Creative Non-Fiction
Hungry Ancestors
Every year, on the heels of monsoons, when the mountains are freshly washed and our valley is exuberant with green, the ancestors arrive. Even before I open my eyes, my body wakes to my grandmother...
Of Songs, Thresholds, and Slippers – published in the Epistemic Literary. Finalist for the Genrepunk Wildcard Award 2025
A new song sung; nay, belted out by a familiar female voice floods the car as Idrive to the library one morning— Main thaare paon ki jutti na Ke jad jee kare per li utaar di I’m not the slipper on...
“What about Mummy’s saris?” I ask my father after thirty years – published in FlashFlood, June 2024
“Tsk…later, eat these first.” Daddy points to piping hot samosas. ‘Got them specially for you.’ It’s been thirty years. He doesn’t know I’ve turned gluten free. I ask again. “We must’ve given them...
Accoutrements of Hiraeth – published in the Epistemic Literary
Deep winter. Dehradun. I’m five years old. Papaji, my grandfather, is collecting glowing embers of coal from my grandmother’s chullah (earthen stove) in the courtyard. He’s using a pair of old iron...
At Home in My Skin
Born of Punjabi stock, I've inherited the following traits: 1. An innate urge to use made-up, superfluous, and rhyming words. For example, kee laoge—cha, sha, ya paani, shaani? (What would you like?...