The Yawp

“i sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world”

  • Incandescence

    Once upon a time, 

    Mama said, there lived fairies in golden forests,

    Between dappled sunlight

    And glittering ribbons of water. 

    They died out one by one,

    Taken over by fluorescent strands,

    Eaten away by neon maggots,

    Killed by lack of gold.

    But Mama finds a few still,

    In the sea of stars by the lake,

    In the bedside lamp at 11 p.m., 

    In the sun-dust swept in by the open window.

    Fairies with their wings of pink and blue and purple,

    Under the kitchen light, 

    Floating atop waves at dusk,

    Sliding down baby green leaves. 

    Mama says fairies still exist, 

    Frozen in time, 

    And in place,

    Incandescent, incandescent, incandescent. 

  • Urban Shadows

    Urban shadows, 

    In the slanted sun from glass windows.

    Helios’ chariot spraying gold of blinding beams,

    settling into a slumber when Artemis’ moon casts pools of white under stop signs.

    Urban shadows,

    In my sister’s voices, while they are pelted with tear gas. 

    There is War in their blood-

    the spirit of Nike and her spear. 

    Silent gaps and sickly verdant stairwells, 

    Pluto weaves through threads of smoke. 

    And by his side, Persephone, 

    In red robes, holding out fruit for those with cardboard houses.

    Urban shadows, 

    On metro seats, and dark trees in the park.

    In quick footsteps, Hermes lies,

    elevator spotlights and puddles sent flying by tires. 

    Urban shadows,

    as Patroclus watches another train leave a loved one.

    Eroded hearts, and deathly cold handholds;

    Scenery moving away from home. 

    City nymphs looking out windows smudged by mist, 

    Satyrs dancing to Bacchus’ melody in run-down pubs.

    Demeter’s essence in small balconies of petunias and bougainvillea, 

    And three-day old fruits, sold around the corner.


    Urban shadows exist, 

    In the places that classics once filled,

    The old gods are breathing life into every chasm-

    The old gods are not dead.

  • Clementine

    Peaches and clementines sitting in boxes, 

    At the shop on the corner, 

    Where the old man sits, 

    Spitting orange seeds at his feet. 

    In a small sleepy town,

    People come and go by him. 

    There are lemons and cherries,

    Apricots and plums and wine-tinted grapes.

    He sells from his seat made of cartons, 

    With coins of clementine and sugar-blue, 

    In strings of pearls wound around blackberries,

    And blood-orange hues of grapefruit.

    I bought an orange of his at lunch,

    We can share it-

    Half and half-

    This citrus nectar of clementine coins. 

  • The Picture of Dorian Gray

    The Picture of Dorian Gray

    ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ by Oscar Wilde details the life of young and hedonistic Dorian Gray and his exploits in nineteenth-century London. Regarded as a classic in ‘dark academia literature’, it is brimming with Wilde’s witticism, characterisation and observations of society (Wilde’s verbose descriptions and excessive commas are also practiced in abundance in this book). 

    The story opens with a conversation between Dorian and Lord Henry Wotton after they view Basil Hallward’s masterpiece portrait of Dorian, his muse. Influenced by Lord Henry’s provocative opinions on the transience of youth, Dorian wishes for eternal youth as his portrait ages in his place. From that point onwards, the portrait serves as a reflection of his moral decay and the story follows Dorian’s unrestrained pursuits of pleasure.

    The book explores the darker aspects of human nature and is a poignant study of aestheticism. The painting reflects all of Dorian’s, and humanity’s, cruelest qualities- greed, arrogance, hypocrisy and overindulgence. The book embodies the theme of art as an imitation of life as the portrait of Dorian Gray is the central figure. The most important theme that Wilde narrates in the story is the impermanence of youth and beauty. Dorian’s hedonistic lifestyle is influenced by a conversation with Lord Henry about how he would not stay young forever and must make the most of it. Lord Henry continues to excuse every one of Dorian’s actions as romantic expression and encourages him to succumb to all his temptations.

    Wilde, in his usual style, has stressed heavily on the characters and their dialogue. Lord Henry is scandalous and cynical and enjoys his reputation of being self-indulgent. With his clever words reeking of countless moral questions, Lord Henry influences impressionable Dorian into following his vices and desires, however disreputable. Dorian Gray becomes Lord Henry’s vessel of imparted hedonism- where Lord Henry observes the philosophy, Dorian lives it out to its extreme.

