Posted in Fiction

key to their prison

After 1, 034 days in the same dingy room (he doesn’t know that she’s kept count) with new scars on their malnourished bodies every other day, hope is hard to come across but they make do with what they can.

They paint the dark room with iridescent recollections of their father’s smile and their mother’s hugs, their dog’s soft fur and their grandmother’s stories. She brightens the lovely nights (what they consider to be nights) with whispered recitations of the poems she learnt in school. They sing their songs under their breaths, dance the dances they hope to never forget. They pray to the gods they never prayed to at home, cross their fingers and knock on wood. The Man took them away from their home but he couldn’t take their home away from them.

One morning or afternoon or evening or night, The Man is in their room, his breath stinking, slurring curses at the both of them. Her brother looks at her from under the table and mutters a curse in their language. It sounds like school bells and jostling each other in the hallways. The Man looks straight at him, his face contorting into something ugly and spits, demanding to know what he said. Her brother looks him in the eye, not backing down and she watches him in dread, opening her mouth to tell him to leave it, they’d regret it. The Man lifts his hand and slaps him hard enough to knock out another tooth. She flinches, standing up, ready to protect him. She steps forward and The Man pushes her on the ground as if she’s weightless. He leers at her, his hand on her knee and her brother punches him. Again and again and again. But The Man is stronger. He kicks and punches and slaps and she tries to stop him, she does but The Man throws her against the wall and she sinks onto the floor, her head throbbing and her body aching.

Eventually The Man stops. He views the damage done: her bloody brother laying sprawled on the floor, she, huddled against the wall and she can see the satisfaction on his face. He’s vile. “I will kill you if you cross me, you hear me?”

They know his language, the language of invaders. Their language is a warm hug, a flap of a bird’s wings, a balloon flying away, a key to their prison, a weapon in this war.

Her brother spits out the blood in his mouth, wincing while sitting up and smiles a gruesome smile, his eyes wild. She looks at him worriedly, concerned. He opens his mouth and softly sings the first few lines of their parents’s wedding song.

The Man stops in his tracks. He turns around. She can see the vein in his forehead bulging. He looks at her brother. She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Posted in Rant

26 days, 6 hours, 18 minutes and 54 seconds

Hey, you guys!

I haven’t posted in ages, ha, my bad. And I wish I had a legitimate post for today to make up for my unplanned hiatus but I do not and instead, let’s sit and have a chat. What is up with you guys? What new things have you done in the past couple of weeks?

I haven’t been Productive with a capital P, but I like to think I got some stuff done. So here’s a sort of life update?

  • I’m trying to start writing longer pieces which has culminated in an effort to try writing a 10,000 word story which I’m only 2.9k words in. Disappointing but it’s the longest I’ve done! Improvement! What’s the longest piece y’all have written? Any tips? I would love some!
  • Downsides however are that I have not in the least been able to write anything other than this story. I am blanking, nil, zilch, zoop.
  • I started going jogging instead of to the gym. The thought of going to the gym alone unnerved me to a terrible extent and anyway, jogging takes less time and it’s more fun! I’m! Being! Fit! Look at me!
  • I started learning Spanish again! I’d dropped it in the middle, God knows why, but I’ve started again and I just love it so much. Yo gusto espagnol. Languages are my jam. Also I really want to start Italian? It’s such a pretty language.
  • Earlier my parents were scared to send me abroad for undergrad for I’d be too young and I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself, the normal parent things BUT now they’ve completely changed their minds because for the field I want to go into i.e., publishing, colleges outside India are much better in terms of quality and opportunities offered. So I’m writing the SATs! I dropped math after 10th so now I have to self-study portions from 11th grade which is hard, but I think I’m managing.
  • I think I found my dream college! Emerson College in Boston offers a BA in Writing, Literature and Publishing which is abso-freaking-lutely perfect! I am actually so excited (about my future?! What?!)! And when I lived in the US, I lived pretty close to Boston so my old friends will be around there! I’M JUST SO FLIPPING EXCITED, I WANT TO GET IN SO BADLY!
  • However, the thought of leaving sort of scares me? New place, new people, making new friends? I want to start over but it’s scary. The thought of not having pani puri and dosa at a walkable distance, my friends, my family. Not having Hindi radio stations, Bollywood films in theatres, my home.
  • Twelfth grade started on the 14th and I’m already stressed out but oh, well. I need to ace this year; it’s the only one that counts.
  • I did good in my finals! 93% in History, hell frikin YEAH!
  • I feel like I’m feeling a little overwhelmed? With college and last year of school and trying to make my life be A-okay, I just need holidays. Speaking of which, I’m going to my grandparents’! And then to camp! Which will be fun hopefully!
  • Guys, I am addicted to Dynasty. It’s the best show ever, I binged its 17 episodes in three days, I think it was. I absolutely love it, I recommend.

