In the Mannagudda house in Mangalore where the tallest point of the slope touched sky and one section of houses bent their ears to gravity.
When it rained in Mangalore, amma made us wear raincoats and carry umbrellas but we’d still get wet. One afternoon after school we went looking for a new house in an auto. The broker was on his bike in front of us, his feet slanting upward on both footrests. We followed his yellow raincoat. TheContinue reading “Once Upon a Rainy Mangalore Day”
Some cities are like Bollywood songs. You might forget the lyrics but you’ll still remember the tune, one or two specific words, the hero’s jataks, and the heroine’s mataks. Mangalore is that ooru. I’ll only know it through its sounds. The frogs are alive and croaking, the trucks on the Kottara Chowki highway drone onContinue reading “Mangalore, Dec 2017”
This piece was written over a stretch of the first few rainy evenings in September. On the first evening, I sat at the department computer, earphones plugged in — listening to YouTube audios of croaking frogs, crickets and other night sounds. Mangalore and Goa are two of my favourite cities because the frogs here knowContinue reading “F.R.O.G.S”
At Meta this year, we inaugurated a series called the ‘Double Action.’ Members of the Department picked a story/essay in a regional language, translated it and read it in the original — the translation being projected on a screen. I couldn’t find things online that I could translate so I wrote a personal essay inContinue reading “Punugu Bekku”
When something is lost at home, Mouma says that we can find it by praying to Goddess Kottuncheri and that when we do find it; we must please her by celebrating our joy. Kottuncheri, like all rituals has a coconut, a vessel to keep it in, some beetle leaves, and five women. The coconut isContinue reading “Kottuncheri”
Mouma’s neck is wrinkly like her hands. If I put my hands around her neck, and give it a good squeeze, I imagine I can feel the soft wriggly mass of bloody veins inside. When Mouma uses fair and lovely, she rubs her palms over her face and the film never leaves her. Not evenContinue reading “Mouma”
Up until the 6th standard, I was a convent girl. In both Mangalore and Belgaum, my father made sure we studied in an all girls’ convent. Now I sort of like the idea of studying in a convent but back then I dreaded it. There were so many things that I could not understand aboutContinue reading “X – Xmas”