    In contrast to both Dorian and Lord Henry, Basil Hallward is meek. Though a lover of beauty as an artist, his idea of aestheticism is principled by morality. He warns Dorian of the effects of lawless decadence. However, his advice falls on deaf ears as Dorian has already been exposed to the enticing world of vice without consequence. Basil realises too late that Dorian is beyond his help.

    It is no wonder the novel has earned its timeless and ‘indecent’ reputation. Wilde’s sharp description of Dorian’s descent into vanity and self-corruption draws readers in, bewildering them page by page. For all those looking for a pseudo-philosophical read, looking to ponder on our aesthetic existence and seeking Wilde’s melodramatic but sharp writing, this book is a must-read. It discusses morality, the boundaries of desire and debates the aesthetic ideal of art.

  • Lana Del Rey, No- Elizabeth Grant’s New Album

    Lana Del Rey, No- Elizabeth Grant’s New Album

    Originally written in 2023

    Lana Del Rey’s ninth studio album, ‘Did You know That There’s a Tunnel under Ocean Blvd” is messy, overindulgent, and heartbreakingly honest. The album is marked by Del Rey’s most vulnerable questions and rangy vocals. 

    The album is ruminative and features Lana discussing “the very heart of things”. She sings about life, death and what comes after, among vulnerable questions about family, love and healing. “The Grants” (my favourite song), opens the album with backup vocals from Melodye Perry, Pattie Howard and Shikena Jones. The track starts on a gospel-like note and bears Lana’s family name in the title, highlighting the theme of family in this album. She sings about heaven and the transient nature of human life (“My pastor told me/ When you leave all you take/ Oh, is your memory,”). The opening track is a hymn about love and life, and gives a glimpse into the airy and unguarded nature that characterises this particular album. 

    Through her writing, Lana makes this album the most personal one yet. The vocals have a voice-memo like quality to them, as if she is voicing all these thoughts to herself, rather than writing a studio album. Lana exposes her vulnerabilities in songs like “Fingertips”, “A&W” and “Kintsugi”, where she sings about womanhood and motherhood, family and dealing with loss. The album is not characterised by pop vocals or beats that sell. Instead, it feels like an operation of creative abandon, written just for her. 

    In true Lana Del Rey fashion, there are multiple allusions tucked into the tracks of this album. From John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High” to Leonard Cohen’s well-known refrain (“That’s how the light gets in”) in “Kintsugi”, Lana deploys musical allusions artfully. And she is nothing if not a collagist as shown by her sampling of Tommy Genesis’ track “Angelina” in her song, “Peppers”, (she even name-drops the Red Hot Chili Peppers). The album is one of collaboration and features- with jazz singer Jon Batiste singing on “Candy Necklaces”, Lana’s lyrics added over a piano track by indie composer SYML in “Paris, Texas” and songs co-produced with Jack Antonoff.

    What makes this album special for me is how her vocals, lyrics and each of the songs are constantly juxtaposing themselves and each other, making the work chimeric in nature. After the balladic lyrics of “Sweet” (“You can find me where no one will be/In the woods somewhere/In the knife in the heart of a valley”), we are greeted with the shapeshifting “A&W”, where Lana goes from soft and psychedelic vocals to screeching trip-hop beats in a heartbeat. 

    “Ocean Blvd” scratches beneath the surface, with existentialism underlying the entire album (most notably expressed in “Judah Smith Interlude”, where Judah Smith, Lana’s pastor, delivers a sermon to a melancholic piano backing). Lana ventures into numerous creative classes within the one-hour-and-seventeen-minutes of this album. She revisits old albums and personas, cutting up and reintroducing tracks from older songs into this album, as if she is reimagining and resubmitting her legacy for the songbooks.

    This album is about the woman behind Lana Del Rey- Elizabeth Grant- and all the people behind her. It is unhemmed and raw, disregarding perfection and reading like a long letter to oneself. The tragic, nihilistic themes of her previous works have been forgotten in this album- abandoned like the titular tunnel under Ocean Boulevard- and instead, Lana breaks open into earnest admissions wrapped in breathy vocals.  

