The anatomy of a happy family
Pulitzer likes the rubble better than Paradise
On six days out of ten, it does feel like home
Half of my dreams are soap bubble fallacies
Paper swans out of your discarded suicide notes by Swati Barik
Love faces language barriers
My parents don’t sleep in the same bed
Re-dying in 4 steps (when the depression relapses)
Baba always said he wanted a son because—”Sons lit the pyres”
We are a generation of displaced anger and 140 characters.
My mother is one-fourth the woman she could be three-fourths the woman she had to be
We believe and believe and then believe some more till our faith becomes a series of arithmetic prog
The universe needs me to be a bad daughter on a few days
Never fall in love with a writer
A love letter written by my right hand for my left
I hope your next lover looks more like disaster-management lessons and mine, less like a catastrophe
My therapist tells me to practice spelling out S-T-O-P I-T everyday, the words that I should have y
Self belief is a rollercoaster ride and i was born with motion sickness
At 15, you realize you live in a country where kissing another boy is illegal and you realise you we
The aftermath of an Indian suicide
