the eyes

17.11.2025

S: A look for a look. Eyes into eyes. Two gazes becoming one.

A: What about it?

S: She searches for who I am. I search for what she is.

A: How do you know what she sees?

S: Who can know everything? And yet we look. The heart searches.

A: What is this one that you search for?

S: She is sympathy. She is compassion. She is connection to this life.

A: Your look is a hunger for life?

S: I look at the colours in her eyes. At the blackness in the centres. The eyes are the crowns of the face, the universe in a face…

A: Can everything be in an eye? Can anything be in an eye?

S: The look is effort in this life. My great grandfather was a saint and they say a power fell from his blue eyes. Those blue eyes that have been gifted to me from India. With all my power, with all my masculine energy, I look into her eyes. Looking for the gaze of the Goddess in return, the divine feminine. Shakti. Power itself.

A: The eyes are twin sisters.

S: When you look with desire, the looks of desire become twins. They become magnets. They become magic.

A: You have learnt hypnosis.

S: The enchantress has taught it to me.

Impatience (microfiction)

S: In the Indian songs they sing of restlessness, impatience, lack of peace. ‘Bechaini’.

A: In what context?

S: Love.

A: You have felt it?

S: You have not?

A: It is a question for a question?

S: Apparently. We rush towards them. Within the heart, a wild stallion rushes at full speed, impossible to bridle… Will they come? Do they still love me? Are we still together? The desire to meet them, to have them, it increases and increases…

A: It is true what they say. Love is a sickness.

S: I hope we all catch this disease. What is wellness if it is not love?

A: Everything cannot be love.

S: That is because the world is made by those that do not and cannot love. Or can only love themselves.

holding hands (microfiction)

16.11.2025

S: When I got into the station, a young hooligan pushed the gates to get free entry. Then, when I came home from London, again at the same station, I watched someone push through those same gates to get out. The workers there did nothing to stop it both times.

A: I feel like this is not over yet.

S: When the bus was pulling out of the station, it had to stop. Some idiot had parked his car in the bus lane so that we couldn’t squeeze past.

A: Why focus on these things?

S: I’m trying to tell you about the people that I live with in my area. What I have to live with.

A: Forget about that. Talk about something different.

S: Why do people hold hands?

A: To connect?

S: But how did it originate? Why grab someone’s hands?

A: It is the primary way that we touch, through our fingers and hands.

S: That might be one explanation. How about this for a theory? If you hold hands, you can never lose anyone. You are attached to them.

A: What makes you think that?

S: Over the past three years, with the brutal treatment that I received from those that I loved, when you suddenly snap apart and there is nothing any more, when before you thought you would have them forever… You need to hold hands to stop that happening. You need to be attached to someone.

A: Isn’t attachment just connection?

S: Attachment conveys more of an idea of sticking together.

A: How about this for an objection? When you hold hands, you don’t just hold hands. You also caress the hand and the fingers.

S: And how about this for a reply? When you caress, you are looking at more places to attach yourself to, to connect to, to love.

A: Well, I hope for you, you find many places to love.

S: What is this journey in life but finding those many places to love? And then loving in those places?

fear (microfiction)

16.11.2025

S: You are asking me if I feel fear?

A: Yes.

S: Never in a fight.

A: Which means that you do feel fear. When you are not in a fight.

S: The conscious mind you can control. Not the unconscious.

A: What do you mean?

S: The nightmares. The fears that your conscious mind cannot acknowledge.

A: And? Anything else?

S: There is one fear that everyone has. You cannot escape it.

A: And what is that?

S: That the ones you love will die. That they will leave you all alone in this world. You will have to look upon the ugliness of their corpses. Naked death dancing through the world in all of her obscenity.

A: Why obscenity? Death is natural. Some think death is peace. Liberation from this unliveable world that the living have made within it. Accept death.

S: In the film ‘Sholay’, Thakkur comes back to his home. There is silence outside the station. Along the floor, there are bodies strewn about, covered in white sheets. Nobody says anything. He walks and lifts the covered sheets from the bodies. He looks death in the face. It is the entirety of his family. The last one, it is the body of his beloved grandson. The death of the innocent. The children…

A: Why are you talking about this scene?

S: Because the face of Thakkur when he sees the body of his grandson haunts me. It is full of grief. But more so than grief, with rage.

A: Why are you haunted?

S: Because this is what we look at as Indians. This is what we look at in this generation. They are killing our Indian children. The villain that kills Thakkur’s family is Gabbar, who stands for arrogance, (which is what his name means), selfishness and greed. They are killing us and ours with Gabbar’s qualities. I am watching six thousand years of Indian civilisation being ended in just one generation with greed, selfishness and arrogance. I am staring at death with rage, like Thakkur. The family is what makes us us. I am looking at the death of the family.

A: They live.

S: They are corpses that have motion. And to look upon them is to grieve India. Thakkur’s grief is the story of ‘Sholay’ and us all. Because Thakkur has seen what we all fear.

the conditions of writing (microfiction)

15.11.2025

S: The conditions of writing are always changing.

