Author: Rudya
-
Noah’s Art
The paintings gave Noah stomach cramps. He stumbled from one to the next, holding his stomach tightly with one hand, spilling wine out of the glass in the other. All the paintings in the entire gallery were, to put it simply, crap. One after the other: crap after shit after garbage after crap. He wanted…
Written by

-
Boredom and Self-Loathing in The Himalayas
Last month, I went on a holiday. I didn’t want to go but I had to go and that was the first problem. The second problem was that I decided, foolishly, to not take my laptop with me. I wanted to try going without too much internet access for a week, or maximum 10 days,…
Written by

-
The One Where I Get Old
Two suns ago, I, Rudya (by taken name), {Aditya, (which means sun), by given name}, completed 40 revolutions around the sun, since my mother’s son was born on a sunny afternoon. For a couple of moons before this momentous day, I’ve been wondering how I feel about hitting this somewhat scary milestone. And I think…
Written by

-
Banning Words is Counterproductive
If I could permanently ban a word from general usage, it would be the word “ban”, because then no one else will be able to ban any other word. Ban will be banned so you couldn’t ban any other word. “I want to ban so and so word,” you’d say. “You’re under arrest for using…
Written by

-
House Sparrows are Terrorists?
I like sparrows. I think they’re cute. We have a ton of birds around our house and we feed them daily and the tiny sparrows are the most courageous of all. When even the bigger birds are perching at a cautious distance, these little guys don’t hesitate to get close, and as a result get…
Written by

-
Dostoevsky Hangover
Kareena Katroveena scrubbed the floor with all her life-force, the boar bristle brush making swooshing sounds against the wooden boards of the floor, but for the life of her, she couldn’t get rid of the blood stains. It was just one major blood stain really, in the shape of the map of Mother Russia, with…
Written by



