Tharin Pillay

Three Poems from October

As part of my ongoing efforts to ‘kill the part of me that cringes’, rather than the part that is cringe, and to not let the perfect defeat the good, here are three poems I wrote in October. 1.  It’s cold and I miss you. Amidst my den of abstractions – warrens made narrow with …

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I can still write

I can still write, you know. I can write like anything. I can squeeze linearity from my looping mind like juice from an orange. I lay down a trail – drop by drop – for people to follow, and usually they do. I write like I swim – without thought or hesitation, and with patience, …

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Everyone Is An Imposter

I. I am generally considered to be a pretty smart guy. Now to say this directly is to invite doubt and disaster. I know that. I feel it deep in my bones. It’s been drilled into me that, outside of certain domains (like rap and sports), it’s impolite to talk directly about one’s abilities. But …

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Istanbul By The Horns 

When I think back on the five nights I recently spent on holiday in Istanbul, I think of words like “dense”, “sprawling”, and “kebap”. I think of steep cobbled streets and unclean air. I think about what a privilege it was to be able to travel again (or at all). Before the wonder of the …

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