A: Why?

S: Because the readers are always changing.

A: But does the mission not remain the same? To leave a witness to the life that is experienced?

S: What do we write for? Is it not love? Do we not write for love?

A: Perhaps you do. Many write for hate. And they are the ones that are read.

S: To hate hate and to love love, that should be the way.

A: People do not love love. They hate love. And they love hate. You wonder why they love hate so much.

S: Because it is much easier in this world to hate than to love. Love is what is difficult. Almost impossible.

A: Some love easily.

S: Is that real love? Surely real love is difficult. But to get back to the earlier point. The conditions of writing have changed. The grief is over.

A: Really?

S: If not over, then buried away.

A: What did you grieve?

S: Love itself. I jumped into her coffin. I danced with her corpse held in my hands.

A: It sounds excessive.

S: It was justified. And necessary.

A: Nothing is necessary.

S: You are mistaken. You forget the ardour and the passion of The Tiger.

A: If the conditions of writing have changed, follow the conditions. Follow the reader.

S: I follow her alright. And I also walk alongside her with her hand in mine. To connect and to make love, you take a journey together through words. The words are lights in the darkness that point the way.

the machine (microfiction)

14.11.2025

S: How do you build the perfect warrior?

A: Haven’t you seen those action films? You inject them with a serum. Or you give them a bionic body.

S: It is not the body. It is the mind.

A: How so?

S: The perfect warrior is one that has anger. He is a berserker on the battlefield. Anger gives you strength and valor.

A: Surely anger makes you make mistakes?

S: You can get away with many mistakes in a fight. The other thing you need is loyalty. Loyalty to the cause.

A: Undying and unthinking loyalty?

S: Not unthinking. And undying except in special cases. There are many such qualities. The most important one is love.

A: I knew you would say that.

S: It is a complete misunderstanding of war and love to say that ‘I am a lover and not a fighter.’ In fact, the lover can only be a fighter.

A: We have heard this before.

S: The perfect warrior can only fight for love. The perfect warrior can die for love.

A: What if there is no love in this warrior’s life?

S: You need motivation in life. You rush home to talk to someone. You rush to where you are going to see someone. It is love that gives energy. Freud said love and work. That is what makes a life.

A: And the body?

S: India made a machine. The machine came from the farmers and the serfs. Full of natural muscle. With an insane stamina. A body that can do a hundred hours of work a week for over twenty years. A natural athlete. Strength personified. But the body? It is nothing without that iron will, the indomitable spirit and the audacious, powerful brain…

A: Who do you talk of?

S: The one that scares the cowards. The one that bows his head to The Mother. The one that is the boast of Punjab…

A: The Tiger…

Traversing the Universe

14.11.2025

S: There is a story about Ganesha’s wisdom. Would you hear it?
A: Tell.
S: Memory will have to serve. Storytelling like in the old days, with its flaws and imperfections, with its improvised nature. The retelling of the stories.
A: Save the preamble. It is me.
S: There is a conflict between the sons of the Mother Goddess. The brothers agree to traverse the universe to settle the point. The one without knowledge, he whips his way all around everywhere in feverish haste. With no thought and awareness.
A: And Ganesha?
S: I have piqued your interest, I see. Ganesha with the elephant’s wise head, he makes the circuit around the forms of the god and the Mother Goddess. This is the universe entire. And more.
A: I hear the capital in the Mother. Why never in the man?
S: She is power. I am her son and her lover. I am God myself.
A: I know what will come next. The interpretation.
S: When my grandfather would tell me the stories, he would ask me at the end what it meant. Every time I interpret something, it is the demand from my grandfather. The desire to fulfill the learning.
A: Go then.
S: The hothead, he does not know where his feet are at. But Ganesha? He knows his own origin. The Mother Goddess, she made him from the dead skin of her body that she rubbed off from her bath. His elephant’s head? It came from his father, Shiva. It is the origin that determines our journeys around the universe.
A: And what else?
S: Standing before him is the body of the Mother Goddess, radiant in its beauty. Remember, this is the idol of India, imbued with sexual passion and which arouses the desire of the son-lover, the bhakti. It is her body that stands at the center of creation. You spend your whole life circling around it to finally find your destination. The body of the Mother, that is fate. That is destiny.
A: You can never be free of the Mother?
S: Would you want to be? Without the Mother there is nothing. The non-universe. The human universe, the Indian universe, this is the Mother. She is Power. She is Love. She is Form. She is the centre and she is the periphery. She is the Inside and the Outside. Who can know her love but her son? This is wisdom.

the kardashian factor (microfiction)

13.11.2025

S: Writing really is a loser’s game.

A: Why do you say so?

S: What do you actually get from it?

A: Satisfaction. That you have completed the craft. Expression of the self.

S: You cannot eat those. They do not assuage your hunger.

A: You are touching other people and their minds and hearts.

