On December 30, 2021 at around 11.15 pm, I stood timid and fearful in the midst of a hostel room two arm spans wide. The sparse furniture and sleet walls, the broken tile and clinical smell of the bathroom took over my senses as I attempted to process four entire months away from home for … Continue reading remembering goodbyes
Author: Harshita Kale
the joys and woes of the ‘tortured artist’
The tortured artist – that image of a starving, struggling, shabby but sexy creative figure has been an oddly alluring archetype since generations. A person who doesn’t sacrifice morality at a moneyed altar and pours themselves into their craft by the burning midnight wick -- who is weary but still righteous. The tortured artist is … Continue reading the joys and woes of the ‘tortured artist’
bombay aur jootein
65 days in Mumbai. Upon submitting my undergraduate thesis almost exactly four months ago, I could never have imagined that my feet and fate would lead me here. I had dreams and aspirations of becoming a writer, a journalist (to make it sound more ‘career-friendly’) and where else could I have yearned to be if … Continue reading bombay aur jootein
summer in manipal
It’s been twenty long days since I returned home to Pune. But home is also a place far, far away. Presenting – an entry from April 1st, 2023. * As part of my final semester as an undergraduate student of Humanities in Manipal, I was part of a writer’s workshop. The workshop spanned eight sessions … Continue reading summer in manipal
can’t help but call all these words my own
Growing up multilingual was simultaneously a joyous and a messy affair. I spoke Konkani with my mother and her family; Marathi with my father and the other residents of my teeming city; and Hindi and English perhaps because almost every child raised in contemporary India will learn at least a proverbial few words of both … Continue reading can’t help but call all these words my own
belgaum, by the window
journal entry: 03.12.21-05.12.21 This journal entry documents some of my thoughts during my stay with my grandparents in Belgaum, Karnataka; mostly as I sat at Abu's wooden desk, gazing at the lush green foliage sparkling in the sunlight beyond the window. You might have guessed that from the title. (: I try and keep my … Continue reading belgaum, by the window
a poem for september
september gave me lifeand nestled me within its falling leaves, brilliant--greens, goldens,tangerines and crimsonsi sense these autumn windsmeandering within my body,weaving my tapestries. much of this year has been grey and overcast,but i still see september rainsglistening on the streets,tapering off leaves,the winds part and unite these murky clouds,so that i may knowthat there still … Continue reading a poem for september
on plants and growing–a lesson from my basil plant
Behold the newest visitor to our garden, a little basil plant. It planted itself into an empty pot of its own will, and is scarcely a month old. Nobody in my family has any clue as to how or when it rooted itself amidst the fragrant earth. But everyday when my mother and I come … Continue reading on plants and growing–a lesson from my basil plant
six
April 2021 marks six years since I wrote my first (serious) post for this blog (well, as serious as a twelve year old can be). I’m not sure why a ‘big five’ celebration never occurred to me in 2020. Perhaps it was a reminder of hope I was meant to discover only this year. (: … Continue reading six
A Culinary Journey Through Memory
They say food is that which brings together family and community, and there truly is a quiet intimacy about sharing food cooked at one hearth. But when one thinks about it, it is also inextricably entwined with individual identity and how we perceive ourselves as part of a cultural mosaic. Indeed if our lives were … Continue reading A Culinary Journey Through Memory
h's musings 