Possible Novel….

meerabaiCalcutta is home to so many worlds. Through conversations, through hearsay, I was inspired. This is just a glimpse of what may happen.

It’s the beginning of a novel, but I’m not very good at finishing something. Let’s see. But for now, I’m sharing what I’ve done, based on what I’ve heard.

Frangipani Blossom

I started this and like most things, I haven’t finished it. I’m not sure I ever will. But it needs an audience, because like Gods, writings need to be recognised to survive. This is too precious to be relegated to my trash can or forgotten in a folder, never to be opened. So let it be here, for now. 

Let me know what you think…





Mrinamayi-Made of clay

Today she was Mrinamayi. She sat as if she held a stringed instrument; her left leg folded under her right, which was bent upwards, her knee pointing to the ceiling. Her hair flowed in brown waves, down her straight back, and on her forehead a dot of vermillion, a slightly smudged yet perfect circle.

Mrinamayi sat watching, perfectly still, perfectly straight, invisible. Her figure cast a sillouhette in the window and reminded the observer of Meerabai, Lord Krishna’s famous…

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