What Makes Me Mad Keeps You Sane

Oh Love of mine, if you were bathing in the same sea of intoxicating madness such as I, you'd cast your pearls before swine, sell off your bracelets and anklets, and take the first plane - or a bus, or a train, or a taxi (whatever suits your transport taste) and come home to me…

Highway Blues

At 3 in the morning at a bus stop: amid mosquito bites, buzzing insects, train announcements, police sirens, staring policemen, snarling dogs, hum of truck wheels rolling on the highway, and the stink of a fellow traveller's feet, sleep is desired like cure for the sick; all in the city where Ashoka fought the battle…

To the Amazement of the Taxi driver

The traffic on the road, as usual, is high. The taxi driver in the gloomy and busy hour of the morning when people swarm like bees on the road, wonders where the new fare will take him. The new fare, whose eyes are as wide open as the rooster's in the morning, and who wears…