My Articles 

The first copies of Tea and Tombs: Poems on Hyderabad arrived today. A speed post parcel from Kolkata. Brown paper. Fresh ink. Crisp pages. A cover I had only seen on screens until now. I held the book for a long time before opening it. There is something deeply unsettling about seeing your own poems in print. These were once loose sheets tucked into diaries, forgotten notebooks, computer folders, and Google Docs. They belonged to years that had already passed. Suddenly they

Last evening, while gazing upon the Hyderabad skyline from my window, I found myself momentarily arrested by the sight of a crescent moon suspended delicately above the city. It was one of those rare evenings when the heavens briefly forgive urban planning. The moon floated there with old world serenity while beneath it rose the contemporary ambitions of mankind in concrete, glass, and questionable architectural confidence. Cranes stood like mechanical giraffes. Apartment tow