No Fruit Dies So Vile And Offensive

You Lived Intensely With Others, Only To Have Them Disappear Overnight, Since The Shadow Class Was Condemned To Movement. The Men Left For Other Jobs, Towns, Got Deported, Returned Home, Changed Names. Sometimes Someone Came Popping Around A Corner Again, Or On The Subway Then They Vanished Again. Addresses, Phone Numbers Did Not Hold. The Emptiness Biju Felt Returned To Him Over And Over, Until Eventually He Made Sure Not To Let Friendships Sink Deep Anymore.

The Indian Diaspora Is A Wonderful Place To Write From And I Am Lucky To Be Part Of It.

I Don't Think You Can Write According To A Set Of Rules And Laws; Every Writer Is So Different.

I Love Truman Capote, Tennessee Williams, Flannery O'connor. I Read A Lot Of American Writers.

When You Write On Your Own, You Can Write The Extremes. No One Else Is Watching And You Can Really Go As Far As You Need To.