It is that time of the year when I am running out of supportive underwear and things are starting to feel a little too… free. I head to one of those little shops where women pull out boxed bras and… Continue Reading →
Coping with pandemic has been tough but for the past three months, one of my lifelines has been waiting every Tuesday morning to watch Michaela Coel’s show– I May Destroy you. It replenished me, dispelled the ennui induced by living… Continue Reading →
My tryst with bird watching began when I discovered an expensive pair of binoculars sitting in my cupboard, unused after its impulsive procurement several years ago. We’d used it to watch wild bears and whales on our holiday in the… Continue Reading →
It is a warm and lazy afternoon. I am on my mother’s bed, listening to the ceiling fan humming, trying to squeeze in a power nap. The door is nudged open and he enters, tottering slowly to his bed, emitting… Continue Reading →
Last week I went for a pop-rock concert. After enduring two hours of Bengaluru traffic, waiting in a queue to enter the arena and using a disgusting port-a-loo, we jostled through clumps of people at varied states of inebriation to… Continue Reading →
“We all have to live with the parts of ourselves that are broken and find a way to be happy.” Sarai Walker’s book ‘Dietland’ has been adapted into a TV series with one season released so far. I haven’t yet… Continue Reading →
The earliest memory I have of honest writing was when I was 12. Although I’d kept a diary since I was eight, up to that point it composed mostly of details of – silly daily rants, tiffs with friends, boys… Continue Reading →
Konkona Sen Sharma’s directorial debut is as expected- a film that progresses slowly with little plot and music (save for two renditions of Aud Lang Syne and two folk songs) and somehow still manages to stay with you like an… Continue Reading →
Suppose my head exploded What would you see Hidden amidst the smithereens of pink, pulpy flesh A frozen frame of the last dream My last coherent thought at the edge of a smoking gun Broken lobes, blood and fat Is… Continue Reading →
I’ve been freelance writing for a bunch of publications and one of them asked me for a good picture of myself. Digging through my phone and other albums, the sad realization dawned- In the past five years I haven’t managed… Continue Reading →
© 2021 Pensive Piscean — Powered by WordPress
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑
Recent Comments