The fuzzy white bugs stick to the soft green stems. Lazy, their inert bodies suck the sap  silently. Tentacles unmoving, they  cling to the plant with an obstinacy that makes me question my motives: Do I have a greater right to these fruits? Their presence, persistent despite repeated  spraying of pesticide amazes me, Should I emulate that tenacity and latch  and suck out nourishment with abandon? Then I look at their host, the wilting  Leaves dotted brown, the flowers Falling prematurely, the infestation spreading Not gradually. I steel myself and prepare to  bruise the neem leaves across the street, concoct … Continue reading Mealybugs

Writing unhappy

I haven’t been able to write for weeks now. Because of this, I realised that I only write when I am happy and excited. This excitement is what makes me want to chase an interesting idea, to want to learn something new. Each piece of writing is this chase, an attempt to understand something. So why am I writing this now, when I feel the opposite of happy and excited? For one, the current moment is slightly better than most of my recent days have been. These moments of respite are fleeting, but they enable me to go on with … Continue reading Writing unhappy


Today, I found myself recalling the time when I had decided that my goal was to become an independent and self-sufficient person. I was going to be someone who didn’t need people, just sometimes wanted them around. I remember that I never felt lonely in that phase and was mighty proud of it. I thought only boring people got lonely, that a person with interesting thoughts would be content in their own company. I wonder if this is a common experience. Maybe something that comes around in teenage when a person realises that their heroes were as fallible as everyone … Continue reading In-dependence