wonders of the world

At this point, a tomato comes to symbolise marxism.

god's work

Read it. Repent.

diwali thoughts

If you're a devout Hindu, and someone mistakes you for a Muslim, you'd be offended.

If you're a devout Muslim and someone mistakes you for a Christian, you'd be offended.

If you're a devout Christian and someone mistakes you for a Hindu, you'd be offended.

But that's not the point. The point is that when a religious festival is around the corner, you make it a point to wish people around you. "Happy Diwali," I am told. I usually just say "Thank you."

I don't know what else to say, without offending the person who has just wished me. After all, it was just a simple good wish.

But I'm atheist.

And it HURTS MY SENTIMENTS to be mistaken for religious.

lose yourself

"I write. I write that I am writing. Mentally I see myself writing that I am writing and I can also see myself seeing that I am writing. I remember writing and also seeing myself writing. And I see myself remembering that I see myself writing and I remember seeing myself remebering that I was writing and I write seeing myself write that I remeber having seen myself write that I saw myself writing that I was writing and that I was writing that I was writing that I was wrirting. I can also imagine myself writing that I had already written that I would imagine myself writing that I had written that I was imagining myself writing that I see myself writing that I am writing."

Salvador Elizondo / The Graphographer

who i am

44 years old. Male. Married. Two kids. That's me.

So now I've broken my silence.
Now you know a little more about who I am.

my grandmother

she died on this date 4 years ago.

we had a pooja today.

i think about her everyday. there have been times when i've had violent spells of missing her. there are all the things she made for me when she was alive which i refuse to throw away. and also this curious habit i developed of refusing to kill mosquitoes and flies. i seemed to have developed it after she died. i understand that she needed to leave.

and then this prayer meeting. we've had one every year on this date to honour her memory. the first year, i was petrified of attending it. i was scared of re-living the memories it may bring back. i was scared of watching everyone cry.

it's rather curious how expressions of bereavement subside over time. this year i felt it was my duty to be there. it wasn't about memories or intense emotions or anything else. made me think a lot. it's more of a ritual now. dry duty. or a blunt pattern. if i was dead, i'd rather my friends/family perform a remebrence service whenever they really, really missed me in the vacuum that death creates. for the feeling of me, not for the sake of keeping a date.

go read

this