I love you guys and I can’t wait for my selective writer’s block to leave xx

Posted in Poetry


There’s a big part

Of my heart that’s

Reserved for the

Woman who

Birthed me.


She’s the kindest

Person I know and

Sure, she’s always

On the phone but

I wouldn’t have it

Any other way.


She doesn’t think so

But she’s awfully

Smart, she doesn’t

Need to know the

Spelling of ‘mitochondria.’


And maybe I got

My tears from her

But I also got my



My mother’s the kind

Of woman who works

So hard, she doesn’t

Leave anything



She’s my


Pushing me to

Do more with

Myself; I’m

Capable of so

Much more,

She knows.


My mom dreams

Big dreams for me,

Of Harvard and a PhD;

She wants me to do

Better than she did.


She downplays

Everything she’s

Done and puts

Herself down and

I just want to say,

Ma, I’m proud to be

Your daughter, thank

You for everything,

I love you.

Posted in Poetry

greedy for love

i want the kind of love that inspires; that leaves me with an ink stain on my heart and hundred pages of phrases describing our first kiss and our second and third

i want the kind of love that is quiet: a squeeze of hands and a private smile or two

i want the kind of love that makes me feel safe

i want the kind of love that makes my stomach hurt with laughter

i want the kind of love that makes me happier than i’ve never been before

i want the kind of love that is soft; cuddles at night and forehead kisses

i want the kind of love that holds me up when i need help and offers me their back to climb up on when my feet hurt

i want the kind of love that makes someone believe

i want the kind of love that makes me notice the tiny things, making them all the more meaningful

i want the kind of love that fills me up with so many words that when i’m penning them down, my handwriting looks like abstract art because i can’t keep up

i want the kind of love that surprises me at every turn in the best way

i want the kind of love that’s new

i want the kind of love that i know i’m not worthy of but makes me want to fight to earn it

i want the kind of love that makes everything more 

i want the kind of love

i want the kind

i want

Posted in Open When...

…it feels like your body doesn’t fit

You are beautiful.

You. Are. Beautiful.

And I need you to understand this and know this.

Every single cell in your body is a gift to the universe, you are a gift to the universe.

You’re stuck with your thighs, your hands, your eyes, your cheeks for the rest of your life. And hey, I get it, your feet are too small, your stomach is far too out, your skin is too oily, trust me, I’ve been there. Screw that though.

Your eyes are beautiful, your smile lights up the room, your hands make magic on the piano keys, your feet dance up a storm on stage.

For every flaw you find, I can find ten perfections and if I can do it, so can you.

Your body is sticking with you your whole life, whether you like it or not. Might as well figure out a way to actually be proud of the body you’re in.

Say it with me: I love how I look.



Posted in Rant

40 days of 2018

Hey guys! I feel like I just want to sit and talk to you guys today. How y’all doing? How’s your year been so far? I think mine’s been pretty good. I feel like 2018 might turn out to be an amazing year, touch wood.

In the past forty days (forty days seems like so less), quite a bit has happened.

