One Grain Amongst the Storm

In Pursuit of Oz: Along the Great Ocean Road

umashankar — Wed, 17 Jun 2026 11:37:36 +0000

Armed with a 7-Eleven umbrella, she soon discovered that the local winds regarded umbrellas as little more than suggestions. After a brief but unequal struggle, the contraption inverted itself with remarkable efficiency, possibly as a precaution against its owner being carried off like a reluctant paratrooper.

In Pursuit of Oz: The Spirits of Melbourne

umashankar — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 12:06:24 +0000

I had watched Spider-Man swing between skyscrapers often enough. I had simply never expected to audition for the role myself.

In Pursuit of Oz: Temporary Melburnians

umashankar — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 14:44:05 +0000

Crossing the road from Flinders Street, we stepped into Federation Square. It is arguably Melbourne’s principal public space and, quite possibly, a declaration of war against the straight line. If Flinders Street Station belongs to the age of clocks, domes, and punctual railway ambitions, Federation Square appears to have been designed by a committee of highly gifted triangles.

In Pursuit of Oz: The Hong Kong Surprise

umashankar — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 04:54:23 +0000

The young woman attempted an explanation in English. Unfortunately, the circumstances required a language altogether different. The more she explained, the less I understood, and the less I understood, the more elaborate my objections became.

Catch-24 X 7

umashankar — Sun, 12 Jan 2025 10:21:38 +0000

This profound leadership oracle deserves its own place in the pantheon of corporate absurdities. It’s the kind of rhetorical flourish that leaves employees speechless, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or double-check their marriage certificates.

Virus and Void

umashankar — Sat, 15 Jan 2022 10:07:51 +0000

From virus to virusI have kept my date with not dying,tossing and turning in sheets,cough syrups and repurposed antibiotics.Inside me, the pathogen worms,outside me, the pathogen storms,in the middle of it all: a spent spring. Intervals of time don’t matter,intervals…

The Forgotten Barbecue

umashankar — Sun, 31 Jan 2021 04:53:42 +0000

It has come upon meonce more, this month ofinquisitions, the rat raceto the roads I never thoughtI’d take. Behind me and beyondthe misty miles, lie themuch-dreamt meadowsthat will never be my home now. They beckon me yet againlike the foliage…

From the Diary of a Covid Positive Fugitive

umashankar — Fri, 06 Nov 2020 08:29:15 +0000

It was on the Saturday the 24th of October, 2020, with the three days’ holiday in its infancy, that I dozed off with a mild ache pulsing through my meagre frame, right after the morning bout of toast and ginger-chai.…

This Drop Come Home

umashankar — Sun, 11 Oct 2020 14:29:44 +0000

This drop on the sill, a distant cloud come home on wings of heaviness, or grief as I know.

Month of August

umashankar — Sat, 15 Aug 2020 19:49:05 +0000

Sullen rain simmers, pretends to slalom yet surrenders,recoils in the clouds of sodden discontent.Arid thoughts smother the sapless stalks of life.It is the month of August, the fat middle ofan unrelenting virus, spinning off the sporesof a shivering November,it’s nowhere…