Shutter was a movie I enjoyed immensely, apart from the tight script and excellent acting, something else in the movie too grabbed my attention. A song. A few lines into it, I had a strange sense of deja vu. Something about it sounded so achingly familiar and close to heart. I am pretty tone deaf. It’s usually the words of a song that register in my mind first. So it was, in this case too. Yes, it was beginning to fall in place. I was recognizing the lines, although meeting those beloved lines here was quite unexpected. A quick Google search confirmed my doubts. Ee Rathriyil Njan Ezhuthunnu was indeed what I thought it was. Read the rest of this entry
Category Archives: On Writing
There is such a darkness within me that seems to grow with me.
A darkness that bores into my being
And fills up every empty space with its foulness.
Blinding, choking. Read the rest of this entry
I wish someone would bottle up the scent of the earth. Yes, scent. Not fragrance. Raw scent. Period.
Petrichor, they call it. The gasp of the parched earth as the first drops of rain caress it.
They say that if you are anaemic, you are more acutely aware of the scent of the earth. I was at one time. All it took was a drop on the parched earth to send me into a crazy whirlpool of lust for the earth. Now I am healthier and unquenchably thirsty. Read the rest of this entry
It’s a block. A humongous one the size of Texas and it is bothering me no end. Thanks to it, a couple of stories and a few posts lie languishing in my system, unfinished and unappealing. Whatever it is, I find it very convenient to blame it all on the all-encompassing WRITER’S BLOCK. Thank god for whoever invented or discovered it. I can lay the blame at that door for my inabilities and shortcomings and frustrations and lack of time and loss of the creative urge and ….. hey who am I trying to fool here…. Simply put, lay the blame for my laziness. Read the rest of this entry