  • I tried my hand at book reviewing with John Green’s recent release, Turtles All The Way Down! I read book bloggers all the time and book reviewing’s always seemed so interesting and on top of that, N had said book reviewing is a good practice for aspiring editors. Check it out and please tell me what you guys thought of it! Have you guys read the book? How’d you like it?
  • I volunteered at the Times Litfest here in Bangalore! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN, I WISH I COULD GO BACK. I ran around so much escorting speakers from here to there and GUESS WHAT GUYS.
  • I MET RUPI KAUR!! WHOOOP! Okay, wait I’ll admit I didn’t buy her books earlier ’cause of all the hype but when I met her and she shook my hand and said my name and said it was nice to meet me, I made up my mind to go buy it. Also, gUYS, she PUT ME ON HER INSTAGRAM STORY! I was freaking out so hard with Mk, oml. SHE SIGNED MY BOOK AND SAID GIRLS LIKE ME ARE THE REASON SHE WRITES AND I HAVE A PICTURE WITH HER and can I just say her session was beautiful. I think I’m in love with her as is apparent.
  • We’re supposed to put up the graduation for the twelfth graders and while I know that no matter what we do they’ll hate it, I just feel so bad because we’ve barely done shit and it’s going to suck so bad? I’m sorry guys. (I’m just having fun dancing.)
  • I’m trying to get more organised which is a work in progress. I made a bullet journal! It’s not Tumblresque but oh well, I like it. I’ve started using goodreads to keep track of what I’m reading and what I want to. Add me, guys! (I really thought I was above shameless self-promo, tsk.)(But add me!)
  • I’m ten percent into my yearly reading goal! I feel like that’s sort of disappointing but oh well.
  • Troye Sivan released AMAZING songs and I can’t wait for his album oml
  • I didn’t do the best in my UTs which was disappointing and my finals are coming up and I! Hope! To! Do! Well!
  • I haven’t been writing everyday which isn’t good but that’s not been the case in February so far so fingers crossed!
  • I’ve been watching a lot more cricket nowadays, I don’t exactly know why but it’s hella interesting. Virat Kohli, guys.
  • I went to the GYM! And yes, I know I scoff whenever my friend tells me he’s going to the gym but I am trying to be fit, look at me, character DEVELOPMENT. I’m proud of me (though I haven’t gone running or gymming these past few days.)
  • I kind of want to tell my crush I like him but I’m not even sure I like him and I feel like me telling him will be lying. Hence, NOW I have to figure out my feelings which is a whole other mess and so much work.
  • I think I’ve been talking to more people which I really like, I’ve gotten closer to the New Kids (who joined this year) and it turns out, they’re pretty frikin’ amazing to be around.
  • #CutToxicPeople2k18 (Though it happened in December, I’ve started to see just how good of a decision it was, however hard and complicated it might’ve been.)
  • I’m going for camp in May! It’s ten days without phones and WiFi in a different state and I’m really excited! It’s going to be so mucH FUN!
  • Today one of my friends told me that I’ve become a really nice and better person this year and that I used to be a bitch till tenth which I wholeheartedly agree with. I was not a good person in 2016. I’m glad that’s changed and that the character development (I’m sorry, I just really like saying that.) is apparent.
  • Dare I say it guys, I’m proud of me.

Ah, I love 2018. What about you? Have you developed as a character? Tell me all about it!

Posted in Poetry

and then there was one, one, one

Sometimes you scream

and cry and wail

into the abyss;

All you want is

An acknowledgement,

An echo, I know

Someone’s there

For me, you’re

Met with deafening


Helplessness drips

From your lips,

Loneliness rolls

Down your cheek,

But somehow

From somewhere

Something ebullient

Makes its way

Up your throat. It

Forces your mouth open,

Wipes away all traces

Of anything that isn’t

effusive, hopeful, loving

Or rhapsodic.

(They call it hope.)

An echo of the smile

From five nights ago

Makes its way

Onto your face, your eyes

They twinkle and

Sirius holds nothing

Against you. You retrace

Your steps, repeat

Your idiomatic words,

Sway to the music

You were listening to

Last night, maybe

No one will be there

But you can be your

Own echo.

Own echo.