  • God Exists Between People Homie

    God Exists Between People Homie

    Inspired by Suki Waterhouse’s ‘Coolest Place in the World‘

    God Exists Between People Homie

    Staring at walls in art galleries together,

    Sharing an umbrella,

    Walking side by side and laughing at old stories.

    Mother and daughter walk hand in hand,

    Two people, one park bench, no space between them,

    Friends buying coffee for each other.

    Half an orange for you and half for me,

    Sunlight speckled backs and doing your hair for you,

    Our camera rolls are polaroids of others’ smiles.

    Underlining words in well-loved books for someone else to find,

    Train windows and the glimpses they carry,

    Sitting together, cross legged on the floor.

    Playlists made in your name, one pair of earphones divided,

    Fathers teaching us how to tie our shoelaces,

    Running fast and stopping to catch our breath, collapsing on top of one another.

    Children touching the sky on their swings,

    Sitting on the porch and reading a newspaper,

    Reading bedtime stories to tell someone they are safe.

    Lying on the grass to feel the sun everywhere,

    Through your toes and fingers and in your stomach,

    Bicycle rides with memories of skinned knees, reduced to bruises.

    Humans were bred to love, 

    And love exists in these spaces,

    God exists between people homie.

  • The Fish Seller of Hội An

    The sacred stream in Thanh Hoa ferries the descendants of the blessed water snake to and fro. Simple fishermen of Ham Ninh set out to sea, spilling sheets of colour upon the water from their hand-woven nets. Dawn breaks out on the Mekong River, and the town of Phu Quoc is set into motion as merchants and trawlers set out in basket boats. But fish are only a gateway to the keystone of Vietnam’s folklore- the dragon.

    Vietnamese lore carries the tale of the carp fish, which jumped over three gates of rain and earned its transformation into a dragon- the symbol for yang, success and power. And Hội An, a teeming fishing village where prayer lanterns dot the dark night river, is home of the Dragon. 

    In Hội An’s harmonious town, where land and water embrace as softly as the petals of Hoa Sen flowers open at dawn, the Dragon rides on his sputtering bike with clear bags of fish on his back. The fish, his ancestors, attract wide-eyed schoolchildren and they stare back through the clear plastic with the same large gaze. His bike- red hot rear lights and a grunting engine- travels along the riverside, the Dragon and his fish crossing through the streets where culture means trade and a blend of grand architecture sits squat by the beaming river. 

    The dwellers of Hội An are no strangers to the Dragon or his presence. But to them, in the town built upon the creature’s sanctity, he is known simply as the Fish Seller. 

    _____________________________________________________

    This piece is inspired by a picture I came across on Pinterest- ‘Fish Seller’. On further research, I discovered it was by photographer Jon Enoch as part of his collection called ‘Bikes of Hanoi’ and won the Smithsonian’s annual photo contest in 2020.

  • Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

    Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

    A bank robbery turned hostage drama, at an open house a day before New Year’s, forms the backdrop to Fredrik Backman’s dramedy and one of my favourite books, Anxious People. Riddled with connections that domino into place as the book progresses, the story follows a bank robber who unwittingly attempts to rob a cashless bank and ends up holding eight people at an apartment viewing hostage. The detectives in charge have never faced a situation like this in their small town but would not fathom calling over the big city professionals- the Stockholmers- to diffuse the situation. 

    Those in the apartment, the bank robber, the prospective buyers and their real estate agent, form an eclectic bunch- from demure and stone-faced bank manager, Zara to the jittery soon-to-be parents, Julia and Ro. Mismatched Anna-Lena and Roger, a rabbit, the skittish real estate agent and elderly Estelle are the others forming the hostage group. And all of them are anxious. 

    The story follows the hostage drama, and the hostages, and how our amateur police officers take care of the absurd situation (using a lot of Google to do so). It is bemusingly endearing and Backman does a wonderful job in the characterisation of each individual, as we gradually sympathise and fall in love with the oddness and idiosyncrasies of the ragtag bunch in the apartment. In the book’s same humorous vein, Backman also touches upon life and death, love and divorce, mental illness and parenting and marriage. His observations are poignant and beautifully put, while still keeping the story buoyant and playful. 

    Anxious People and its misfit cast show us the trials that come with the ‘idiotically difficult’ nature of being human. A beautifully written book, Backman writes about our anxieties on life and love while reminding us how deeply connected we all really are. 

