Tag Archives: Jane Austen

A lapsed friend’s guide to friendship

3554207544_398a0d6b82_oIt’s morning. In one hand, a chalice of china cradles caffeine. The other, a couple of chocolate cookies clutched, is poised to dunk. I am arrested before a steel kitchen sink, pondering the intricacies of friendship. While out the window, a Pipal tree burgeons in the summer heat outwards, skyward. Seven stories high, it’s a giant, a million heart-shaped leaves sussurate hypnotically to me standing still inside, armoured with coffee and biscuit. These leaves, connected to each other through near and distant branches, twist in the wind in all directions, turning toward one another, then away.
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Chafing against comfort

The Malayalam word for mother ‘amma’.

The act of sleeping seems to paralyse vocal cord functions. When fear grips me in the dark of the night I call out in my sleep. But no words come forth from my sleeping form. What comes out instead is a ghoulish primeval sound akin to the word for mother, a sound that goes back to the evolutionary origins of the human species.

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