nostalgia tastes like

An erasure poem of Chapter 1 of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Every Time My Mother Brings Up Arranged Marriage, I Say:

"In summer, the Sasquatch met a Kumquat Orchardist moonbathing naked underneath the fragrant white blooms, messily gorging on a sandwich, the cheese dripping down her chin."

Did You Hear About The Sasquatch?

"Cold, yellow masala-drenched Maggi noodles coagulated in the shape of tiffin boxes—circles, squares, rectangles—were a delicacy that tasted good when shared with friends at school, and downright sinful when gobbled hidden away---"

Instant Happiness Masala

"Outside, the rain falls softly, but relentlessly, icy needles colliding and melting against the glass window. Inside, the rumpled bed sheets are a cocoon for naked bodies tangled together, the heat between them hellfire and heaven."

When It Rains

"Imagine a MONTAGE in a film (don’t ask what genre of film, it’s still being written)..."

Pitching A Scene To My Dad

"You pat your hair down, put your glasses back on, and then take in the tsunami-hit wreckage of your wavy hair. 

The enormity of what you have done dawns upon you and you begin to panic."

Haircut; An Attempt At Something Significant

"Nobody ever tells you how hard it is to kill someone, to extinguish their life. Nobody tells you how much your muscles ache in trying to strangle a struggling man, almost twice your size, as he attempts to throw you off."

The Matchmaker

January, the Stray Arrives

"Strange how dead things grow on and from our living bodies, and we often treasure them as if they were the essence of life. I can't condemn anyone for treasuring their hair, though. My hair were—are?— my one vanity."

Mugdhaa Ranade

Selected work