Posted in Rant

When I Grow Up

Hey guys! This post’s going to be a little different than my usual poems and whatnot; it’s going to be about my future. Okay, and yes, I know, I’m terrified of the future and the unknown and change and yadi ya, I have CHANGED. I am a new PERSON, look out 2018.

If you guys don’t already know, I want to go into editing when I grow up, essentially, publishing. I want to edit novels and maybe, just maybe, publish one, BUT we’ll get back to that later. Now, my dad’s friend’s wife, let’s call her N, is in editing. She edits financial reports and she used to be in journalism till a few years ago. She has friends in publishing and she knows how to start off, what to do, etc and can mentor? me?

I had to send her a couple poems and stories of mine so she’d know what exactly she was dealing with and she liked them! And yeah, I know I can write better than some and my friends and all do tell me I’m so good at writing blah blah, but they’re my friends! And as much as they say they’re being honest and unbiased, there’s got to be some there and it just felt so GOOD because she’s a professional editor and a professional editor liked my work and a professional editor thought I should publish/submit it! I nearly fainted and fell off my chair, guys.

I’d been talking to her through email and WhatsApp for almost a month(?), when she asked if we could meet up which I obviously agreed to. And so on Sunday, with my handy notebook and a pen, I set on towards B-block, which is very far from my block, by the way, I must say. I was extremely nervous though I’m not entirely sure why now.

So, we talked. It was good, it was informative, I! Actually! Have! A! Chance! Of! Becoming! An! Editor! I’m going to apply to the same college that N went to, which is one of the best colleges for English in Bangalore. She said taking communicative English is better than journalism because the latter only focuses on reporting. She said to be aware of the fact that editing entails of some sales as well: is the book going to sell? Which audience are we looking at? Is this a relevant story line people want to pay to read? She told me to get into writing book reviews on Goodreads to help develop a critical point of view and practice and talked about style guides and about how most publishers use the ‘Chicago Manual of Style,’ which I should slowly start making myself familiar with. She said to start reading magazines like ‘The Economist,’ however boring I might find it for the language is amazing. She suggested a membership at the British Council Library where many events take place and gave me a couple of books to read(this, this and this). She said reading’s obviously extremely important and it helps to keep track of those books winning major prizes. She said going to Mumbai is better for exposure ’cause the people are different and the opportunities are better and more diverse. She specifically said not to Google anything when you’re writing because you might (un)intentionally plagiarize which is never a wanted circumstance.  She said I should start submitting my poems(!!!) but my stories still need some work, which I agreed with wholeheartedly. She also didn’t fail to mention that I was still young and if what I think I want to do changes after college, it’s completely okay and normal, which is a relief to hear, I tell you (even though my mom told me the same thing a couple months ago).

We agreed to meet up regularly, keep in touch and she said she’ll come with me for events if I want. She also said she’ll find out about competitions to submit my poems!

It was overall just really nice talking to someone who knows what they’re talking about and it was so INTERESTING, I’m actually excited! Woah, me being excited about the future; can I say, CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?

Anyway, I hope this weird rant thing helps someone at little! If anyone wants to talk more about this, email me at (Yes, with three ‘l’s, it was a TYPO). See you soon!

Ebe x 

Posted in Things I Loved Reading/Listening To

6 Ways you can Live your Life This Year

I can’t tell you guys how much I love this ❤

The Girl with Ironwings


Just this once, quit the loads of resolutions. Fix your mind with one little thing: Live your life and try your best.

Nothing else matters, see? You may have one hundred issues of anxiety, depression, fears, doubts, paranoia etc. But, they don’t get to decide your life. You do. 

It’s YOUR life, and something only you can control. Feelspretty great, eh? That’s how you’ve always been. Pretty great. Don’t let the grey world stop you from shining bright.

So this time, don’t force rules on yourself. They’re not going to work in the long run. So this 2018, the focus is going to be on you. 

I’m not going to tell you how to live. I’m not perfect and neither are you. So here are 6 pointers to keep in mind while we live through this year. 

Because in the roar of unfathomable turns that life takes, there are…

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