-
Recent Posts
Recent Comments
10 Women, 10 Questio… on Ghosts Romance Reader on The art of losing Aditi on Simulated Annealing Neha on Simulated Annealing Komorebi | Just anot… on Komorebi, or the sunlight filt… Archives
- February 2023
- January 2023
- September 2020
- May 2020
- April 2020
- July 2019
- April 2019
- March 2019
- February 2019
- November 2018
- June 2018
- May 2018
- April 2018
- March 2018
- February 2018
- January 2018
- November 2017
- October 2017
- September 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- April 2017
- March 2017
- February 2017
- January 2017
- December 2016
- October 2016
- September 2016
- July 2016
- June 2016
- May 2016
- January 2016
- December 2015
- September 2014
- July 2014
- June 2014
- April 2014
- December 2013
- July 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- September 2012
- July 2012
- November 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
Categories
- Baby
- baking
- Bengali food.
- Chutney
- City Life
- Dehra Dun
- Emotions
- Experience
- Family
- Favorite Foods.
- Festival
- Flow
- Foodie Aside.
- Foodie experiments
- Introduction
- Learning cooking
- Life in general
- memories
- Mom
- Mountains
- Mumbai food
- Party
- Poetry
- Random
- Reading
- Reflections on life
- Restaurant food.
- South Indian food
- spaces
- Sweets
- time
- Travel
- Uncategorized
- Vacation
- water
- Women
- words
Meta
Monthly Archives: March 2018
The Wind-up Bird Chronicle #8*
a few weeks ago you were in the forest wandering among the silk cotton trees, their flaming red flowers littered on the path mirroring the passion in you; the various birds flitting on their branches calling softly to you, while … Continue reading
Posted in memories, Poetry, time, Travel
Tagged forest, memory, murakami, silk cotton tree, time, wind-up bird
Leave a comment
Used goods
the peel of a banana, the wrapper of a chocolate, a much anticipated love letter, the package a gift came in, I found these in the trash today; these once contained things that people held to their lips gently, tasting … Continue reading
A walk through tea gardens
The mist hangs down this Saturday morning as I step onto the wet, slushy path we walked on the moonless night before its ups and downs becoming clear to me now. You will leave soon, and I am inhaling the … Continue reading