Behind the gradient of the mountains is a memory of you and me. Of a similar cold and a forgotten warmth, Of a river quietly…
Sit yourself in a sterile bell jar Nose to the grindstone Whip! How dare you weep? Pack the gaps with cotton Line the walls…
I have been running this hurdle race for so long That I can’t remember when it started. I saw you on the last lap…
I may not fit the definition But I’ve decided This is mid life. It would be a miracle if I lived to twice my current…
Neither an almond nor a doe One slightly smaller than its twin, Hidden behind bunkers of glass Under unkempt eyebrows Yellow, jaundiced evening skies…
पाकिटातल्या नाण्यांच्या कप्प्यात महिनोन्महिने दुमडून, जपून ठेवलेले तुरळक क्षण आणि आज कुठूनतरी झुळूक घेऊन आली तुझ्या दोन ओळी कप्पा भरला म्हणून की काय,…
इसी खिड़की पर कल तक काले–हरे परदे लगे हुए थे बगल की सड़क पर से गुज़री हुई हर मायूसी उसकी बुनाई में खो चुकी थी…
Immediately after Dassera as if she had been waiting in the wings, the Saptaparni spills her cardamom perfume on the streets below Bunches of…
Look, I’ve forgotten the murmur of your breathing That familiar rhythm as it rises and falls Has not lulled me to sleep in so many…
आजचा चंद्र पूर्ण व्हायला एका कंसाची कमतरता होती, फक्त आपलं बोलणं होता–होता अर्धवटच राहतं, तशीच. उद्या पूर्णचंद्र नक्की होईल, एवढाच काय तो फरक! …
I had packed away the umbrella and forgotten about the sunglasses. Bared myself for there was nothing to face. The evening turned cooler than…
नखांवरचं घासून घासून जेम–तेम राहिलेलं नेल पॉलिश काढायला कापूस सापडेना म्हणून देव्हाऱ्याच्या खालच्या खणात ठेवलेल्या न फोडलेल्या प्लास्टिक च्या पाकिटातून दोन वाती काढल्या …
I grieve you because I fear that if I don’t, I will forget you. That I will find you in a forgotten pocket Like…
पोळी लाटत लाटत ओळी आल्या नकळत दीस शोधिले एकांत पान माझे पांढरे. घर भरले फिरुनी कोलाहल माझ्या कानी लेकी पोरांची ग वाणी हेचि माझे गाणे!…
You could hear the water fill the bucket and overflow for the better part of an hour before Kaka emerged, a Rajapuri pancha wrapped around…
A train dhud-dhudding over a bridge above an endless creek A window pounding to the reckless boom of a teenager’s idea of party music in…
महफूज़ रहें मुझ में ही असमर्थताएं, शिकायतें मेरी मुझसे ही यही काफ़ी है के शब्द ग़मी छोड़ गए। सई कोरान्ने–खांडेकर
छेड़ो न मोहे री, बोगनवेलिया काहे चढ़त पड़ोसन की खिड़कियाँ नीर बहाऊँ मिट्टी में तोरी बोयी आशा थी बारह बरस पूरी भोर होत देखूं…
A third set of grandparents and a recipe for fruitcake
As grandmothers go, she fit the bill perfectly. Her softly starched, block printed or sheer woven Chanderi sarees would whisper as she walked slowly around…
Aubade
I’ve planned the day somewhere between REM and non, long before the 5:30 goes off. I turn it off ten minutes before its shrill ring…
Avanee’s first birthday cakes
I just realized I hadn’t put up any pictures from Avanee’s first birthday. Considering I write a food blog, it’s quite a shame I don’…
Black
Bloody black hole eats them all up Calls. Texts. Emails. The imagination gets fiercer— Are you alright? I talk to you in my head as…
Carpe Diem: A Lesson in Refrigeration
It struck me as I was throwing out a ziplock bag full of once-frozen strawberries that had now turned a bag of red liquid with…
Dada
Did you ask for your ashes to be dispersed in the Indrayani Or did we assume you’d like it that way? We opened our fists, …
Diagnosis
An explanation for all the things you said but didn’t mean An excuse for all the things you didn’t do but meant to. A…
Gun point and consequences
Sunday was so good, it’s taken me until Wednesday to write about it. It all started like this—I had been watching and reading about husbands…
How my 2-year-old daughter took an insulin shot and I realized I am a bad mommy
One fine evening last week, Avanee was eating rice with me as we watched our favorite show on television. (No, it wasn’t CBeebies; it was…
How sugarcane jaggery is made
I have always been incredibly fond of jaggery. One of my earliest memories is of sitting with my friend Madhura on the stairs of the…
I am a food blogger
Last night, I had a bit of a breakdown. I had been fighting it for a bit, but in my mother’s home, in the midst…
Kitchen kindred
The creaking fan that needed to be rewound was the only company she had. The monotonous sounds of the autorickshaws punctuated by the shocking screeches…
Kokum Juice Concentrate
Before Maushi and Kaka moved to their lovely little red bricked bungalow in Khanapur, they lived in a rented love nest on the upper floor…
Kolhapur
Too many alleys leading up to too many Maha Dwaars Too many gods in one temple Which one am I looking for? Every year, a new rickshaw-walla driving…
Of missing a maid and impressing another
Mrs. B, my cook and domestic help since the time I got married and moved to this town, has gone on a month-long holiday to…
On Visarjan
Does their religion awaken If we lose sleep Over drums banging doom And voices sloganeering threats to crescents and stars? Does their god enjoy…
Perhaps it’s the same thing
I don’t know the pain of birthing. All three of my children were yanked out of incisions just below my enormous belly as I lay…
Phansaachi Athla-Gara Bhaaji (Stir fried Young Jackfruit)
Summers in Khanapur were redolent with the heady fragrance (or stench, if you didn’t like them) of ripe jackfruit among other aromas such as mango…
Sontakka
The window is weeping when the signal brake opens my eyes. A deluge of impatient cars are at least 5 feet beyond the mark, each…
The girl who didn’t cry at birth
She must have been exhausted from fighting the coils around her neck or something But baby Avanee didn’t cry at birth. Doctor Ketkar had to…
To a friend, lost and found
Writing to you after nearly two decades feels like I’m writing to a new person for the first time. But then I think of…
To god, with love
Last weekend, we performed a small pooja at home. There has been a spate of illnesses and other sudden and unexplained, seemingly unjustified challenges at…
Translated Loksatta article: Iced Kaleidpscopes and a Recipe for Alphonso Mango Sorbet
This article appeared in Chaturanga, the magazine section of Loksatta on June 2, 2012. View the original article here. Iced Kaleidoscopes If you grew up…
Trikaya Farm visit
On the drive back home from the Trikaya farm in Talegaon, I felt deprived. Of fruit and vegetables. Not that I live in a desert….
Two Poems
Dedicated to the long line of Tabebuia Rosea trees along the Eastern Express Highway in Mumbai, that bloom in the Indian Spring. Spring: Chaitra Don’t…
दिग्गज मंडळींच्या मैफिलीत…
दिग्गज मंडळींच्या मैफिलीत तुझ्या आवाजातला कंप शोधत होते. पण वीस वर्षांत एकदाही गायला नाहीस. तो हळवेपणा आता माझाच झालाय पुसट आठवणीत जपायला. ***…