Walking into a dream It came on many nights like a scene from a Kafka novel. There was the vision of a cement grill above a doorway. It seemed to hold back a dark spirit. wanting to be liberated . IWas there a talisman there? I dare not look there for who knows what lurked in the kitchen and beyond The dreamer always froze with fear and awoke. It was the ancestral home of my father in Edayar street, Coimbatore. The other desire was latent but deeply embedded in the sub consciousness and made its presence felt during my waking moments I wanted to walk the street of the East Lokamanya Street in RS Puram , the home of my mother. The old walls,painted yellow the green windows with four doors were clearly visible. The musty smelling attic where coconuts were stored and a large hall with a valve radio, of the 1960s, playing Tamil film songs from Radio Ceylon. The pink bougainvillea in the front compound and the Kolam drawn by my grandmother just ou...
The joys and pains of living in the US of A and anywhere else on earth.