A Life Is Not Balanced by Karthick SaravananThe Weight of What Remains
There is a specific silence that lives in the places we have discarded. It is not the silence of peace, but the silence of things that were once held, once useful, once loved, and then suddenly rendered obsolete. I remember the blue ceramic…
Sunlit Shadows by Karthick SaravananThe Architecture of Absence
The wall remembers the sun. It does not speak of the heat, only of the shape it leaves behind.
We build structures to hold our lives. We stack stone upon stone, hoping to keep the wind out, hoping to keep ourselves in. But the light…
The Velocity of Being Small
When I was seven, my sister and I discovered that if we ran fast enough through the tall grass behind our house, the world behind us seemed to vanish entirely. We were not running toward anything in particular; we were simply testing the speed…