It’s not that it’s become easier to forget, Only that it’s no longer so hard to remember.
Deck the malls with boughs of folly. Fa la la la la at the red robot; some crismas for me meddem? hungry boy don’t do crime. And you got some crismas for me? pudding and pie. I am the ghost of Christmas presents. I am everywhere that will take your […]
It happened just after my eyes fell on the notice stuck to one of the walls at Khan’s Butchery. “Ready fried onions. Perfect for vagaars and biryanis. Don’t be fooled by imitations”.
…and thank the Almighty you did not emerge from her.
(An unedited excerpt from “The daughter of no one famous”) Under the grey fleece of sunset, the muezzin called out for Maghrib. She hated this time of day. It was lead on her brain, oppressive and dim.
It’s not that I don’t want you. Almighty Forbid. May that not be taken for prayer. It’s just that I don’t want you right just now. If I were having guests over for lunch, would I tell them to come at 10am? They’d eat their fingers while I chopped onions. […]
Some meh offerings, I couldn’t quite channel the inspiration right.
Its brand story is an inspired conception; a narrative crafted to knead and unknot that part of the consumer’s brain responsible for decision-making.
So as someone who once studied that kind of thing to pass a few exams, I know that Hemingway and Picasso didn’t actually soak up their genius-vomit with the same oilskin-bound acid-free papers I see in Exclusive Books and hear with angel-song accompaniment.
it was a fault of shortsight.