Scribbles and tales
Just a few things I find intriguing about how Christianity in other parts of India is super different from that in Kerala. A heads up for the next time you ask if one can be both, a Malayalee and a Christian!
Illustrations by: Shreya Bhardwaj This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots and people are talking about it way more than they did a year ago. It’s probably also because I’ve been recently exposed to a lot of stories regarding the struggles of not fitting in. In India, amidst other subjects of concern... Continue Reading →
People say they own dogs. I’ve never owned one. Who am I to own something so priceless? However, I’ve loved many. As a toddler, I’d been distanced from animals. They were to look at and admire, not to be touched or played with. I was around 6 years old when my uncle brought home his... Continue Reading →
June. It’s the month of eternal bliss for us Malayalees who are surviving farther north from where our parents learned to walk. The very air changes flavor as soon as the train enters Kerala borders. The tourist version of Kerala is something all have seen or read about. The Kerala my childhood had been to,... Continue Reading →
It’s been a hundred years since those 10 horrific minutes that marked a turning point in the Indian independence struggle. The Jalianwala Bagh massacre still sends shivers down the spine just by the mention and the ground stands witness to the inhuman atrocities of the British Empire till date. At Jallianwala Bagh, which is a... Continue Reading →
(Inspired by a girl who doesn't just drink tea, she gets consumed by it.) A wake up call, a love that’s all, A hangout buddy on a roadside stall. So many flavours so many colours, a fragrance so deep one wouldn’t recover. All this and more, for tea-lovers hardcore, except one who observes, breathes it... Continue Reading →
There was a time when he was good to me, When he treated me like a flower. The tables soon turned, all the coins flipped, His ugly side then came to power. Smiles changed to frowns, days into weeks, When I realised there was nothing left to redeem. The songs we once used to hum... Continue Reading →
She is fearless, full of fear, and sometimes both. Knowing her is a splendid adventure. “If you get perplexed by the time you finish reading this, another woman in black was just doing her part.” “Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the Worlds.” said the woman in black, dressed in the hijab that was... Continue Reading →
The left handed Fiona 