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Almost all my returns are well timed with how the sky back at home should look

A clear-dandruff like collection of cloud should mean, I am coming to the ruffle of leaves. A cue to the coral should mean it is 7 and I am to miss tea. A well stationed azure should mean the bus will have left by the time I reach. A wind is still learning to settle what it is going to leave behind. On the roads when people spill along with brown leaves, there is a reflection Of a chai spilled, a biscuit broken — A tip to summer and an earthworm. When I arrive early, I take a longer route. When I arrive late, I am already seeing the sky at home (but at some other place). Glad that the one thing that won’t move with me will be this scene. I am occupied in looking around because I do not need to carry the sky, or pack it, or remember it forever. Also, I can’t really do any of those things. Even knowing that my travels speak to me More about home, should have made me feel adjusted. Most days, I feel Well Traveled.
Recent posts

Jumping through points - reviewing Brahmastra

This review contains spoilers.  The lead pair wears white (mostly). The attackers wear black (always).  Heroes are glowing because how else would we have recognised who they are — the title of the film is not enough. T he female protagonist, Isha, isn't shown to have any life of her own as she goes to take the articles of the male protagonist, Shiva, as he trains in the mountains. The Himalayas is talked about as the next shopping arcade in Connaught Place and not a mountain range which spans from west to east. I mean it can't be bigger than the film right?  In being called a button or pataka, there is humour.   Such is their huge world, that the movie Brahmastra makes me feel stupid.  Even though the story is about astras, which are shown as some kind of objects, the vision of the storytellers was okay with treating humans as objects too (well apart from the big stars of the story - because they will have an arc as well as a voice). Maybe in a movie that lacks quality dialogue

How to build a home with walking: Book Review of Tales of Hazaribagh

Evening at Dhauligiri, Odisha. These days I have been trying to understand places. I am not even a regular walker but I think about outside a lot when I am inside. I walk and walk because that is what slows me down. To walk is to move at a regular pace by lifting and setting down each foot in turn, never having both feet off the ground at once. There is so much rhythm in walking, that all my poems land on the ground first, as words find a crack between black tar and stare at this gap with curiosity, like crows at the passing bulldozers. Tales of Hazaribagh is that ‘lifting and setting down each foot in turn’. A Zeitroman, the book is an intimate exploratory account of something which neither ends nor begins. Hazaribagh is pursued actively in conversations, anecdotes, histories, spectacular ordinariness amidst aids like, Google Earth, a prophetic grandfather who knows everything about everything, and confident young guides like Md. Danish Ansari.  Morning sun in Lansdowne Divided into s

7C writes

Some words make grass greener Some actions make a star seem smaller  When 7C writes, we all seem closer   Sharing some of their lines, Their trials with a superpower prompt And a tyre as a hula-hoop Some tell their superpowers Some ask—   .   She could change the world whichever way she thought That day onwards, with her darkness, she tried her best to bring light to others She could control the dead from dread Ocean trusted her He saw a rainbow-coloured bird She could make a house with the help of clouds. Creative Recycling, traveling as fast as lightning, Superpower to control lightning, water, underworld, time… Phew! Oh wait, there's more --- to fly in sky, super strength to carry large stones, a brain better than Einstein, a power to run fast, reverse time, and even go to future; fighting Ronan with her lightning, d reaming of meeting Avengers peculiar; a power to turn anything into a new form Saving diamonds with Hulk’s power of breaking,

Comic: On crows and New Delhi