The Impossibility of a Dialogue

“We live through troubling times” said Bholu the ghoda, “The world as we know today as ours will disappear from the face of this planet. Today our little island formally known as Jambudwipa is surrounded by an ever growing understanding that pretends to know better than what we always knew to be good for us. They seek to change and transform us for our own good and for the sake of our own soul, for they worry too much about the terrible fates that await us and they think in their broad wisdom that the only way we can save our misguided selves is by letting them work over it. Today we have come to doubt the very word ‘Self’. So I would invite our esteemed friend and guide the Jackal to come over here and speak to us about matters relating to our Self and what possibilities open us to a state of dialogue with forces that seek to change it with the pretence of saving us from our-own-dark-and-lost-selves.” [...]

The forgetting of Gandhi’s Challenge to the project of Modernity

The forgetting of Gandhi’s Challenge to the project of Modernity Incomplete essay written in 2001 which exist only as fragments and quotes, notes all scattered on the page so please bear with me as I hope to complete it someday, also, this time I will use Vinay Bhals article to re[frame] and repost and in [...]

The Holy

Time leafs, and leaves
a dark quiet.

…and then perhaps
to live life, to see it
to give an account of oneself.

too briefly come

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The Chudail of Banglapur

Clang, clang, fuch the knife tore through Mark Lee’s right bicep staining his white silk sleeves red.
Even from a distance I could see the 2 inch long cut gaping like parted lips vomiting blood.
We rushed him to the hospital where he was declared dead.
His last words were Chi, Chi.
People kept telling me that it was not the knife but Chi that killed him. No one ever dies of a cut on his arms. True. But then what killed him! I have wracked my brain over the matter but his death remains shrouded in mystery.
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