Bombay dreams in sepia tones,Konkan whispers through cracked phones.Kadak chai, now a bittersweet sip,Pani puri’s ghost on a longing lip.Local’s rhythm, a distant lullaby,Once scorned, now draws a wistful sigh.Mumbai’s chaos, a siren’s song,Calling me where I don’t belong.Reality fades, leaving only the shine,Of a home that was never so divine.Distance softens the rough and…

Bir. Paragliders dotted the horizon, landing in the wide-open space next to my temporary home. We all gravitated there, day after day. Six evenings, I was pulled in too.   Back in Bangalore, concrete and glass hem me in. No patch of earth to call our own, no place to just be.   Rewind to…