At the Kashmiri Gate metro station, a child in a bright blue dress breaks free from her parents, runs laughing– into the cool, rushing air. And then what? She turns and returns– and then what? More laughing and growing– and…
-Christmas Day, 2021 i. One morning, during the plague that followed the fires that scarred the capital, you were feeding our pet rat, when word came from the town cryer: The farmers have circled the city. ii. A year and…
Last night, I dreamt my sister spoke up in the council, and when I rose to back her, I felt a gentle tremor. No matter if it’s UP, Kashmir or even Delhi, when your sibling stands, you must stand up…
-September, 2021 Just before the downpour, I thought of Umar Khalid, and how many days he’s spent in Tihar jail. Later, the still sky clung to us like a soggy face mask, and we heard the hard, sharp shouts of…
-after Kabir Friends, I have seen astonishing sights: a great seer slain by invisible invaders; proud men cueing for buses, or liquor, to flee a failing capital; kings and princes kissing their master’s hidden hand while their subjects struggle to…
When I tell you what it means to me to live in Delhi, I won’t use trending music or a dozen flashing photos approved by the Ministry of Tourism— just a few words to conjure images– that pair of young…
Smog has wrapped the city like a fine wool shawl when my mother calls to say she hasn’t slept in days— because of the news on TV and our friend who is dying. I know she is right; these are…
The late July damp has settled on the city like a sweat soaked shirt, but you continue on the footpath outside the hospital where workers go to smoke and crows gather to feed on stale roti and seed. Further on,…
Remember how we threw open the windows to watch the storm pass over the city— it arrived just past midnight, and even after it was so far gone that we could no longer hear its thunder, it still lit up…
We’re more than the sum of our rations and pay, how much we add to the GDP— you be the breeze on my summer day; I’ll be the malai in your lassi.
I’ve been reading the Communist Manifesto, and also Wikipedia, and I think we have some things in common. We both want a world ‘in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all’ and…
-Jahanpanah, 1341Smoke drifts in from campswhere starving men stewanimal hides and rotten meat. The sultan is angry; the traveler is put under guard—he fasts for nine days, reciting, Allah is sufficient for us,and most excellent is the Protector.Freed, he finds an excuse to…
How many summers have comesince Harappa and Mohenjo-daro faded or fell? We’ve all heard the story:a rivers runs dry or changes course, a new pestilence rides into town,crops wither in baking fields.Each time it happens must seem like the first time—hungry families camp outside city…
The Delhi smoke is thicktonight, my love— but here on this wide road,the wind is cool. Remember how it used to taste, you say— like burning plastic, fear, and diesel fuel. This year, there is a new scent in the…
In UP last year, 93,000 people applied for 62 government jobs— jobs that required a Class 5 education and bicycle riding skills; of the applicants, 3,700 held PhD’s, and 20,000 held post graduate degrees. You have read many stories like…
You tell me that you’re always sad;you want to run away, but ask,How can I run from myself? I want to say you’re not alone; lakhs, no crores are asking questions just like this— all over the worldrich and poor…
It is difficult to remember when it was or could be, but theAugust sun was low, the air was clear and damp, and the roadswere still, except for the rattle and ring of cycles and bells. Wewere walking through narrow…