fiction and musings from a gay black dude with delusions above his station
A megathrust earthquake struck on June 22, 1996. Mom died. So powerful an event, I knew it had happened without solid confirmation. The nurses kindly said that there had been no change in my mother’s condition, though the pauses in their speech told me what they did not want to say. Later that morning, I…
In the masthead for the gar spot you’ll see the bottom part of my tabla sitting just above the keyboard. This is the instrument I actually ended up studying, and continue to study after over a quarter century. But my first Indian instrument, the first instrument I ever studied seriously, was the sitar. I had two…
