to Whisper St. Martin’s Institute of Applied Science and Technology in Mumbai was known as a quiet, disciplined place. It was not flashy. It did not appear often in newspapers. But among students and teachers, it had a reputation for seriousness and order. People believed that good work happened there, slowly
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The River Watching the Bank Life is not counted in years, but in moments that turn and see us,Like a lamp in a shrine aware of the one who bows. Time does not march; it settles like dew on a lotus leaf,Bright for a breath, then slipping away without regret. Some days vanish like footprints at the
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Honey in the Eyes I find the world the way a lamp finds oil – by looking.My eyes are bees; they return only with honey. What I speak is not the earth, but the mirror inside me.Words rise like birds from the weather of my seeing. The world holds thorns and roses on the same stem.I walk
Happy New Year: Where We Return What we name a beginning opens like a closing door.An ending bends back, like a road meeting its shadow.The last step rests where the first footprint waits.Ash cools into soil, as fire learns to sow. A river leaves the sea only to wear its face again.Night folds the day like
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On a Christmas Morning, Somewhere Near Tirur It was a Christmas Day journey. I was travelling by train from Thalassery to Thiruvananthapuram. Actually, I was returning from a funeral for one of my close relatives the previous day. Because it was Christmas, the train was unusually calm. Many had reached home the night before. The
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The Day She Thought I Was the Thief About thirty years ago, when I was in my forties, I was travelling from Trivandrum to Chennai on official work.It was meant to be an ordinary journey, one of many that had already begun to blur into routine. I reached the international airport early and settled into
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“Both Chickens, Please” Christmas was nearing, and the house was already preparing itself, even before the guests arrived. Our daughter was coming from Bangalore with her husband and the children. That meant early mornings, unplanned snacks, and meals that stretched beyond the table’s capacity. So one evening, my wife and I went to the butcher
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A Whisper, From a Mother I did not expect the night to feel like this.So cold.So quiet. As if the world had stopped breathingthe moment my body betrayed me. The wind moves through the trees above me,And their branches bend and sway,Like they know somethingI am afraid to say aloud. I stand alone,looking up at
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The Road Within Some journeys happen without moving feet,Like incense climbing while the shrine stands still;The lamp travels far where shadows meet,By holding flame, obedient to will. The mind begins its road when noise grows thin,It walks through thought the way night walks through breath;Old walls dissolve, new inner skies begin,And habits loosen their long
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