craftist, library assistant, house husband. originally from shillong in north east india, now based in auckland, aotearoa new zealand.
By baruk on January 29, 2013
Back there, the dishes routine was Scrape->Soap->Rinse->Dry. Here its is Scrape->Rinse->Soap->Dry. 3 years now, and I don’t get it. Does every person need their (possible) racial identity as a descriptor? It is not “The silly woman cut me off”, it is “The silly Pacific woman cut me off”. It is not “The nice man […]
By baruk on October 30, 2012
contsructivate, won’t you? celebratronic with muchness. for the sun, the sun she is outside of her hiding and the rain is dancing with an elsewhere and later there will be a coming backtion, and more celebratonic but for now it is the sun, the sun, it is she.
By baruk on October 20, 2012
i think of apu every time I sharpen our knives. these hands could be his hands, holding the stone cupping the water testing the blade. chemtatrawta chuan chem a tat rawt rawt ah but they aren’t: these hands are flabby and soft and haven’t killed in 13 years. here the chicken are slaughtered by specialists, […]
By baruk on October 9, 2012
“Since a Gothic cathedral is the house of God, light is visible proof that the divine is present. Streaming through beautiful stained-glass images, this light conveys the glory of Heaven as the jewelled city. Aquinas… emphasised light, using the term claritas, which denotes internal brightness and design… A cathedral… should manifest claritas.” (p. 26 Art […]
By baruk on October 5, 2012
near kochi in kerala is a place called tripunithura. not far from the town is a palace on a hill. on that hill is a park, and in that park is a large pink(?) dinosaur that looks like a t-rex. babu chetan took me there. this is a picture of the middle toe on its […]
By baruk on September 23, 2012
there’s a song, sometimes, in the places that we aren’t; there’s a scream there’s a sigh there’s a smile. there’s the earth, sometimes in the places that we aren’t; there’s the sky there’s the wind there’s the tide. in the places that we aren’t, you and i.
By baruk on September 20, 2012
there is a darkness in these shelves, rising from the stardust and skin of other peoples’ memories. our memories are buried with the ancient dead and grow as the hawi-lo-par: flowers of forgetting or remembering which? i don’t recall. — on the way to mithi khua (land of the dead), the mizo dead went through […]
By baruk on September 2, 2012
In 1886 when on a visit of the village of one of the leading chiefs, I was standing talking with him in the path that ran through the village. While we were thus standing, a drunken Lushai came stumbling along, and finding us somewhat on the way, he seized the chief by the neck and […]
By baruk on September 1, 2012
come on spring you ugly bastard wake up shake off winter’s sodden hangover and rise to meet the summer’s sun-bloodied sky there’s fishing to be done and getting lost in the hills and aotea square waits for this year’s occupation while in the beds of rulers the mighty fucktards sleep the spring will wake come […]