  • The Big (Fleetwood) Mac

    The Big (Fleetwood) Mac

    Fleetwood Mac- a name synonymous with a talented, but tragically troubled band, hit albums and even bigger singles. With a name as big as The Beatles and music that shaped the Baby Boomer generation during their formative years, Fleetwood Mac has had an indelible effect on music in the last fifty years. 

    Through their rotating crew of vocalists and guitarists, they’ve come out with knockouts like ‘Dreams’, ‘Landslide’ and ‘The Chain’. To this day, these songs remain significant and continue as a mold for effortless, evergreen music. However, their career was anything but glamorous, punctuated by severed relationships and acute substance abuse. But amidst the personal turmoil of the band, their pièce de résistance, Rumours, was born. 

    Within a month of its release, Rumours sold ten million copies, becoming the band’s most commercially successful record– and, today, has become one of the best-selling albums worldwide. It catapulted them into popularity and fame as a rock and blues band with country overtones. Singles including ‘Go Your Own Way’, ‘Don’t Stop’, ‘Dreams’ and ‘You Make Loving Fun’ became the soundtrack of the late 70s. Fleetwood Mac became a sensation, writing up disco music that introduced West Coast folk dressed as pop-rock, changing the music scene of the time. 

    In many ways, Rumours was a reflection of its time. With a characteristically hippie spirit, the album focuses largely on love and loss, a theme far too prevalent for the members of the band. Mick Fleetwood had just discovered his wife had been cheating on him, Christine and John McVie’s divorce was impending and Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham’s relationship was punctuated by severe fights that were often demonstrated while recording was taking place. Moreover, the members’ substance abuse had escalated to a breaking point and the band’s demise was thus upsetting, but unavoidable. 

    Ironically, Fleetwood Mac made their best music while at their worst. The album struck a chord and stayed with people through the optimism of ‘Don’t Stop’, earthy notes of ‘Gold Dust Woman’ and heartbreakingly sincere lyrics of ‘The Chain’. Ask anyone of the pre-millennial generation and they all have distinct memories of Fleetwood Mac as a cornerstone of music of their time. The band was able to carry genuine emotion through their lyrics and folksy tunes, hitting the pop sweet spot over and over. 

    While we have an array of pop music at our fingertips today, the timeless nature of Fleetwood Mac and their sound is incomparable. Through cultural osmosis, their music has passed down through generations and still holds the same influence as it did in 1977. Their influence in modern indie music is impossible not to notice and it’s for this reason that Fleetwood Mac will always be a culturally significant aspect of music history. 

  • Tea Time

    August, late afternoon, 1959.

    The house sleeps. Its floors are damp with the sounds of rain and the beams holding the ceiling sigh, shifting the weight of the house to ease their shoulders. Angry clouds spit rain at the windows and the panes rattle in retaliation. The light is switched on and the house, in its ochre glow, comes alive. 

    The house is loved, as carefully as a rolled leaf unfurling and as essentially as the stars that awaken with the moon. Soft carpets and curtains envelop the tea room, whose chairs and nesting tables are turned towards the settees and sofas as if a tea party had been interrupted, forcing its guests to retreat into the walls. Sometimes you hear this company talking amongst themselves- characteristic creaks in the wall when a joke is tasteful or when an argument erupts. But when the rain knocks on the wood of the walls too loudly, as it does today, they come out to the soft songs of the fireplace flame, for tea and ginger.

    The kitchen is always warm. There is always bread in the basket and cream in the jars. Delicate rays or earthy perfume are always welcome through the rose, canary and aubergine stained window. The stove is black and brown with age but its service remains unwavering- hot water slowly steeping the rose petals and tea leaves in it. And the old kettle always whistles at half past four and the ginger lies in a tray on the small counter. 

    The house is a soft orange in the grey and mud. Gaps in the gravel of the driveway pool with water and the rain unsheathes the greens and pinks of the rose bushes in the garden. The rain is harsh, beating down on the crown of the house. The snails and slugs inch their way out, akin to the spirits settling down in the tea room. The wind pulls back the leaves of the young trees that grew up with the house and the air is perfumed with clay. The tea kettle whistles. 

    The house will always welcome you for tea. 

    Published in my school’s magazine, 2022