S: Some hate. With absolute viciousness. They choose not to understand. How many do you think read what I write? How many do you think understand The Tiger?

A: What brings on this negativity? You are complete negativity. How do you do anything with this negativity?

S: I read an headline about Kim Kardashian. That she has a five billion pound business.

A: So what?

S: Here I am, having slogged away at writing for about twenty years or so. And I am still writing for free or for peanuts.

A: You are the one that chose to be socially responsible and to talk about serious issues. You could have written fluff to make money. They would have rewarded you for that.

S: Christ knew. The choice is between Mammon and god.

A: You are not religious. Even now, you could sell your pen. You would do well in whatever you wrote. You have the styles.

S: Sell myself? To the highest bidder? Impossible.

A: Well then, do not compare yourself to Kardashian. You do not have to have any message to be successful financially. In fact, they prefer you not to have any message to be successful.

S: Be content with nothing. That is this society all over. Be content with nothing. When the ones that have and get, you look at their contribution and what is even there? Out of nothing, they have made billions.

A: People want to be her. They do not want to be you. That is the secret of success. In fact, you are actually better looking than her and your life is actually full of more interest. But the problem is that Indian culture does not sell. It is not big in the public imagination. And you? You have dared to be different. You have done this to yourself. You should have tried to fit in.

S: I can’t fit into this. What this is, nobody should try to fit into it.

A: Yet they do. And therefore, you lose.

S: That, we will see. It depends on what you think winning means.

fighting fate (microfiction)

12.11.2025

S: Today I was in haste to get somewhere with someone. But when I arrived at the line, everything was down. There were people swearing down their phones, people with anger and annoyance on their faces, people rushing off in a huff…

A: Sounds hellish.

S: It was. All because one or two trespassers had come on the line. So they shut down all the services. One train was cancelled. One train had a failure to launch… I had to leave it. I had to cancel my plans. All there was was frustration.

A: And what were you thinking about that?

S: In life, there is always some kind of obstruction. It might not happen to you. It probably doesn’t happen to other people. But it does happen to me. Over and over again. I can never win.

A: Reason?

S: You could call it bad luck. You could call it fate.

A: And what happens when the lightning of bad luck strikes at your head?

S: It shows you that you can never plan anything in life. Because something will come in the way to disrupt all your plans. It shows you that every time you try to arrange happiness in life, all that comes is sadness and frustration. Desires are never met. Wishes remain unfulfilled. The bad luck…

A: Give me an example.

S: Just before Covid, I got this wonderful opportunity. I got trained up for it. Then? Covid and it got shut down.

A: Another one? Maybe that was just an exception.

S: At my Cambridge interview, I passed it and I got pooled. They didn’t contact me again. I passed a prestigious job interview after graduation where over one thousand people had applied for that post. They pooled me, they reserved me in first place. They didn’t contact me again. They pooled me for the PGCE when I passed the interview for a funded place. They didn’t contact me again. Even during my PhD, they pooled me for working in a prestigious art gallery. I passed all these interviews.

A: Bad luck or racism?

S: Both. It is the same with everything. I won’t go into my personal life. This is what I am up against. The curse. How they keep us down. Just one other person will destroy your life. You wonder why I am negative. What they did to me was absolutely appalling.

if death came (microfiction)

11.11.2025

A: You do not want to die.

S: There is a Hindi song. You have the desire to live. You have the wish for death. Everyone wants to die. No one wants to die. While I live, I eat healthy food, exercise and look after myself. I haven’t lost my discipline. And discipline is oriented towards long life. Yet in the moment of sadness and separation, we stare longingly at death. Our mouths water…

A: That’s enough of that. But if you did die, what then?

S: Who would care?

A: Irrespective of that, what about your ideas?

S: I notice the things that no one notices. They have lain there for over a hundred years. Maybe somebody would notice. Maybe there would be one that comes that could be as wise as me.

A: And what if it is just you? Only you that can see these things? Why have they lain dormant a hundred years or more until you have come?

S: You do not believe me when I say I am a genius. Someone like me only comes once every hundred or two hundred years. Do you know how much I have studied? I haven’t just studied the three undergraduate degrees. I have done university courses in every subject in the humanities. On top of that, I have the natural cunning of a Punjabi villager. I see. Probably, if I die, what I have discovered will remain undiscovered forever.

A: If you really are that important, if you really are a genius, why then do you not work and work and work? And write and write and write?

S: For these people? For these fucking people? You cannot be serious. They would starve me. They would put me in the corner and turn their backs to me. They have made life hard, a life of suffering. Work for them? Them? With their pettiness and frivolity? Their lack of any kind of understanding? The lack of any kind of meritocracy or value?

A: Do not become Achilles. He was the greatest. Yet he would not fight if he was not awarded the spoils.

S: I am ego. Ego must be fed. The Tiger is hungry, ravenous. For what is his. But I will give what I give when the time is ripe. I will not kill myself for it. For these people? No. For my people. For the Revolution.